#OH FUCK ME I JUST REALIZED THIS PROBABLY SHOWS UP IN THE NORMAL TAGS SOMETIMES . apologies all.

[fleet-off]

@aantinous’s marvelous tags on this post reminded me of the silly li’l shapeshifter snake!Vegas AU @theflowergirl Lily and I came up with over DMs a while back!

Snake!Vegas slips into the main family home pretty regularly pre-canon. Sometimes to spy. Sometimes to ruin Tankhun’s afternoon.

One day Pete catches the snake mid-troll! Tankhun is very upset. Pete obliviously sticks the snake in a Tupperware in his room to let it go once his boss’s ire dies down.

He drops a little food in the Tupperware. He doesn’t know what snakes eat, but what’s good for Petes is probably good for snakes?

He has a nice little workout after his shift. A nice little shower. A nice little dance around the room in the half-nude.

That evening he releases the snake in the yard and moves on.

Except now the snake? Keeps showing up at odd times?? Pete could swear it’s the same snake. It doesn’t look like a local species, maybe it’s an escaped pet.

“Maybe it’s just looking for a home,” he thinks, and doesn’t think about why that hits him so hard.

(Meanwhile. Vegas was in it for the spying, the trolling, and the mild voyeurism but now it’s—oh. Oh, he’s? Keeping me safe? This is…new.)

So there’s a snake in Pete’s life now.

Occasionally there’s also a snake in Pete’s bed, which is always a fun discovery in the morning. Still, Pete can’t blame a snake for being coldblooded, can he? And the snake has a cute little :) face. And it hasn’t tried to bite him yet. It may be bonded?

This is normal and fine.

(Getting into Pete’s room involves sneaking out of the minor family home, traversing the main family grounds in serpent form, and sneaking all the way up to the bodyguard quarters. Vegas has not slept with one of Kinn’s escorts in ages—he simply does not have the time.)

(Look, he’s getting under the skin of this main family dog who keeps getting tasked to follow him. It’s funny.)

(It’s turning into instinct. Like birds flying back to the same forest, like turtles returning to the same beach.)

(If he thinks too hard about it, he’s not going to be able to justify it anymore—he does not think about it.)

Vegas’s torture suitcase contains syringes and vials of hallucinatory drugs and neurotoxins in this AU. Just BTW. <3

The plot still plots for the most part, Pete still gets captured…the torment at the safehouse, though, is less Vegas taking his helplessness out on the guy who ruined his plans and more Vegas oscillating emotionally between “he was kind to me nobody’s kind to me what the fuck” and “he’s a representation of my weakness, he was kind to an innocent animal and I was stupid enough to play along.”

The later realization that Pete would choose to show empathy to human Vegas too? Ruinous.

So Vegas comes to torment or talk to or feed Pete during the day…and the snake comes to curl around Pete’s ankle at night. Pete does not know how the hell his snake got here, but he’s pretty delirious and appreciates the small comfort even if it’s a hallucination.

And of course the truth has to come out at the safehouse, because all truths come out at the safehouse.

So it’s invasive, and weird as shit, and a bit of a goddamn mess...but, like. Vegas was already invasive, weird as shit, and a bit of a goddamn mess.

The home thing is starting to make more sense, for Pete. A lot of things are.

(Do some snake-y features show up during the sex, too? Little bit of fang action? Maybe!!)

So the collapse. The escape. The return to a normal no longer satisfied by its stasis.

The second night after Pete’s return, he finds a snake curled around the leg of his bed.

He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Miserably, he lifts the snake up onto the mattress beside him anyway.

Halfway through the night, he feels warm and solid and human curled up behind him. He doesn’t move.

In the morning, the snake is gone.

(How does this play out in the finale? Who knows. ^^)

#kinnporsche #vegaspete #fanfiction #fleet post #fleet fic

[lenny-rambles]

About "SpyxFamily: Short Mission 13"

Manga: "SpyxFamily"

Update: Short Mission 13

Author: Tatsuya Endo

Relevants tags ig: the dog has ptsd, again

Honestly, I was mad when I initially saw it was a Short Mission. It's gonna be a month now since the last regular chapter came out, the plot was moving, my heart skipped at beat at the last double spread, the story was thriving, I could sense a lore drop any minute now. Then we got two short missions. TWO!!! But the newest short mission took me by surprise and now I'm sad about the damn cartoon dog.

Spoilers for the SpyxFamily manga and anime, more as in, characters that appear and not exactly plot stuff, BEWARE!

IT'S A GODDAMN SHORT MISSION, WHY DID YOU SHOW AGAIN THE SAD DOG'S BACKSTORY?!!! ISTG. You know what I was expecting? I was expecting a "funny haha, future seeing dog has a boring day home alone" maybe break some stuff by accident, maybe he goes to the neighbors' for attention, cute, sweet, nothing heavy slice of life chapter. BUT NO, I WAS FOOLED.

Like, most of the Short Missions are just, not that relevant. Like, it is more of a day-to-day life than the manga normally is. As in, last short mission (the chapter before this one) was about Anya sending Lloyd, and WISE, to an early grave with a High-Fashion dress for prom. It was funny, sweet, Anya wanted to help, then Damian messed up again and she wanted revenge, you know, the usual.

Why? Who gave Tatsuya Endo the idea to give Bond MORE flashbacks?!!! Poor dog's been through a lot, the Forgers becoming his safe place is just beautiful. THE WAY HE AND ANYA RESONATE, BECAUSE THEY ARE BOTH SECRET EXPERIMENTATION SURVIVORS!!!!!! Fucking dog making me sad because a big ass Penguin plushy has stiches. Stupid dog making me emotional over fish, FUCKING FISH. I HATE FISH!!!!

SpyxFamily makes me happy and sad. I think it's a great story to show how connections, friends, family, define a person more than what we'd like to imagine. No person is an island, so seeing characters like Nightfall or Franky, doing missions or getting bits of their backstory, makes it feel more real. Having a character like Anya, being capable of reading mind but not truly understanding most of it makes you think about how children navigate the world.

Oh gosh, I could talk about how SpyxFamily shares an anti-war message through its main characters, all of them victims of the war, one way or another. But it won't, 'cause this was supposed to be about the dog having what I'd call panic attacks because he accidentally broke a glass. BUT WE GET TO THE PENGUIN. In case you haven't read the manga (why are you reading this?) or simply forgot, Bond broke Mr Penguin!

It was an act of jealousy, Anya started playing with the plushie more, and he got lonely. So he destroyed it. He might be an oracle dog, but he is still a dog, I don't blame him. And he felt Bad. He made Anya cry. And he felt terrible because he just wanted Anya back and now Anya's crying and he can't undo it (dogs can't sew). In the end they made it better. I don't remember if it was Lloyd, Yoru or the neighbors, it was probably Yoru though, who fixed it. And the Penguin got cool looking stiches and "he and Bond made Peace".

That was nice, UNTIL THIS GODDAMN CHAPTER. I used to wonder if Bond also felt survivor guilt from being the only dog that managed to escape. TURNS OUT HE DOES, THE DOG HAS SURVIVOR'S GUILT FFS!!!! Poor Bond, realized that he inflicted damage to something like him (unable to defend itself, new/young, a play pretend animal and an animal no longer treated as such) and he tried to make it better. I can't change what I did but I want you to feel better, I'm sorry.

I'm overanalyzing here, it's probably Not That Deep. It's a funny haha manga about a family of dangerous people who end up loving each other by accident. But sometimes it's about Lloyd burying himself in a nameless grave by the time he was 18. It's about Yoru sacrificing her innocence for her brother only to do the same for her. It's about Anya needing validation from everyone because if the people in the lab didn't like her they'd get rid of her. It's about Bond feeling lonely and distressed because a vision he got is especially terrible and he is just a Dog.

I read the interview where Tatsuya Endo said he didn't like the characters that much. Maybe not Gege Akutami (you're going dow Gege) levels of hate, but a blunt indifference. And sometimes I find that hard to believe. Maybe he didn't want Anya to be cutesy-dumb-pink-haired little girl, or Lloyd a super-intelligent-spy-ikemen at first, or even now. But I don't think he doesn't like his story, or characters; we wouldn't have the short missions in the first place if that were the case.

All this to say, cartoon dog made me sad, and then happy, because there are better things coming for everyone in the end. Thank you for reading this far! I'd recommend SpyxFamily if you are up to something a tad dramatic, with a happy ending and endearingly funny. (Or if you have issues with your parents and want a bit of escapism, that's also fair)

#rambles #txt #spy x family #spy x family bond

[dumb-hat]

Tagged!

@thefreelanceangel smacked me with this thing, and I happen to be sitting here, looking at it, right at the moment when I'm both restless and bored and can't think of anything to read or do, so... yeah, okay, why not? Been a bit since I've done one of these things.

1. Are you named after anyone?

 Kinda.

So, the original plan was to name me after my father, but it turns out there was another guy in town with his name, and Dad, like... he hated that guy, and the thought that people might meet little baby me and think that I was that guy's kid just grated on him, so they named me after his best friend, but gave me Dad's middle name.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I don't remember the last time I did a whole-ass, full-on cry, but I probably furrowed my brow and tried to stoically choke down a swell of tearful emotion while watching fucking Ted Lasso yesterday.

Same thing with Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 the other day.

It used to be that like, I'd get fairly emotional about real life stuff, but not so much with media. Sure, it would have an effect on me, but that effect just didn't, like... go anywhere, if that makes sense. These days though, if I'm being honest? I will almost cry at the drop of a hat.

3. Do you have kids?

Nah. The cats are enough.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I think I use, like, a normal amount of sarcasm, whatever that is.

I really appreciate sarcasm, especially well-crafted sarcasm. It doesn't take much to just, I dunno, meanly say the opposite of how you actually feel about something, but good sarcasm can be an absolute delight.

When I was younger, I did an awful lot of the former, all the while confusing it for the latter. I won't say I always get it right now, but I try to do it less as a knee-jerk reaction, especially around people who might not know me as well... But I can't help it, and sometimes I show my ass.

If anything, I'm more likely to lapse into bathos than sarcasm.

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

Tee ball and coach pitch when I was a little, tiny kid. I was really bad at it, but Dad wanted me to do it, and it meant I got to hang out with him, even if I was terrified the entire time I was out there.

That's it, unless you want to count a few summers during/right after high school where my friends and I got really into Ultimate frisbee and started a league with teams and shirts and everything.

I, uh... I for one would rather not count that, if that's alright.

6. What is the first thing you notice about other people?

Honestly, it really just depends on how I meet them, you know? Is it an online thing? An in-person thing? A party? A concert? A convention? Work?

I guess I could say that I get a pretty strong gut reaction to people right off the bat, no matter the context. I'm pretty good about giving myself room to adjust how I feel, but there's definitely a quiet, ongoing vibe check that I notice first thing, if that counts.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

This feels like a false dichotomy.

For years, I thought I didn't like horror, but then I realized that I had just been convinced that I didn't like horror. Turns out, I really like it, I'm just kind of specific about it.

I like happy endings, but sometimes I'm put off when things are just a little too pat, you know?

So, uh, yeah. I like both. This doesn't feel like an either/or for me.

8. Any special talents?

I kinda wanna say 'no,' but that's not really a fun answer, is it?

So, okay. Here's a fun one: One day when I was like, 17 or 18, I was sitting at my grandparents' computer, waiting on something to download for a class project, I saw one of those... Oh, I don't know what they're called, like... one those, uh, letter spikes? You know, it's a spike that sits upright on a desk and you impale letters on it?

Yeah. One of those.

Anyway, I saw it there, and I still don't know why I did this—chalk it up to that ADHD impulsiveness, I suppose—but I took the thing and just, like, slid it into my nostril. I expected resistance, but didn't really find any, so I just kinda, you know, kept going.

I slid the thing in—straight back, mind you! Not up!—until I felt it touch the back of my sinus cavity. It wasn't long before I was showing this off to anyone I could, using progressively more impressive-looking nails. I started keeping a nose nail handy just so I could do the impromptu human blockhead thing on demand at parties and stuff.

Uh, does that count?

9. Where were you born?

Nowhere good, I tell you what.

10. Do you have any hobbies?

I do a lot of tabletop RPG stuff. I'm coming up on session 8 of an Exalted game, which is a lot of fun. I ran tons of it back in the day, but I haven't touched it since like, '11, but it feels good to be running it again. Feels kinda like home.

I play some video games, too. I find that the interest is always there, but the actual doing of it waxes and wanes, and boy, is there a lot of waxing right now. Just... a lot of fun stuff coming out. Lots I want to play.

I, uh... should probably log into FFXIV sometime soon. Get caught up. Take screenshots. Roleplay. Sort inventory. Manage retainers. Anything, really.

Honestly though, I really love making terrariums. I always thought it was kind of neat, but I started watching terrarium videos on YouTube as kind of a Bob-Ross-Moment-of-Zen-Unwind-and-Destress kind of thing while I was working a super-stressful job, and then it just kind of turned into my pandemic hobby. I love it, but I haven't made anything in a while, since I'm low on a few supplies. This is a good reminder to change that, though!

11. Do you have any pets?

I do! Two cats and a leopard gecko. The cats are 17 and 11. The leopard gecko is... at least 16, but could be years older than that, as he was kind of a rescue situation. He's slowing down a lot and getting really fussy, so I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit worried about him, but I reckon he's had a good run.

12. How tall are you?

5'10? 5'11? Depends on my posture, I guess.

13. Favorite Subject in School:

Depends on what kind of school we're talking about.

In grade school, it was usually science, sometimes social studies.

In high school, I took whatever *-as-literature classes I could, but my favorite classes were probably actually World Cultures and Sociology.

In college, I double majored in Anthropology and Linguistics. My favorite class was probably Sociolinguistics, but I was pretty good at Phonetics and the Anthropology of Science Fiction course I took as an undergrad was a ton of fun.

Okay, I guess it doesn't actually depend. Most of that can be boiled down to "I like people, and I like words, and I like what people do with words."

14. Dream job?

As much as I'd love to be pithy and say something like "I don't dream of labor," Baldwin said it better than I could ever hope to.

I don't think I have a dream job. I just kinda wanna do stuff and then have time to, like, not do stuff, you know?

That said, as I get older, I do find myself daydreaming about all kinds of things that feel like they'd be fulfilling now, but didn't even cross my mind when I was in a better position to do something about it more easily.

For all the time I spent staring at the architectural mock-ups in the halls at college, I could have at least taken an intro class, right?

I spent a large chunk of my life thinking I had no interest in making things or putting things together before realizing how much I loved the thin line between frustration and cursing, and elation and satisfaction that comes with repairing something, just because I was told that wasn't the kind of thing guys like me did. Also, uh... Having a half—or even quarter!—decent set of tools (rather than whatever you can find around the house) really, really helps.

So, yeah. I dunno. I'm getting older and still figuring out what I want to do, which is kind of a pain in the ass for an old guy that's long past all the college and "What do you wanna do when you grow up?" part, but I guess that's alright.

Wait. No. I wanna be a garden hermit. Surely, that's still a thing somewhere, right?

15. Eye Color?

Blue.

I'm not tagging anyone because... I dunno, I don't wanna. But hey, feel free to steal this and do it and tag me back so I can see it. That sounds like fun.

I've got an OOC blog over at @justlikethefish. In theory, that's where I talk about stuff like this. In practice, it's mostly like, cats and memes, and the occasional two-sentence post about whatever tabletop game I'm running, or whatever. Oh, and just about every Calvin & Hobbes post I come across.

#Tagged #OOC

[saraptor]

15 or less LINES OF DIALOGUE FROM AN OC!

Thanks for the tag @mxanigel !!

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Most of these are random scraps/snippets/unfinished drafts from Laenlun's story and are all quotes by him!

1. “Mama says I am perfect the way I am.”

2. “Just start running and don’t stop. If you feel that bad, then remember my dramatic sacrifice for the greater good and keep going.”

3. “That acorn fellow was onto something.”

4. “I cannot believe how benign everything seemed as a child. It was all so... unassuming. But a few years later, the corpse is showing up at my doorstep because I loved its killer and it's come to eat me back.”

5. “Dreams and nightmares and fantasies all tend to get mixed together. A nightmare is just your fingerprints on glass. A fantasy was my belief as a child that my parents would ever approve of a spouse. A dream is something that's technically probable. Reality is the fact I’m overthinking again.”

6. “What people offer I know deep down isn’t for me. Or, maybe I’m not for them.”

7. “Every morning I look at myself at wonder ‘What the actual fuck am I doing?’”

8. “If you were only disgusting, I’d care less. But you had to kill people, lots of people, really far more people than normal, so now I have to get involved. This is why you don’t kill lots of people.”

9. “Tell me I was wrong! Tell me that they were all twisted, pitiful excuses for people and that I wasn’t justified! Otherwise, keep your mouth shut if you weren’t there and you don’t know.”

10. “I can’t be scared of the dark, the person I love is the sun. And the sun never sleeps.”

11. “Oh, no, no, no, I love sitting on a crumbly wall with a drop to certain death directly beneath my feet—yeah no shit I'm avoiding the Inquisitor! That’s what you do when you really don’t get along with someone: You avoid them.”

12. “I specialize in barriers and healing magic. You might hear that and go, ‘Oh, he’s a pushover, good for me.’ Well, my barriers don’t let air though for one, and for two, my healing is parasitic in nature. Also, my companion here is in need of emergency treatment. Thank you for your generous donation to the war effort.”

13. “Fire doesn't really have a smell. You're smelling the smoke, the warning. It's not the danger, but your mind is telling you it is. So, when you run into the warmth, you think it's safety. You don't even realize you're already dead.”

14. “Every hand I could have taken but didn’t and the one that grabbed mine without asking just had to be someone like you. I should feel trapped, but I don’t. I should feel like I’m dying, but I’m not. Make it easy for me and say you’re a talent at emotional manipulation, would you?”

15. “We’ll go somewhere far away. It’s enough to have a life. Sometimes, we think a little too big. Let’s just have this life and call it a day.”

leaving this untagged because idk who has OCs they want to talk about!!! if you do let me know bc i'll tag you!

#oc: laenlun surana #tag games #thanks for the tag!!! #i had this sitting my drafts and forgot about it im sorry t-t #in my defense i was showing an example of how badly organized my drive is and found literally 5 or 6 oneshots i finished last year #and them forgot about #its literally like finding a litter of kittens in your floor board #im baffled but happy lmao

[zukuist]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞

200 followers special

includes: multiple characters (would add more tags but.. i reached 30 ;;)

your name is shortened to y/n, they/them pronouns

notes: thank you for 200 followers! this isn’t really going to be that long, but im just doing the characters i really like so ;; ALSO I MIGHT’VE GOTTEN KIRI’S ENTRY A LITTLE WRONG so ugh sorry ;;

—

shouto todoroki

— THE OBSERVANT SIMP

from the start, he’s quite oblivious to certain things, (social ques, signs of romantic interest, etc.)

but when he’s observant with someone, then that totally means you’re special to him. does he realize how much he pays attention to you? hmm.. maybe?

he’s going to be the first one that notices you’re hungry, even if you don’t realize it yourself. he’s quick to grab a snack and break it open to you

same thing with being thirsty— if he notices that your water bottle is empty, he’ll quickly find the nearest vending machine and buy a bottle.

temperature is also no problem. he can immediately tell whenever someone’s cold; but he usually helps you first

too hot? he’s slowly putting down the room’s temperature

too cold? his left palm starts emitting some sort of heat in your direction, hoping it creates some sort of aid

if your shoelaces are undone, and/or he notices that there’s a button undone on your shirt— he’ll fix it for you

will ask to take your pictures on dates, and he’ll also help you pick out the best photo (not that any photo of you is short of any beauty)

in short— people will notice that he’s actually a big simp for you; because of how observant he is with you specifically.

katsuki bakugou

— THE TSUNDERE SIMP

just because he’s simping for you doesn’t mean he’ll treat you any differently. bakugou will be bakugou, and you eventually learn how to adapt to that.

but even so, his simp habits slip out sometimes.

when he’s cooking, he’ll accidentally make too much to eat, and he’ll coincidentally put the extras in another box and hand it to you

he’s a good student, even with studies. but would he say he’s a good teacher? hm. probably not

but if he notices you need help, he’ll sigh, feining annoyance as he decides to tutor y’all, because those ‘idiots’ are hopeless

rolls his eyes when he sees food on your cheek, but he’ll grab a tissue and wipe it off for you— claiming how you’re so messy.

he’ll act like he hates hearing your ‘annoying ass singing’ but he’ll lean against the doorway and listen to you rock out to whatever song you’re singing to.

denki will call him a simp for looking after you, and bakugou will just yell at him to “SHUT UP” >:T

he secretly likes taking care of you. his words aren’t the softest thing in the world, but his actions make up to it.

izuku midoriya

— THE DETAILED SIMP

as katsuki bakugou would call him; he is a nerd

he definitely meant that as an insult, but his input on detail makes it very useful in things like relationships

he remembers every detail of your quirk, your limits, potential secret moves.

it would’ve been stalker-ish, if it weren’t for the fact that deku does this out of admiration for his s/o

so if you so happen to collapse due to overusing your quirk— deku has a detailed plan on what to do. it’s almost scary.

he puts detail in a lot of things, anniversary gifts, birthday gifts, and so on.

deku’s also the type to plan things weeks before it actually happens. like.. planning out the perfect birthday gift

and with this, his memory is really good. so it’s very unlikely that he’ll just suddenly forget anniversaries and birthdays.

i hc deku as a bad cook, so he eats takeout food more than his homemade food

but he’s takes note of your allergies, your dislikes with food— and he finds himself mumbling small details to recall what you like

when you walk out in pretty/good outfits for dates

his face will break out into shades of red— suddenly rambling all the good details of your outfit, complimenting you while he’s at it

“y/n’s looks fantastic as always. i might die from their beauty”

if anyone calls him a simp, he’ll be really embarrassed about it. “me? a s-simp? is that a bad thing?”

just tell him it’s fine.

denki kaminari

— THE HYPEMAN SIMP

a big simp

like.. really big

he worships the ground you step on, and hypes up everything you do

y’all know when irene from red velvet literally breathed in north korea, and the crowd just

*claps*

yeah, that’s denki to you

it’s so blantly obvious that he’s simping over someone, and everyone’s just kinda used to it at this point

he’s just a big fanboy sometimes

whenever you’re sparring with someone, he’s always in the background like

“go s/o!!” 🤩

and he has tendencies to go a little easy on you like.. what’s he gonna do when you get electricuted??

but that doesn’t mean he’s never serious— nah.

there are times where he’s just a little bashful just being in your presence

sneaking glances your way, as he silently fanboys about you in general.

“s/o looks really good today. they always look good but !!”

when y’all weren’t together, the bakusquad was just tired of the constant romantic pining

it was really obvious that he was simping back then, and they’re not so sure as to how you didn’t say anything about it

mina always called him a simp

so yeah!! it was a big relief when you got together with him. he never makes you feel terrible, because he’s always your #1 hypeman.

eijirou kirishima

— THE HELPING SIMP (rip idk what to call this)

i didn’t really know what kinda name i went for this one but let me carry on

kiri upfront is very confident, and friendly. he never shows a mean side to anyone,

and there are rare cases of him being bashful

he’s kinda almost like a golden retriever? since he’s always nice and friendly to everyone

but then when you enter the room; he suddenly goes quiet, and he’s left alone with his rather loud thoughts about you

he didn’t really know how to properly approach you at first

but him being kiri, he’s still rather friendly to you (for now)

when he’s messing around, practically sharing one braincell with kami and sero

and then you suddenly walk in— he snaps out of his foolishness, and greet you with his very warm smile

“hey y/n!” he waves at you, and he hopes you don’t mention the teasing look on both kami and sero’s face

sometimes when he’s doing his close combat training, and he notices that he’s getting too close to you

he’ll be like “woah man, maybe we should move locations.” bc he doesn’t wanna hit you by accident ;;

kirishima prefers to not stand near you when his hair is all spiky. like he’s never conscious about it, until he’s around you

man poked sero with his hair before, and he doesn’t want to do that to you

kiri always looks at your hand, just to see if it’s occupied with something. his thoughts linger to what your hand might feel like

“their hand looks really.. soft. argh! i shouldn’t be thinking about these kind of things in public! im sorry y/n”

bakugou really only notices kirishima’s simping ways

bakugou always mentions the fact that kirishima goes really silent whenever you’re around—

and he’s secretly contemplating on having you around more so he can just shut up 。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

moving aside all of that, kiri always carries your things.

you’ll beg him to give you at least one thing, and he’ll say no because it’s “not manly to let someone carry all of this.”

if you’re sad, he’s the first one to cheer you up— reassuring you that everything will be okay.

kiri’s just wants to be at your service at all times! it’s manly to help people, right?

hitoshi shinsou

— THE DISCREET SIMP

no one would be able to tell that he’s simping for someone

because unlike kaminari; he’s not like IM HITOSHI SHINSO AND IM ACTUALLY A SIMP

he’s a lot more discreet, and no one has really caught on, besides you and kaminari of course

he’s a lot less sarcastic with you, asking you about anything that’s happened instead of just being there

he prefers it to hear you talk. the way each word and syllable rolls off your tongue smoothly, and the way you use your hands to emphasize things

he’s amused.

oh and the way he looks at you? almost any normal person can sense the simp in him pop out (he’s so contained though)

he’s definitely the person that’ll get rid of any bug that’s terrifying you— even though he’d normally just leave it to them

he’ll do it, regardless if it’s the biggest fucking spider he’s ever seen, or the smallest spider

he’ll do it to make you feel safe.

he has these random spurs of compliments during the day

the source mainly comes from his staring habit

and they’re just so unexpected and out of the blue. hitoshi’s amused whenever he sees your reaction to his compliments

like.. you could be really frustrated about something, and he’ll just go “your eyes are pretty.” that’s his discreet method tO MAKE YOU TEMPORARILY DISTRACTED FROM THE ISSUE—

call him a simp, whatever. it’s true anyway so he doesn’t why should he be ashamed of it?

he’s discreet about it, since it’s your business and his business. but you can definitely feel his feelings loud and clear

neito monoma

— THE 180 SIMP

“i’m not a simp!”

[you enter the room]

*nervous laughter*

he had his last laugh, and he never thought he’d be this soft around someone.

especially if you’re from class 1-A like.. i became the thing i hated, ugh.

relentless teasing is amped but this is his way of making sure you remember him loud and clear

but he’ll never tease you in a condescending way— like how he torments the rest of class 1-A

that’s reserved for them 💅

always compliments you, that’s the first thing he does when he sees you—

and they’re never generic compliments either

“it’s nice to see you here, y/n! you make the world better day by day!”

“i’m still wondering what you’re doing in class 1-A, you’re much better than them!”

everyone secretly wonders how you got monoma to like you

monoma canonically likes pastels. spread the word

so sometimes, you’ll walk over to your desk— and you’ll just see this random pastel ornament sitting on your desk

you know who it’s from

whenever monoma starts becoming annoying, kendo will definitely use you as a weapon to make him shut up

he’ll be laughing at the expression on his face, thinking he’s absolutely winning at this

but the smile is wiped off his face when he hears “ok go on, i’ll tell y/n about your antics.”

“no, no! i’ll behave now, please don’t tell y/n.”

class 1-b literally use you as blackmail whenever monoma acts up, and it’s because of how different he is around you

like.. his personality takes a 180, (besides the obvious teasing) it’s alarming

—

©️zukuist 2021, bnha|mha belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not repost my work❕

#bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha x y/n #bakugou imagines #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #todoroki shouto x y/n #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki imagines #shinsou x reader #shinsou imagines #todoroki x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima imagines #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari imagines #kaminari denki x y/n #kaminari x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya imagines #monoma neito x reader #monoma x reader

[tendousthoughts]

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 2

Character(s) included: Tsukishima & Ushijima

Warning(s): Cursing

Song of the day: Love The Way You Lie by Eminem

A/N: Wow thanks for 200+ likes on my last part & 15+ reblogs! I’m almost at 150 followers so thank you for that too! I can't believe that my account is still active! Here’s part two! As always my ask box is open for comments and such! I would love to have some more Anons or even some character anons. Part three is next so if you have any haikyuu boys you want next just send a message! Please forgive any spelling and grammatical errors!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann

Tsukishima

So the argument was your fault. The ‘harmless’ joke made its way to be more effective than you imagined. So maybe it wasn’t as funny as you thought to pour water on his head as soon as he got through the door. But it wasn’t your fault for not knowing he was having a tough day already.

“Baby.. please.. kei, I am sorry..” you whispered softly as you followed him in. You could tell he was angry. After all he just wanted to rest and now you just fucked everything up. “Kei.. please.” He turned to you.

“What?” He was drenched and tried to not let his attitude show. He just wanted to take a shower and go to bed.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.. it was just supposed to be a harmless prank..” you muttered softly now avoiding his eyes. They felt like they were burning holes into you.

“Oh wow so funny!” He looked at you. Now making eye contact you can feel the hints of venom in his voice. “It’s so fucking funny. You know sometimes I wonder if I ever did the shit you do to me back to you how would you react? I mean after all it’s just a fucking harmless prank! Do you ever just fucking think for a moment, ‘fuck maybe that’s not a good idea?’ Or no? I mean is you brain so fucking small and your so fucking dumb to the point you don’t have a good thought in there?!” His voice was loud, deep, and annoyed. You could almost see the hatred seeping from each word. You looked to the ground and took his hurtful and harmful words. 

It was your fault after all.

After a moment he looked down at you, getting out everything he needed to say, well almost everything. “It fucking sucks to put up with you sometimes. I hope you know your fucking lucky.” There he went, finally finishing his bitter words. He left slamming the door behind him as he started the shower. The warm tears that you had been holding in now finally making their way out.

After grabbing a jacket, phone, wallet, and keys you leave. Feeling terrible that he had to put up with you. Locking the door as you left you decided to take a walk. It was cold and dark. It was a terrible idea to have, but there wasn’t much more that you could do.

After he finished his shower he got out looking for you. He had sorta realized the weight of his words. He knew he went too far.

After about five minutes he realized you were nowhere in sight. He changed and grabbed his phone. “Pick up..” he muttered, calling you. It was too cold for you to be out, let alone it was too dark.

You looked down at your phone and just ignored the call, scared to be yelled at again. It was freezing, now coming to the realization that you should have brought a bigger jacket. You head to a nearby ramen place to eat.

On his side he is freaking the fuck out. “Fuck fuck..” he muttered softly. He tried calling you again and to his surprise you picked up. “Y/n where are you?” He seems upset.

“Don’t worry about it.. just get some rest okay? Night.” You’re almost about to hang up where he starts talking again. He is frantic and you can tell he is extremely worried.

“Y/n please. It’s dark and cold and I don’t want you getting lost or anything worse please..” he mumbled softly. He is trying not to seem overbearing.

“I’ll be okay. Goodnight.” You hang up. Not to your surprise he calls you about five times as you order something to go for the both of you. After about twenty minutes you start to walk back. It’s pitch black and freezing. You put the bag on your arm and zip up your thin jacket. Now holding onto your phone on flashlight with one hand and with the other the soup trying to keep warm. It takes you another fifteen minutes to arrive and you open the door.

Tsukishima was waiting by the door. It was quite late so you bit your lip and closed the door after. In that time Tsukishima’s arms are already tightly around you. His eyes were red and puffy and it was clear he had been crying.

“I told you to get some rest, Kei..” you whispered softly, unsure why he was up. Kinda glad that the ramen did go to waste though.

“I am sorry.. I’m sorry.. I’m sorry..” he started to cry again holding you tight. You were cold to the touch and to be honest if it weren’t for what he said earlier you would probably be really enjoying this.

“It’s okay.. I got some dinner..” you whisper breaking away from his grasp as you sit at the table him following after. He wiped away the tears sitting in front of you. He felt like shit. As you place the food in front of him he gives a weak thank you, which you just shake your head to and start eating.

After dinner you get up putting your dishes away. Getting ready for bed after. As you finish brushing your teeth and changing. You are met with his long warm arms around you once again. He missed you all day, and didn’t want you to be distant any longer. “I’m sorry y/n..” he whispered softly, tears rolling down his face.

“It’s okay kei.. don’t worry I know you didn’t, it was my fault anyway..” you muttered softly. “I’m sorry baby..” you wipe away his tears. “I didn’t mean to worry you okay..?” He just holds on tighter and shakes his head gently, picking you up. He decides to carry you to the room you two share. As he holds you, you whisper nothing but sweet words of love, trying to comfort him.

When he lays down you gently hold him. He clears his throat ready to apologize more. “Y/n.. I really didn’t mean any of that okay..? I really love you so much and I’m the lucky one. You’re so considerate and shit and you were just trying to play a prank but I had a really shitty day and just didn’t react well.. I’m sorry..” he whispered softly. His head is buried into the crevice between your shoulder and head. It was clear he was upset.

“Baby it’s okay.. don’t worry I know you didn't mean too.. it was my fault.." you whisper softly. His arms tighten around you holding you close. "I should have known it wasn't a good idea and just didn’t do it. Instead I decided to do it and then leave.. making you worried and stuff.. So I'm sorry.." you whispered softly.

He just shakes his head and smiles softly. "Okay.. I love you Y/n," he muttered softly as he closed his eyes. Quite tired from such a stressful day.

"I love you too Kei," you muttered back, staying up until you’re sure he is peacefully asleep. When you are sure, you drift to sleep. You are safe here. You are safe in his arms, being loved by him. This is where you are meant to be, forever.

Ushijima

Practice was shit. He missed almost everything that came his way, and to be honest it was getting to him. He was quite pissed seeing you with some other guy. No matter what or who they were, they weren’t him. That’s all that mattered. You were laughing and smiling with them and he was upset. So of course he would be off his game. Who wouldn’t? You were the person everyone wanted. Ushijima was lucky to be your boyfriend let alone even talk to you.

But the same could be said about Ushijima. He was known everywhere and you got jealous too at times. I mean who wouldn’t when he got gifts every time he entered a match. He barely talked to you then too, because he thought you would be too ‘distracting.’ So in the end you normally would sit in the back and chat with a few people but tried to stay focused. Today was different. It was a practice not a game. So you didn’t mind not paying attention.

Once practice ended you were met with Ushijima’s tall form in front of you. “Oh hey baby,” you smiled getting up. He doesn’t look too happy and gives the guy a stare that makes him almost immediately leave.

“Who’s he?,” he looked down at you again. You’re shorter than him but to be honest he loves it. He loves the fact that he can tease you with kisses or the fact he can pick you up.

“I just met him. He is pretty cool, turns out he was in one of my old classes.” You smile a bit.

“Oh. Okay let’s go.” He muttered softly. Now expecting a kiss on the head before you two leave you wait. It takes a moment before you realize you’re not getting one so you just follow after him.

“How was practice..” you ask when you guys get in the car. It was quiet and you didn’t like that. It was too quiet.

“You would have known if you were watching.” He was brief and quick with his answers. “It went bad.”

You shake your head softly and when you guys get back into the house it’s no better. Now deciding to break the silence once more. “What’s wrong baby..” you look at him. Something’s off. Completely off.

He looks to you maybe for the first time, in what.? Half an hour an hour of being in the same car. Whatever it was it didn’t matter, it was too long.

“I don’t know why you have to come to my practices and just distract me the whole time.” He doesn’t think about what to say before he does.

“What..? I didn’t run up to you like usual and I stayed in the back like you like! What do you mean ‘distract’ you?” You look at him confused.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come then. It seems like everywhere you have to just be in my way. Let alone you just bring people with you.” He looks annoyed and maybe you should just drop it. But you can’t. You did nothing wrong.

“What? I stayed out of your fucking way! I didn’t ask to come. You asked me too! It’s not like I begged you to come and then was up in your face the whole time. Like your so-called fans! They were up in your face the whole fucking time trying to give you gifts and shit! But ya I’m the distracting one!” You looked annoyed. Upset. Pissed off. Whatever you wanna call it.

“Really? Really? We wanna go there now? It’s not like every fucking time we walk the halls together someone doesn’t come up to say hello to you! Or asks if your fucking free, I mean it’s not like your with me or anything.” You can tell he is mad. But it isn’t your fault.

“Yes really! You have fucking people wait by the gates of the school for you. I mean that’s what I get for dating you right? I get a bunch of girls following my boyfriend, I get called a distraction when I come up to you and get called a distraction when I’m away from you. I don’t know what to fucking do at this point!” You can feel yourself tear up. This is fucked up.

“Wow. Of course. All my fucking fault. Mhm just blame it all on me. You know what fuck you, and fuck your high horse.” He slams the shared room’s door closed. You don’t say anything, deciding to just leave. You grab your stuff and close the door. It’s a bit chilly and you’re glad you grabbed a jacket. It wasn’t weird for you two to fight let alone get on each other’s nerves. But when it’s going good, it’s going great.

You leave heading to a friend’s house and stay the night. Unsure how you fucking feel at this point. What the fuck was up with him? You just tried to stay in your fucking lane. It hurts. It fucking hurts to be called a distraction. Maybe he didn’t get that. But you knew he did. He wasn’t that dumb. He wasn’t that fucking dense like everyone else thought. You knew he wasn’t. That was one of his worst insecurities and you knew it.

The next day you were dropped off at school and we’re surprised to see Ushijima waiting. You bit your lips walking right past him. You could see the hurt in his eyes. He had eye bags and his eyes were red and swollen. He seemed like he had been crying, you felt bad. But at the same time you didn’t. You needed him to understand how much you were hurt by his words.

When lunch came around he was waiting at the door of your classroom and you bit your lip. “Do you need something?” You ask. It took him a moment before he shook his head.

“Can we please talk.. I’m sorry..” he muttered softly. He was clearly still upset by yesterday’s fight and so were you.

“Okay. It’s fine I’m sorry too,” you look up now, his big arms were wrapped tightly around you. He sniffled softly as he was already tearing up again.

“I didn’t mean any of that.. you’re not a distraction and I love you so much baby..” he whispered softly. “I was just jealous and shit..” he muttered softly. “I don’t like it when you hang out with others and stuff and I know it’s not fair.. I just get worried you will like them more and just leave..” he whispered softly finally opening up.

“Hey look at me..” you whisper gently, taking your hands and wrapping them around his cheeks. “I won’t do that to you.. I love you so much, okay?” He shakes his head.

“I love you too y/n..” he muttered softly. He was tired and you could tell. Once you reached the cafeteria you sat next to him and he laid his head on your shoulder.

A soft laugh made its way out as you held him. God you love him. Nothing could ever change that. No matter any fight. You loved him and he loved you. That’s all that would ever matter.

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[forever-rogue]

Hello Sunshine

A/N: Hello! I’m here with a 7am shower idea that I couldn’t get out of my head. It’s just a little sweet and soft Frankie. Enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

*Bold - Frankie ; Italics - Reader

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: none

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey! What time did you want to meet up tomorrow for brunch?” you stared at the number you’d typed in and compared it to the one that the man you’d met the evening before had given you. You had been absolutely reluctant to go to the local bar’s speed dating evening before, but your best friend had convinced you to go. She was going to go as well, so you figured if you ended up suffering, she would likely too - solidarity in its finest form. Much to your pleasant surprise however, you ended up having a fun time...the multiple rounds of drinks probably didn’t hurt either. 

Marcus had been your last round for the evening, and he had been kind and charming; easy on the eyes and easy to make conversation with. He asked you questions and you were able to ask him ones back. Definitely a sharp turn from what you were expecting; and by the end of the night he’d offered you his number and asked you to for brunch on Sunday. You’d been...elated; it had been some time since anyone had actually managed to capture your eye.

Before talking yourself out of sending the message, you hit send and put your phone onto your nightstand. You weren’t too nervous in general, but there was something about sending that first message that always caused butterflies to erupt into your stomach. It wasn’t but a few minutes before your phone vibrated to signal a new message. Trying not to get too eager and excited, you reached for it and quickly opened the new text.

Who is this?

Your brow furrowed in confusion at the seemingly hasty denial of acknowledgment. It was no matter, you groaned at yourself, you probably should have included your name in the first place. No big deal, you quickly typed out your name and added, “we met at the bar last night? For the speed dating event?”

Your stomach flipped nervously as you wondered what he would say; hoping it was just a misunderstanding and he would realize exactly who you were. 

I didn’t go to any bars last night. I don’t know who you are.

Oh. Your throat constricted as you reached for the napkin with the phone and compared it again to the number you had texted. There was no way you’d mistaken any of the numbers. Sighing heavily, you slipped out of bed and edged towards your bathroom and tossed the offending object into the can. Things had seemed like they’d gone so well...you’d genuinely liked Marcus and thought the attraction and chemistry was there on both sides. Apparently you’d been made a fool once again. Heat flooded your face in embarrassment as you contemplated whether or not to text again. To hell with it, you decided, you might as well apologize if nothing else.

So sorry. The guy I met must have given me the wrong number. I hope I didn’t ruin your night. Sorry for wasting your time.

After that bit of failure, you decided you might as well get back into bed and watch a show until you fell asleep. You felt beyond embarrassed and just wanted to forget about the whole thing. Needless to say, it surprised you when your phone went off again.

No worries. Sorry if I was rude too. It’s happened to me before with a couple of girls. It  sucks. 

At this point, you found yourself smiling at the sentiment, and decided that one more little text wouldn’t hurt anything. 

Seriously! Why can’t someone just tell you if they’re not interested? It's so much easier. Either way - thanks for understanding and have a good evening. 

You too. Hope things look up soon for you.

His response had been instant almost as if he had been watching you type it all. Whoever this stranger was - and you weren’t even sure if it was a man or woman - they had turned out to be kinder than Marcus. But it didn’t do well to dwell on it; Marcus would get what he deserved and this stranger would get some good things. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie put his phone on the charging pad he kept next to his bed, turning it on silent before crawling under the covers. Catching a glance of himself in the mirror, he was surprised to see that he had a smile on his face. Not that was perpetually frowning or mad, but usually he wasn’t just smiling for no reason. 

Although he had a feeling he knew the exact reason as to why he was actually happy for once because of...you. The random stranger that texted him and sent a happy shiver up his spine. He wasn’t happy because of your little predicament, knowing the exact feeling of having been duped and given the wrong number several times. But the short conversation had been pleasant enough and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d hear from you again. 

Doubtful, he reminded himself, it was just a one off type deal and that was that. And yet...that didn’t stop him from quickly grabbing his phone again and saving your name and number as a contact. You know...just in case. 

Francisco Morales had sweet dreams throughout that night. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie practically bounced into work the next morning, a smile on his face and spring in his step. So he seemed so out of normal form that his best friend and coworker, pointed it out to him and everyone. Frankie played it off like it was no big deal; in reality it wasn’t. You were just another stranger out in the world that flung into his orbit for a moment before leaving again. 

But that whole week felt different and somehow the world was a little brighter - filled with sunshine. Even if it wasn’t everlasting, he didn’t mind the feeling it gave him for the moment; the positive energy was nice for a change. 

Little did he know that across the city, you were existing in your own little world, going about your day to day in a similar manner. What a small world it was indeed. You had been incredibly tempted to look up his phone and see if you could find anything out about your mysterious stranger, a name, some sort of profile - anything  - but refrained. What if it was someone you ended up attracted? A beautiful woman or a good looking man that caused you to start all sorts of fantasies? No - you didn’t need all of that. You’d let it go or let whatever happened happen. 

Which likely was nothing. Right? Right. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Imagine your surprise when you found yourself at home with leftover pizza and a bottle of wine, resigning yourself to a quiet Saturday night when your phone vibrated. Figuring it was probably just one of your friends, or some sort of useless notification, you picked up your phone and found your jaw dropping. This wasn’t seriously happening, was it? 

Hey stranger. Hope this Saturday is better than the last one. 

Maybe they had the wrong number...or something. But no - they acknowledged the fact that last weekend had been shit and called you stranger. This had to be intentional. Setting your phone down for a moment, you grabbed your glass of wine and sipped on it, trying not to let the excitement of a single text get you too excited. They had done what you’d dreamed about all week...why not indulge in it? If nothing else, it might be nice to have someone to text with on occasion. 

Hi stranger. This Saturday involves me, the couch, pizza, and wine. I guess I really can’t complain. Hope yours is a good one too!

As soon as you hit send, you wanted to ban your head against the wall; was it too much? Not enough? Did it even warrant a response? Now you were just overthrowing everything. Shit, fuck, damn. 

But you weren't able to wallow in misery for too long before your phone went off again. Huh.

Sounds pretty good. Can't complain either, just at home with a beer and a movie. Missing the pizza though. Maybe I'll order some.

Definitely recommended! I don't know if this is odd, but you know my name and I don't know yours...do you have a name, stranger?

Not weird at all! Maybe I should have started with that. Francisco - Frankie.

Well Francisco-Frankie, it's nice to meet you. What movie are you watching?

Nice to meet you, no- longer-complete-stranger. Die Hard. A classic.

Oof. I'm afraid it ends here. Hot take - Die Hard is...notthatgood.

It's been a good but short time…how can you not like Die Hard!? What could you be watching that's so much better?

The Office. A modern classic and clearly superior to anything you're picking if you think Die Hard is good.

Fun fact - I've never seen a single episode of the Office. And never plan on it. Tell me, mystery girl, what should I get on my pizza?

I now make it my plan to convince you to watch The Office. Pepperoni, jalapeños, and tomatoes. Regular crust, none of that thin crust bs.

Challenge accepted. An odd combination but I'll give it a try. Results tbd.

Already listening - I'm a fan of it. I'll let you get back to your movie and order your pizza. Have a good night Francisco-Frankie.

You too, mystery girl.

There was an undeniably giant grin on your face as you set your phone back down. Had this actually happened? Surely this was some sort of dream; a random stranger actually striking up a conversation? And seemingly enjoying it? Out of this world.

As you downed your glass and got ready to refill it your phone vibrated once again. This time you didn't even bother to let a moment pass before picking it back up and opening the notification.

Can I text you again sometime?

Yeah...I'd like that.

You just about melted into the couch, happier than you had been in a long time. And all from texts from a man you still hadn't met. Who knew if you would ever meet him? Either way, this Francisco aka Frankie had proven to be a welcome disturbance in your life.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next couple of weeks passed in the same blissful fashion. You'd go about your day with work and other responsibilities and obligations but you had your pocket companion with you. That's what you nicknamed Frankie anyways. 

What has started as some texting here and there soon turned into conversations throughout the days, slowly becoming more personal and introspective with each passing day. And despite still knowing what he looked like or anything...you thrived in it. You'd wondered if he'd looked you up - he hadn't for the same reasons as you - and that's why you got along so well. 

The two of you had a lot in common but still managed to have your differences. One thing that never failed to make you smile was what had turned into his version of a good morning text.

Hello Sunshine. 

Hi Fly Boy. 

Stay dry today, its supposed to be a pretty bad downpour. Talk later?

Of course. Be safe too.

The small sentiment was enough to send you reeling; it was funny how easily conversation flowed between the two of you. Like in some ways you'd always known each other, but still were finding out things constantly. You weren't sure where it would lead to...if anything but for now you appreciated your new found friend.

»»————-　♡　————-««

I have a work party this weekend and it's formal. Do I go for an lbd or something colorful?

Depends - do you want people to approach or admire from the distance?

From the distance, so I can leave fairly quickly but people still know I was there.

Definitely LBD then.

My hero! Perfect idea!

»»————-　♡　————-««

How do I get out of a camping trip this weekend?

Why would you try and get out of it? You said you loved camping.

I do but...just not feeling it this weekend.

Tell them you're feeling or that your new girlfriend wants to spend the weekend together.

New girlfriend? I wasn't aware I had one…

Its called a white lie Frankie. Use me as an excuse if you have to.

You're the best! A real lifesaver, sunshine.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Okay, here's a tough one. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

All three. But if only one - coffee.

How do you take it?

Black with a little bit of sugar.

That's kind of the vibe I got! But you're wrong - the best answer is coffee in the am, afternoon tea, and then sometimes a hot chocolate for dessert.

Let me guess - salted caramel hot chocolate? 

How did you know?! Alright, Fly Boy, you know me too well already.

Just a hunch, sunshine. Okay - favorite color?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Do you think if I pretend to be dead I can leave work early?

Dramatic! I love it. How about a migraine? Last minute emergency?

Probably better. Migraine it is.

Just a thought. Beers with the guys tonight?

Yup. Girls night?

Yes! Talk tomorrow?

Of course.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Soooo I might have gotten myself into a predicament…

What happened?

Umm, I might have lied and told my friends that I started seeing someone…

Oh no.

Yeah...all because I couldn't admit that that guy had given me the wrong number. How do I explain?!

Maybe just don't say anything and then later say it died down or something? No need to drag it further.

You're right and I am an idiot. 

Nah, it happens to the best of us.

Hmm sure. Anyways, onto important things. Dogs or cats?

»»————-　♡　————-««

If you could only have one type of food for the rest of your life, what would it be and why?

Hmm, that’s a hard one. I’m torn between Mexican (the good stuff of course) and Italian and sushi. You? 

Pizza!

That’s not a type of food, Francisco!

It totally is. There’s different varieties, it can count!

That’s a cheap way to answer the question, but I’ll accept it because you’re cute. 

You think I’m cute? And just how do you know? Do I have a stalker?

Nah, too much effort. Besides, I’m usually busy talking to you. It would be kind of obvious if I was, wouldn’t it? I just have a feeling. 

Very funny, sunshine. I’m positive it’s the other way around. 

You’re the stalker? What am I wearing right now?

You know what I meant!

Of course I did. I’m the smart one in this duo, don’t forget. 

You’re too much. Want to watch a movie tonight? We start at the same time? 

Yes! Anything but Die Hard or other shitty movies along those lines.

You’re killing me here. One day I will convince you to watch it with me.

I look forward to that - but not tonight. Name your top 3 ideas.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Over the weeks, Frankie became an everyday part of your life. The two of you texted back and forth throughout the day as time allowed. It was nice - comforting to have him there despite the fact that he could have been anyone in the world. Well, you knew he was local to you from his area code but otherwise...a mystery.

You wondered if you’d ever encountered him out in the real world before. It was a definite possibility, but you would never know. Not unless you somehow actually ended up meeting him in person. The idea of proposing such a notion hadn’t seemed far off, especially since your days were filled with each other and there were undeniably flirty texts and insinuations. The few times you’d actually gotten the nerve up to just ask him, something always seemed to come and keep you from doing it. Namely - nerves. 

What if you were reading all wrong into this? What if he really wanted nothing more than a friendship? What if texting was the extent of it all? 

Naturally, you’d know your answer if you’d just fucking ask him. But that seemed like a momentous and herculean task and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be up for it. Perhaps things would just...happen one day. Despite getting to know him, he was still just this enigmatic aura. For all you knew you might as well have been fighting a robot. 

When then...one random night, a Wednesday evening when you’d just walked in the door with fresh produce from the downtown farmer’s market, your phone name. Shifting the large bags in your arms, you managed to fish your phone out of your pocket and answer it without looking at who it was. 

“Hello?” you kicked the door shut behind you and shuffled into the kitchen, unceremoniously dumping the bags onto the counters. At first you didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line besides some shuffling, but then eventually you heard a distant voice say something indiscernible. In confusion, you pulled the phone out from between your ear and shoulder and glanced at the contact. The name was enough to have your breath catch in your throat as you realized that your mysterious Frankie on the other end. He’d never called before...perhaps it had been a mistake? Even if it was, you were going to take full advantage of it, “Frankie? Hello? Come on Fly Boy, it’s me. If you can hear me, let me know.”

It was a few more seconds of shuffling and almost static like noise before you were positive you heard a quiet fuck. But then, in a moment that made your heart almost stop, you heard him, loud and clear, “h-hi….sunshine?”

“Hi Frankie,” you repeated as you felt your heart melt and legs turn to jelly, “I’m going to guess this wasn’t an intended call?”

“Umm, shit no,” he admitted with what you could only describe as a nervous laugh, “accidental pocket dial.”

“It’s 2021 and you’re pocket dialing people?” you snorted with laughter as you grabbed your earbuds to sync up the bluetooth so you could talk to him while putting away all of the fresh fruits and veggies you had acquired, “that’s such an old person thing, Frankie! What are you 50?”

“It’s not that weird,” he insisted with an indignant scoff as you giggled, “it can happen easily if you don’t lock your phone when you put it away and yeah...here we are. And for the record I am nowhere near 50! I am only 36.”

“Oof,” you opened the fridge and popped the veggies into the drawer, “I’m afraid that things end here, Grandpa.” 

“Very funny! How old are you then, huh? Oh my God - please don’t tell me I’ve been talking to and flirting with a teenager,” for a moment he sounded genuinely nervous as you almost doubled over in laughter at his panic. The fact that he had admitted to flirting was lost on you in your amusement he was so worried that he didn’t even notice the gaff, “sunshine!”

“I’m almost 30,” you reassured him and he instantly sighed in relief on the other end, “don’t worry. Besides, I told you I met the man I thought I was texting at a bar - at least I would have been 21.” 

“That still would have been weird,” he admitted as you made a small sound of agreement, “this is better.”

“Ha! Thanks for the sentiment,” you  rinsed and crunched on a carrot before hopping onto the counter to get comfortable. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should say your next words or not...but you decided to just do it, “this is...nice. I like hearing your voice. Makes you more real.”

“I like it too,” he agreed softly, a tinge of pink rising up in his cheeks, despite the fact that you couldn’t see it, “you sound like I thought.”

“Oh? Like an annoying twelve-year-old boy?” 

“Okay, okay, dramatic much?” he snorted, “just accept the compliment!”

“Fine,” you huffed, being very overdramatic indeed, “what are you up to tonight, Frankie? Want to cook together?”

“I’m yours - free, I mean free,” he corrected himself as you relished in his little mess up, “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook. I’m a better baker.”

“Ooh, excellent,” you slid off the counter in excitement, “how about this - we’ll make something simple for dinner - I’ll walk you through it step by step, and then you’re in charge of dessert. Deal?”

“Deal,” Frankie felt a rush of excitement surge through him as he stepped into his kitchen and reached for his apron - the same one that Santi always made fun of him for, “what’s on the menu?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

And just like that texts turned into texts and phone calls. There was something so thrilling, like a huge surge of electricity shot down your spine and throughout your body every time you saw his name up pop or heard the sound of his voice. Frankie was...slowly turning into your constant companion and if you were being honest with yourself he was everything you had had ever wanted. 

And oh - how scary it was to be falling for a man you still hadn't met in person. Slowly, surely it would happen. Gods, you wanted it to happen so desperately. But you were painfully shy when it came to the idea of asking him out and little did you know, he was feeling exactly the same way. Frankie wanted nothing more than to finally ask you on a proper date, to spend all those times laughing with you in person. But he just...continually talked himself out of it.

He was just so shy, so nervous and he thought it would be impossible that someone like you would actually go for a guy like him. He was just...fly boy and you were his Sunshine. Frankie had given you the name early on, deciding that it was appropriate because you brought a little bit of sunshine into his life every day. It had almost brought you to tears - not that you'd admit that to anyone - not yet anyway. His nickname was simple - he was a former military pilot and now a part time ‘whenever he got the chance pilot’ - Fly Boy. It was perfect and he adored it as much as you.

And yet neither of you, pining silly fools had been able to make that final move. One day, you both reminded yourself constantly, one day.

And one day turned out to be sooner than either of you expected...

"Mmhmm," you murmured into the phone as you scoured the bookshelves of your local little bookstore. You had a rare afternoon off and to treat yourself to a nice coffee and searching for a new read. You'd fallen out of reading regularly and had made it a point to get back into it, aiming for a book month. Naturally, your friend had called you at that exact time, "of course pizza is always a good choice."

Frankie hummed under his breath as he walked through the aisles looking for the book you had recommended to him. He hadn’t thought much about the woman he saw a few rows over with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. He did note, however, that the tone of her voice was sweet - not that he was trying to listen in on her conversation. 

“Yes it is!” you laughed into the phone, trying to keep it down when you noticed the man in your peripheral vision and aimed to keep from disturbing him, “pizza is good for whenever you don't know what to make. And you know the best - pepperoni, jalapenos, and tomatoes. No contest.”

Despite not trying to listen in to your conversation, as soon as he heard you describe pizza, his perked up and immediately his heart started pounding. A nervous rush of energy flowed through him as he tried to get a better look at you without making it obvious. Holy shit - was this actually it? Was he about to meet his Sunshine?

“I even told Frankie,” you insisted with a small smile as you took a sip of your coffee, “he liked it too. Yes...of course I’m still talking to him...I-I really like him. I hope that one day I can meet him. I keep wanting to ask and then I get so nervous and talk myself out of it. He’s just...lovely.”

This definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, right? The particular type of pizza, Frankie, wanting to meet - this had to be you. And the more he listened, despite his initial efforts, he couldn’t help but zone in on you. And now, hearing your voice unfiltered and unaltered through the phone, he knew it was you. He just stopped in his tracks as he watched you, a silly little smile on his face as he realized that somehow the universe had decided to throw him a bone. 

“Mhmm,” you murmured into the phone, “of course. I’ll talk to you later!”

Ending the call, you shoved your phone into your pocket and reached for one of the books that had piqued your interest. Sliding it out and reading over the back, you quickly got lost in your thoughts until you heard a throat clear behind you. Assuming you were in someone’s way, you shuffled to the side without glancing at who it was. But then you heard it - quiet and shy but clear, “Sunshine?”

At the sound of the nickname you’d been given by only one person throughout your entire life, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest as your body froze. Surely..surely this couldn’t be happening…

Turning around, slowly, painfully slowly, you found yourself staring at a face both brand new and immediately familiar. You’d never seen him before, but instantly it was like you knew him, all of him. In some ways you supposed, you did. 

“F-Frankie?” almost getting choked up, your voice was barely above a whisper as the handsome man in front of you slowly nodded. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as his whole features lit up with excitement. His brown eyes were soft and crinkled in the corners as his grew grin and a one singular dimple appeared. You weren’t really sure what you had pictured when you’d thought about your mysterious friend, but somehow this was right on the mark. You blinked a few times, trying to hold back your tears of sheer excitement, “you’re real after all!”

And then he laughed. A beautiful, glorious sound that caused a surge of warmth to rush through your entire body. He really was just as lovely as you’d dreamed. 

“Did you really think you were talking to a robot this whole time?” he asked as you flushed with warmth but stuck your tongue at him, “I can’t believe it’s really you. After all these months...finally. I’ve been wanting to ask you for so long but I didn’t think…”

“Me too,” you agreed, “me too. Small world, huh?”

“I was just looking for the book you recommended last night,” he admitted as you practically glowed with excitement. Holding up a finger, you turned around and quickly found the book in question and displayed it for him, “I didn’t think I’d find the book and the woman I’ve been talking to for months.”

“How did you know it was me?” you asked as you walked over to him and he offered up a sheepish grin.

“The pizza.”

“The pizza!” you snorted with laughter, “I should have known. Too obvious.”

“I like to think that everything happens for a reason,” he tried to take the book from your hands but you just shook your head, “what?”

“This is going to be from me to you,” you insisted as a tinge of pink welled up in his cheeks, “a souvenir from the day we met!”

“I’ll treasure it forever,” he promised and you could tell he meant it, “what are you doing tonight? Now?”

“I dunno,” you feigned innocence, “I was planning on going home to cook and talk to this guy I’ve been falling for for months, but that seems a little weird now.” 

“Will you let me take you to dinner -  a date? A real date?” he asked as you beamed at him and nodded. How could you ever say no. 

“Only if you take me to that Italian place you told me about!”

“Whatever you want, Sunshine,” he promised as he reached for your hand and gently laced your fingers together. It felt so easy, so effortless, and you didn’t even have to think about - natural. 

“You,” you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing his cheek, “just you, Frankie.”

“Sweet Sunshine.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #hello sunshine #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales

[mystic-sky]

Summary: Gojo sneaks into your dorm cause he sort of “misses” you. Oh, and Shoko’s there too.

Pairings: Gojo Satoru/reader/Shoko Ieiri

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/Tags: Minors DNI, NSFW, threesome, cream pie. If you weren’t gay for Shoko before you will be after this.

yeah no one asked me for this lmaooo, but it’s Shoko loving hours✨

Shoko Ieiri is deep in sleep on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half eaten snacks and DVDs. After a girl’s night in, she felt too tired to walk just two doors down to her own room and crawl into her bed. So here she was, inhabiting your extra futon on a school night.

You’re dozing off just 2 hours past midnight. That is, until you heard a few light taps at your window. The sounds peck you out of your light slumber, making you groan and slide downwards underneath the comforter, assuming it’s a tree or a bird. The noise persists further, making you groan an even louder and irritated noise. Finally you sit up, crankily sliding out of bed. You stare at Shoko enviously, who is un-phased by the noise.

You slide the blinds open on the sliding doors, jumping back at the large frame peering back at you. You clutch your chest, before letting out a large heave, unlocking the glass pane door.

“You scared the living shit out of me,” you whisper-yelled.

Satoru leans against the doorway, staring back at you in baggy night clothes. “Yo.”

You’re staring at him with tired eyes.

“What the hell do you want?” You whisper.

“I missed you,” his hand reaches the back of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead before casually brushing past you.

This was normal, you suppose. He’d snuck into the girl’s dorm at the school countless times to sleep with you. You both weren’t dating, only frisky classmates. You did however enjoy the spontaneous pop ups.

“Shoko’s here.” You say simply as he tosses his phone on your desk. “And you should’ve texted me.”

You’re still standing there with the patio door open, thinking he’d leave as soon as he saw her there.

“My bad,” he’s smiling cheekily at you. “And I couldn’t sleep, so I came here to spend the night.”

You sigh and shut the door, realizing he was definitely staying. You pull the blinds shut as he removes his sweatshirt and slides. He lets out a whine as he realizes what Shoko is sleeping on. 

“My futon...” he whines. He’s so bothered by it. He never slept on the thing either; you stole it from him a while back.

You aren’t worried about Shoko waking up in the morning to him in your bed, she’s seen it all before. She can hardly understand your infatuation with Satoru. But, she’s a pro at minding her business. A good friend overall, considering boys are forbidden from being in the girls dorm after hours. 

You ignore him, and brush past his lanky body to climb back into your bed. He follows, squeezing onto it with you. It was barely full sized— somehow still the largest in the girls dorm, resulting in majority of your hook ups to be in your room. Sometimes, Shoko would crawl in bed with you, and sometimes you two would do more than sleep together on school nights.

You’re so tired, so groggy as he snuggles into you. The deepest hum pours into your ear. His strong bare arms are intoxicating, the way they wrap around you like he needs you— but he doesn’t. He typically acts like he doesn’t need anyone actually, so when he clings to you like this it sort of throws you off. But you know he’s just indulging in human touch. It’s not such a serious thing to him. He’s such an airhead. You know he’d never actually go out with you. 

“You and Shoko had all the fun without me...” He whines it, and it’s pretty loud. He doesn’t care if she wakes up. He’s already hard and his length is stabbing your back. 

“We didn’t do anything,” you say simply. His hand slides up your shirt, and his finger tips are cold. They sting the flesh of your breasts, but your body’s so hot you don’t even flinch. “And your hands are freezing.”

One of your nipples harden into the center of his palm and he feels it, using his thumb and index finger to squeeze and pull at the thing.

“Ah, so I made the both of you wait long? I’m sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. You roll your eyes, and he can’t even see you do it but he laughs anyway.

“One day,” he purrs, and the sound is enough to send chills up your spine.

“Like she’d ever sleep with trash like you,” you scoff, turning around and wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Your jealousy is showing.” You finally get to see his toothy grin.

“Hardly,” you roll your eyes again. You don’t allow him to speak any more, pressing your tired lips against his. The movement is groggy— a sleepy lovers kiss of sorts if you’ve ever had one. He’s tired himself, but his ever growing bulge won’t let him rest in his own dorm. 

“A quick fuck, so we can sleep.” Satoru says the words so quickly, but he doesn’t miss your nod. 

“We have a 9AM,” you feel inclined to remind him about your class in the morning. Your hands are trailing up his back, feeling along the muscles.

He hums before sliding down beneath your comforter, disappearing from your side. His finger tips are warmer now, wrapping around the hem of your pants. You realize what’s happening, and shift your body to help him slide them down. His mouth is buried in your sex in seconds, making you grip the blanket above your head to watch him eat it beneath the covers. It’s not like you can see much though, but you love to hear the sound of his tongue on you. 

It’s a loud noise even though he’s muffled. You let out soft whimpers as not to wake Shoko. He loves to suck on your clit more than anything. He gives soft licks in between to relieve your center from the extreme stimulation but it doesn’t do much. The pattern edges you every time, and he does it on purpose. He says it makes you restless and a lot more needy for him.

He hums his mouth against your clit, making you roll your hips into him.

“Put it in already,” you’re teething at the edge of the blanket, but he hears you nonetheless.

He rises up, chin running a muck of juices with the blanket over his head like it’s a veil. It was weird how his eyes would ignite like that in the dark, like they were made of that glow in the dark fluid. The moonlight finally poured over the clouds, giving the room a bit of light.

“Pretty boy,” you say quietly, spreading your legs in front of him. 

“You think so?” He’s quick to lather up two fingers in his mouth before plugging them in you. He sits there, flicking upwards against the resisting flesh of your walls, making you wriggle in pleasure. 

“You’ll wake Shoko with a pussy this loud,” he’s immersed in the slick covering his hand with every motion. You head locks onto the girl on the floor whose back faces you both, shoulders rising and falling softly.

“Unless you wanna,” he withdraws his fingers from you, sucking tightly on them before releasing them with a pop. “Dirty girl.”

He’s sliding his raw length against you now, “So wet for me too.”

You’re bobbing your hips downward towards him, nibbling at your bottom lip, anxiously waiting to be penetrated. “Mhmm...” 

Disagreeing with him would only slow down the process.

“That’s right,” he’s hunching over you now, flicking his hard tip against your soaked cunt.

“Now gimme a kiss,” the taste of you is still prominent on his tongue as he cups your face to kiss you. He slides himself into you while still attached to your mouth, feeling your tongue and body contract from the penetration. He’s shuddering into you softly, sucking and pulling on your bottom lip. He gives you air after the first few plunges into your sex, forcing semi-loud sounds from your throat.

The feeling of his curved length is always welcome, stretching you out just right. He knows that you’re so whipped, no matter how much you ignore him at school or pretend to be annoyed with him. When he has you like this, drooling for him, he knows he could probably convince you to do anything. 

The sound of skin slapping skin was thankfully  muffled by the blanket over the both of you. The bed is creaking slightly as he speeds up. You and Satoru would make it a habit to fuck on the futon you took from him to avoid excessive noise at night. 

“I can’t go as fast as I want to,” he grits. He’s frustrated about noise all of a sudden. 

“You should’ve waited until tomorrow, now I’m all worked up. Hurry up and finish.”

“Believe me, I’m trying sweetheart.” 

“Do you both talk this much all the time when you do it?”

The futon speaks, or rather, the young woman now sitting upwards on top of it did. She’s rubbing her eyes and shifting from underneath her blanket. 

“For fucks sake,” she muttered. Satoru smirks wildly, making you slap his arm.

“Sorry Sho,” you say sheepishly. She hardly looks angry at you. Her own eyes are warm and tired as she crawls over to the edge of the bed right beside you.

“It’s okay,” the words are sweet like honey on her tongue. She’s never been angry at you for anything. Even in moments she probably should be. Her hair falls against your chest as she brushes her lips against yours, initiating a kiss. 

Her mouth is soft and feathery, and she doesn’t care for Satoru’s presence at all, inserting herself between you both with her kiss. You find yourself sitting up and kissing her back, even with him still between your legs.

Seeing you kiss someone else, especially having that someone be Shoko, was a different kind of attractive. Still inside of you, Satoru pumped slowly while she hung over the edge of the bed mouthing you off. A sweet moan from you poured into her mouth, her favorite sound, making her smile against you. 

She parts her lips from you, and the look you give her is so smothered and needy. You wanted her in this bed with you too.

“Please,” you whine to her. And she can’t think to say no because it’s you. 

“Of course,” she’s willingly removing her shirt for you. She’s confident about her body, stripping just for you. You nudge Satoru, who separates from you in order to make space for her. She climbs in beside you, making herself comfortable.

“Why don’t you sit back and watch for a bit,” her lips curl into a smile, using a single foot to push him back onto his knees. 

“Beat your cock or something, whatever men do,” she smiles smugly. He laughed deeply before nodding.

“Give me a show,” his voice is low when he says it, positioning himself at the end of the bed. He obediently starts stroking his length covered with your fluids. You on the other hand are waiting for something— anything to help yourself cum. Shoko feels you spread your legs as she presses her hot, bare breasts against your ribs. Her fingers are so slim and smooth, sliding between your folds to play in your slickness.

“Let’s show him how fast I make you cum,” she lowers her voice, blowing air into your ear. She spread goosebumps across your arms and legs, adding a kiss just beneath your ear. You nod loosely.

Her fingers rub delicate, rhythmic circles on your clit. Her mouth is on yours again, tonguing you down while he watches ravenously. Soft squeals pass through your lips while you roll yours hips at her silk touch. 

Two of her nimble fingers prod at your entrance while her tongue swirls around your own. You moan greedily, asking her to stimulate you further by using your body. 

She knows what you want, she always does. And that’s why she pumps them into you, curling at your center. With each curve of smooth padded fingertips against slick flesh, several sounds emanate throughout the room. Ragged breathing, ragged moaning, dick stroking, wet mouths— wet sounds.

Its a lude feeling, being watched like this. They both want nothing more than to ravish you, and you feel it through Satoru’s piercing arctic eyes and Shoko’s refined touch. She’s immersed in you, climbing half way over you while she continues to pump your sex. Her hard nipples irritatedly rub against yours while she pours her tongue into your mouth. She feeds off of your moans, humming back in affirmation. She knows you’re going to cum, you don’t have to say anything to hint at it.

Your cunt splashes against her palm while your body rolls against her. She pulls away to watch your eyes fall back. Sweet relief at last, you think, but she’s hardly done with you.

Shoko pulls her hand from your slimy cunt, laughing softly as she slides her tongue between the two sullied fingers.

“You got all that?” Shoko says, peering back at Satoru, who had been gritting his teeth at the two naked women in front of him.

“Mhmm,” he chuckles. “And are you questioning my ability to make her cum?”

He’s not actually offended, but he’d give anything to put this chick in her place. 

“You were talking a whole lot more than anything else.” She teases, now looking back at you. You’re panting at the two of them, twitching and aching for more like the spoiled brat you are. “Can you get up?” Shes asks.

You nod, pushing what you could of your upper body up. She runs both hands through her hair so confidently, she almost intimidates the both of you. “Good. And you’re gonna be on the bottom, since I can’t stand hearing you talk.” 

She says this without even looking at Satoru, moving over to allow him space to lay between you both. He chuckles, not really paying attention to the insult. “Optimizing the space? I get it now.” 

He lays back flat, arrogantly resting his head against his arms. “Choose your slot, ladies.” 

Shoko rolls her eyes, swinging her leg to hover her steaming sex over his face. You realize what’s happening as she opts you to straddle his lower half. You waste no time, sinking yourself onto his length and shuddering from the extra ripples of pleasure from your previous orgasm. You grip Satoru’s torso for support, nearly resting your head on Shoko’s shoulder. This prompts a moan from him, and the sound has this low growl in it. You clench yourself around him, soaking in the feeling some more.

Shoko wants to see your face while you rock against his length. She pushes your body up, and her eyes are soft on you. You were truly what she craved. Your weak and furrowed brows, your needy expression— everything about you made her ache. She takes your bruised lips in for a wet kiss, sucking on your bottom lip.

“You’ve got a pretty pussy,” Satoru says, blowing cool air against Shoko’s glistening slit.

“All the more reason for you to shut up and eat it,” she parts her lips from yours for only a second to say this. You feel her lower her cunt onto his tongue as she deepens your kiss. He chuckles again. 

“You’re so mean Shoko...” he fake whines. He wraps his mouth around her drenched clit, sucking on it as if he had something to prove. The repeated sucks force a loud moan from her lips and the sound pours onto your own. The song of his scorching tongue against her sex finds your ears, making you rock on onto his sex more with far more need than before.

He’s humming delightedly against her as her slickness pours down his throat. He releases his suction and replaces it with consecutive licks, giving her a break from the almost violent prior stimulation. She’s surprised, bewildered by her classmate’s seemingly flawless pussy eating talent. The short interaction showed her why you tolerated him at least a little bit. She swung her head back, scarfing back a moan as you wrapped a hand around one her breasts, tugging at her erect nipple.

Satoru is merely a prop at this point, allowing the both of you to make a mess on top of him. The experience is somewhat of a dream, as it may be for most men. He’s on cloud nine with the two of you on top of him like this.

You can hear him snickering beneath her as you rock weakly on his length, he was clearly proud of himself. She’s not shy on suffocating him in response, pushing more of her weight against him. He welcomes the action, groaning  at the taste of her dribbling down his chin. He welcomes the action by stuffing his tongue inside of her, earning the highest of pitches from the brunette.

It’s the hottest scene for you, seeing her pant above him like that, but she never takes her eyes off of you. Her mouth his wet, and her gaze pours over your a naked body as your breasts bounce all for her to see. She loved it like this; the best view in her opinion. She sticks out her tongue, practically begging you to suck on it. 

You can hardly deny her looking like this, attaching your mouth onto hers again. 

“(Name)...” she moans your name so punily against you, eyes partially open and glossy with pleasure. She’s dangerously close to orgasming, and Satoru is eerily telepathic. He applies his suction again, humming in affirmation for her to cum for the both of you. 

He reaches one hand to settle against her hip while his other hand firmly holds her upper thigh, somewhat locking her in place. He sloppily buries his face into her while her cunt squelches against his mouth. Keen on making a grand first impression, he worms a hand underneath her and dips two of his large fingers into her sex. Her mouth pops off your yours, throwing her head back as he curls his digits inside the bundle of flesh. She splashes against him, sullying his face. He ejects his fingers, drinking up most of what she creamed out onto his face.

Collapsing in the crook of your neck, her hot breath ignited your body even more, making you rock against Satoru’s length with fevor.

“Fuck, that’s sexy...” He released his mouth from her, groaning between clenched teeth. 

You’re under the impression that Shoko’s done for the night while you attempt you give yourself a final orgasm on top of him. Her hot mouth connects with your neck, sucking and dragging her soft lips against your fiery skin. 

A decadent moan passes your lips, and she hums against you. “Pretty girl, let me spoil you some more...” 

Feathery lips glide down your neck and chest as you brace back, still grinding away. She rolls one of your nipples against her tongue, palming your free mound for you while you focus on reaching your high. Raising her ass from the nest that was Satoru’s face, she smirks at the mess of fluids on his chin that she made, feeling a bit too proud of herself. She crawls up behind your body, pressing her boiling skin and still erect nipples against your back. You relax into her delicate touch, holding one of the hands that groped your breasts for you. 

“Tapping out?” Satoru asks, watching the two of you seemingly phase him out yet again. You’re rocking into him, but seeking so much attention from her. 

“No, I’m prioritizing this sweet lamb of mine,” the words drip from her lips like molasses. Her lips meet your neck yet again, nipping her teeth against the skin before sucking in a way that would surely leave a mark on you. 

“Yours huh?” Satoru grits his teeth. He was inches away from his orgasm just from watching the both of you all over each other like that. His large and calloused fingers grip you hips, guiding your loose humping above him.

“Mhmm,” Shoko hums softly. She doesn’t actually care about laying claim to you. You came to her for a different kind of sex— something he couldn’t provide. “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

You’re entirely faded, head being cocked back on her shoulder for support, only begging her for extra stimulation. She knows this all too well, sticking two of her fingers into your mouth. 

She plays with your tongue shortly before pulling a string of saliva from you. She places her glossy fingers on your clit for you, rubbing in intricate circles. 

The smooth rhythm along with being filled up with his ever-twitching length finally spirals you into another orgasm, one that had been poking at your insides for a while now. You quiver on his length, throwing an arm back to caress Shoko’s hair while you ride it out. She’s moaning with you; she knows how good you’re feeling right now. 

The room is hot and loud with moans, and Satoru can no longer hold his crowning load. His fingers are squeezing (a bit too hard) at your waist, almost bruising you as his toes curl in ecstasy. Watching Shoko grind her naked body against yours was something he would engrave into his brain. She claimed you were the spoiled one. He could argue otherwise, having gotten to see the both of you like this. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out. Thick wads painted the insides of your searing flesh, so much that you were already leaking onto his lap. 

“Good little lamb,” her hot breath finds your ear as your grinding finally subsides. She draws her fingers from you, soundly licking up the juices in your ear.

Your body twitches as it relaxes into her chest. She turns your head for a messy kiss, making your groan against her tongue. Satoru sits back up on his elbows, pushing some of his hair out of his face— as if he did much during this entire interaction.

Shoko gets from behind you, plopping in the space closest to the wall. You rise off his length, weakly motioning him to move over to lay between them.

“This bed is barely big enough for the three of us,” Satoru snickers, snaking an arm over both of your waists.

“You could always go sleep on your futon,” Shoko says, quick to remove his hand from her hip as she reaches for the comforter to cover your bodies. Satoru scowls a bit.

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that.” He rolls his eyes, snuggling closer against you. 

“Yeah~ you could use your futon.” You sleepily  slur, closing your eyes.

“Not you too,” he says quietly into the crook of your neck. 

There was more groggy and teasing conversation, not that the three of you would remember it when the morning came. You all slept in far past your 9AM class together. The best part though, was probably waking up to a half naked Satoru asleep on the futon in the morning. You and Shoko kicked him off the bed throughout the night, and he gave up on trying to separate your bodies from one another.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo sensei #shoko ieiri #shoko ieiri x reader #shoko smut #jjk shoko ieiri #jjk

[heymacy]

@heymrspatel​‘s tags on my recent gifset had me all moon-eyed and inspired, so i wrote a little something featuring a grumpy Mickey, a spooky movie night, and floofy hair. i don’t know how it happened either, but it did, so please enjoy about 1.2k words of Soft Husbands 🥺🥰🖤🎃

“i love you, jerkface” - dani dennison, hocus pocus

Mickey had been in a bad mood all day.

Ian suggested ice cream and a movie, and Mickey agreed, albeit reluctantly, grumbling something about bribery under his breath as he walked out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

He flopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote where it lay beside him, turning on the TV. It opened to the Amazon account they shared with the rest of the Gallaghers, their yearly subscription a gift from Tami last Christmas.

Someone, probably Debbie and Franny, had recently watched “Hocus Pocus” and Mickey snorted softly, remembering how much Mandy loved that movie when they were kids. She watched it almost every day for the whole month of October every year, sometimes randomly in July or December, and Mickey had the whole thing memorized by proxy.

“What d’you wanna watch?” he shouted towards the kitchen where Ian stood, spooning out two bowls of mint chocolate chip. He felt a little bit guilty using the fancy metal ice cream scooper, considering Mickey had snagged it from Debbie’s place a month ago in yet another round of their spiteful kitchen-utensil-abductions. All over a fucking potato masher. They really were a couple of children.

Ian shoved two spoons into each bowl and stuck the ice cream back in the fridge.

“I dunno,” he said as he walked into the living room, shrugging as he passed his husband, whose eyes remained fixed on the TV. “What do you wanna watch?” he asked, and Mickey groaned.

“Don’t do that shit.”

Ian handed him one of the bowls of ice cream.

“What ‘shit?’”

“You know what shit,” Mickey said, distorting his voice a bit in mockery. “Oh I dunno, whatever you wanna watch, baby.” He made a face, scrunching up his nose in feigned disgust.

Ian snorted.

“S’bullshit,” Mickey grumbled, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth as he settled in, pouty as hell. Ian knew that in about 20 minutes, he’d be back to normal. He just needed to get it out of his system.

“Alright, alright,” Ian said, fighting a grin. “How about Hocus Pocus? It’s already up there.” He gestured to the screen with his spoon and Mickey sniffed, shrugging.

“Fine,” he said, knowing that Ian was at least half aware of his history with the film, and avoided eye contact as he slid onto the floor, sitting with his back against the couch.

“Really?” Ian said, smirking, and Mickey just shrugged, swallowing his ice cream.

Ian’s smirk widened.

He slid across the couch to where Mickey sat and threw one of his legs on either side of his husband, capturing his shoulders between his thighs.

“The fuck’re you doin’?” Mickey protested through another mouthful, and Ian just settled in, pressing play on the remote. He listened as his husband mumbled some semblance of a protest before giving up, knowing Mickey didn’t totally hate it when they sat like this.

About thirty minutes into the movie, ice cream long gone, Ian started feeling fidgety.

Mickey chuckled quietly as Sarah reached up into the ceiling, pulling out her “lucky rat’s tail,” and Ian found his hands absentmindedly carding themselves into Mickey’s hair. There was a distinct but soft crunching sound as his fingers ran through Mickey’s hair, breaking through the gel-like product Mickey had used to style it that morning.

“Ow,” he protested, giving his head a little shake. Ian dropped his hands onto his legs.

“Sorry,” he said, refocusing on the movie. He felt Mickey’s hand on his own, moving it back to his head.

“I didn’t say stop,” he mumbled, and Ian was helpless not to grin, thankful that Mickey was turned away from him facing the TV.

He leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his thighs, the strands breaking apart quickly as his husband’s hair returned to its usual soft, fluffy form.

“Your hair is getting kinda long,” Ian mused, only half-thinking as they remained focused on the movie, Dani leaping out from behind the counter with a scream.

Mickey turned his head back around and glared at his husband.

“You gonna get on my ass about my hair, too?” Mickey snapped, irritated, referencing one of the could-go-wrong, did-go-wrongs from earlier in the day. What was supposed to be their attempt at helping Lip and Tami out with the new baby had turned into an impromptu roast session at Mickey’s expense, Lip making some smart-ass remark about Mickey going for the “boyband look” as Debbie egged him on, asking him when he was “going on tour”.

Mickey had just about heard enough and stormed out, already pissed off after dealing with a rude, cheap-ass supplier earlier that morning. Ian had followed, shooting annoyed looks at his siblings before he left, both of them riding home in the ambulance in silence.

Ian realized immediately how his comment probably came off, and he rushed to correct himself.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he said. “I like your hair longer sometimes,” he mumbled, leaning forward and planting a kiss on the top of his husband’s head. Mickey huffed and rolled his eyes, all in show, realizing too late that Ian couldn’t actually see his face.

“Well I’m cutting it off tomorrow, so.” Mickey shrugged. “Won’t have to use that shit anymore,” he said, referring to what he had once called hair gunk.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do,” Ian said, and it was quiet for a minute while Max stole Winifred Sanderson’s spell book.

“Yeah, well,” Mickey said, shrugging, apparently choosing to remain vague and unelaborated.

Ian sighed and continued combing his fingers through Mickey’s hair, picking up the smaller pieces and lifting them, watching as they fell against the rest of the dark mess he’d created.

“You know I like your hair all the time,” Ian said, and Mickey was quiet. “Right?” he asked again, and Mickey just sat there, the very last bit of his resolve slipping away.

Ian slid his fingers into Mickey’s hair and grasped at the strands, yanking his head back so they were looking directly at each other.

“Right?” Ian said, and Mickey finally grinned, just a small curve of his lips that gave way to a lip-bite and a soft chuckle.

“Right, asshole,” he said, grinning, and Ian leaned down, Spiderman kissing his husband softly before leaning back up and pressing one more kiss to the tip of his nose, finally releasing his grip on his hair. Mickey giggled as he settled back in for the rest of the movie. 

When the firefighters left the Sanderson house, Mickey climbed up from where he sat on the floor, crawling into the spot beside Ian. His husband welcomed him in with his arms spread, both of them settling in comfortably to their regular position, Mickey leaning against Ian’s chest, head resting on his shoulder, fingers laced together where their hands rested on Ian’s thigh.

A few minutes later, Mickey turned his face up towards Ian, who looked down at him with happy, tired eyes.

“I love you,” he said, his face apologetic, regretting wasting thirty minutes on the floor instead of in his husband’s arms.

Ian smiled.

“I love you, too, you grumpy bitch,” he teased, and Mickey snorted, grinning, tilting his face up for another kiss that Ian met with a smile.

#me? writing post-finale canon-compliant content? writing something that isn't an AU? i can't believe it either #i have no idea what this is but inspiration struck #also yes i'm working on TLO too so i'm in the grumpy mickey zone i'm SORRY #ficlet #things i wrote #one shot #under 2k #soft husbands

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

[jiilys]

would u help me out for a second. im in the mood to write for the first time, and i think your style is beautiful. sitting down n actually trying though, im stuck as fuck! i’m realizing that in your dialogue/scenes you’ve got a lot of Little Things. little tiny elements that are subtle & just enough. how are you deciding that lily is building a house of cards at the moment or sirius is sitting in a tree or whatever during a given scene? how do you come up with those ideas for dialogue that are so silly & real & sneakily tender? do you know where it’s going when you begin? any advice for just… starting something?

ps: i appreciate you. you make it look easy & that’s very very cool

This is a lovely question!! Sorry it took me so long to get to it, I didn’t want to get it wrong. Also I’ve included some examples to try and explain what I mean in practise, but it also comes off rather like plugging. tragically this is unavoidable. Anyway, all that being said I have no idea how to advise you about dialogue and coming up with it, I think just listening to people talk helps. Don’t forget contractions, and when in doubt always trust the reader to keep up, real people don’t say perfect or even grammatically correct sentences a lot of the time. We also cut each other off all the time, especially when we’re trying to be funny. Like, here’s an example from warm front:

“He’s not even two. He probably would have thought it was, like, having a lie down or something.”

Harry was laughing now, “A lie down?”

“Yeah, a spontaneous, truck-induced–“

“–Permanent–“ “

–Permanent, lie-down. I’m almost jealous now actually.”

Another thing, but people say um and like or can't speak or cut themselves off, especially when they’re nervous. James when Lily says she loves him for the first time: ‘“Wow,” He breathed, “I’m– wow.” He put both hands on her cheeks and kissed her crazy, abruptly, dumbly. Her head spun.’ He can’t even speak! Dumb boy.

I think natural dialogue sometimes just requires you to read it aloud, which is very embarrassing but ultimately quite useful in trying to figure out whether something sounds normal or not. Use casual words, and try not to go dictionary hunting: if you cant think of the word chances are your character can’t either

In terms of concepts I have no idea, but I do have a few tips. I write all my short one-shots in one document (its called ‘just bad’ lmao) so its easy to start something, write a few lines, and then if it doesnt work just start a new concept, but still have all the old stuff handy. if you feel like you’ve written yourself into a corner its probably because you took a wrong turn earlier, so its just a matter of going back up and figuring out where you turned onto the dead end, or where a line could be funnier and/or sadder and/or more meaningful. Sometimes the bare bones of a decent line is there but you have to work it a little.

In this harry/ginny thing where harry is apologising for all the attention and ginny brushes him off she says:

“It’s nothing,” her voice, all force, “Anyway, it’s more funny than annoying.”

The response went through a few drafts, all variations on the same thing:

(1) “You’re funnier.” [too short, doesn’t make sense, and not really that funny. unholy trinity]

(2) “You make it funny.” Harry said, looking at her for real, “It’s not– you make it like that.” [this could work! I have no idea why I cut this, I think I forgot abt it lmao]

(3) “You’re the funniest person I know, Harry said, sincerely, and Ginny felt her heartbeat all through her, “You make it funny.” [jumping from ‘its more funny than annoying’ to getting this sincere out of nowhere is a little much, even for harry who is famously whipped]

I ended up going with this:

“It’s nothing,” her voice, all force, “Anyway, it’s more funny than annoying.”

“You’re funny.” Harry said, looking at her for real, flustered, “I mean– you make it funny. That’s all you.”

It follows the flow of the conversation and I think the way he says it, ‘you’re funny’ like its obvious, and then being like oh fuck and over-explaining it stumbling a little “I mean– you make it funny. That’s all you.”. You know when you like someone and you say something that gives you away before you can stop yourself? I wanted it to sound like that. Just gotta keep in mind how people behave, we are so stupid a lot of the time, we give ourselves away.

The thing about short stuff i find is implying a lot of history without actually describing a lot of it. I normally do this by having memories come up as almost shards, one second of feeling. You know when you’re in a conversation with someone and they mention someone or a past event, and it rises to the top of your brain, but only for a second? i find sometimes when you’re reading stuff people will try and replay entire memories or events mid-conversation, which is not something you do when you think. You don’t need to replay it beat by beat, you were there! This sounds vague as hell so I’ll try and show you what I mean:

From good crimes: “Petunia is engaged.” Lily’s voice, raw and wrong, “To Vernon. Eliza Hunt told me at the supermarket.” Sudden flashes of Petunia, the only time he’d ever met her, sat in the back of Lily’s twenty-first, pinched and whispering. “Whose Eliza Hunt?” This seems as good a thing to say as any.

pretty on the nose (the phrase ‘sudden flashes’ is pretty so i'll allow it from past me). But see how you don’t need to know how Petunia didnt talk to anyone, how she left early, how she was the odd one out: you don’t need to read all that, you already know because she was sat in the back and because pinched is such a mean verb, spiteful and sharp, you can already imagine how the evening went without me saying so

From my proposal take, after Sirius finds out they’re engaged: Sirius’ grip on his shoulder tightened for one second, still grinning, and James knew what he meant. “I know.” He said, because only Sirius had been there for all of it, when they were fifteen, drunk on Firewhiskey for the first time and James had said I think I’ve fucked it, I think I’ve fucked it but I like her for real.

you don’t need a description of the whole night, what party they were at, who they were with, what they were talking about: the important bit is that Sirius was the first person he told, and that they’re both remembering that at the same moment because they’re soulmates lmao. You know when something big happens for a friend and you feel so full of pride & love that you feel like you’ll burst into confetti?? this needed to feel like that, and you only need a flash for it

I feel like I’ve sort of strayed off from what you asked me, which is really advice on how to start something. I normally start with a line, usually of dialogue, and then try and build from there because dialogue is my thing. You might have a different thing! Some people write from concepts or locations, or an image. i might start with one or a few lines of dialogue, write them down, and then try to build from there. For example for the proposal thing I started from james just saying “Marry me”, which I find more romantic than ‘will you marry me’, purely because it sounds like he simply couldn’t stop himself from saying it, like it rushed out. Another example, this thing started from just “don’t be mad at me” “okay” James agreed instantly, because he is such a sucker for her.

When I write I don’t normally know where I’m going! I normally set out to write something I think is vaguely funny and evokes An Emotion, and then I just play around with stuff until I get there. when I write certain stuff and I have scenes in mind, stuff I want to happen, but I find that if I try to plot it to tightly its not exciting to work on, because sometimes you write a good line by accident, that you hadn’t thought of when you sat down, and you surprise yourself. That is a really nice feeling! i want to maximise that feeling.

'What I mostly try to remember is that writing something down, anything down, is useful. Sometimes you write for a whole night and dont get anything useable, but its like clearing pipes. Sometimes you have to flush through shit to get to the good bits. All the rough stuff, the things you don’t like or didn’t work, you wrote to get you to the stuff that did work. All of the bad shit got you here! It wasn’t a waste, you were working to find the good thing

If I had any tips its just the usual stuff, read! It is annoying how much that helps. Also, and I know this may make you shudder, but reading poetry is useful just because in no other literary or media form is language so important. In comics you have pictures, in novels you have plot and character, in film you all that and cinematography, but in poetry you live and die by how good the words are. If you want recs here’s my poem roundup tag, that I do sometimes, or if you want something just now read this by Anne Carson, which uses words like ‘smashing’, ‘boatwash’, and ‘green’ in the best way possible. Also it has these lines: “Recently having learned to recognize the type of tree called sycamore, / I see them in any forest— / the ones that look harrowed, / in shreds, but / go also / straight up into life,”

I mean, think of a sharper image than that?? It’s not possible. Just try remember to stay true to your characters and that in real life, the little stuff is the big stuff. Little things the people around you do normally show they care more than big speeches, and if you want to show love that’s how to make it feel lived in. You want to build a world! the little stuff is usually the world. Take some from your own or dream the ones you wish you had.

This truly was a very kind message and I’m so grateful you like my stuff, I hope any of this was even half-useful, although now reading it back it is borderline nonsensical. I’m going to bed now, good luck with the writing, and don’t forget to send it to me!!

caro xoxo

#writing bitching #said it already but loved this message it was so thoughtful. seemed pretty articulate to me i think ur writing is gunna be just fine!!! #rooting for you & anyone trying to write something rn. words suck and are difficult! they are also better than drugs & sex. regretable #kindnesses

[pascalpanic]

Fixer Upper PART THREE (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: Now you’re faced with an option after Frankie left a tool at your house. How do you make your feelings for Frankie known?

W/C: 2k

Warnings: language, Benny is a menace, fluff :)

A/N: THE THRILLING CONCLUSION! Thank you all for tagging along!

You hardly slept last night. Your mind was filled with the handsome repairman, his smile and his laughter and the fact that he left a vital piece of his equipment in your house. It had to be a sign, right?

Whether or not it was a purposeful move is the question that tormented you until the early hours of the morning. He was a great man, most definitely, but did he mean his jokes and assistance in a way beyond the professionalism he had to have? You couldn’t figure out, and it left you tossing and turning like you had when the air conditioner was broken.

In the morning, you still aren’t quite sure what to make of it. You’d thought that sleeping on it might bring some sense of clarity, but it really hasn’t. Enjoying the cold air of your newly fixed air conditioner, you stare at the wall as you sip your morning coffee. Is there even a solid answer? You’re not entirely sure.

Well, whether or not you’re going to make a move, you suppose he’s going to need that wrench. Lifting your phone, you dial the shop’s number, which is now saved into your speed dial list.

“Standard Oil and Heating,” a man’s voice sounds from the phone, “this is Benny.”

“Hi,” you say with a somewhat cheerful voice. “Uh, is Catfish in today?” You ask the man.

“Gimme one second,” the man murmurs. You can hear paper flipping, as he looks through something on the desk. “Uh, can I ask why you’re calling?” He clarifies.

“Oh, of course. He fixed my oven yesterday and he left one of his tools behind.”

The man- Benny- chuckles. “Oh, you’re the one with the fucked-up house! We’ve heard about you.”

That makes you laugh, but more importantly, makes your stomach flutter nervously. Frankie’s mentioned you to his coworkers. Whether it was in passing or in depth, you don’t know, but he’s mentioned you. Talked about you. “Yeah, that would be me,” you shrug and sip your coffee.

There’s another shuffling of paper and the man makes a small noise of discontent. “Well, it looks like he won’t be in today for whatever reason, but he’ll be here tomorrow. If you wanna bring it in, I can give it to him.”

You pause, then shake your head. Even though he can’t see it, you’re sure he can figure it out. “That’s alright. I’ll just bring it in tomorrow then.”

Benny chuckles a little. “I think he’ll like that. Do you want me to let him know?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll just pop in when I have the time,” you say casually, as if you’re not about to rearrange your entire day around to do so. The note from Benny- I think he’ll like that- makes your smile widen.

“No problem. We’ll see ya then,” he tells you and nods before hanging up.

Well, now you have about twenty four hours before you have to return that wrench. The decision before you still hangs heavy in the air. There’s a good chance he likes you, especially if the man who answered the shop phone was right. His words were subtle but hinting, and the idea was that Frankie has talked about you.

But what if he hasn’t? What if he just mentioned that you have a chronically disastrous house and that was the end of the story? God, there are so many questions, and it makes you annoyed to no end. You groan aloud, grateful to live alone, and drop your head to the cool wood of your kitchen table.

Love is too complicated. Can you even categorize it as love right now? Maybe it’s more of an affection situation. There are too many labels for things, too many variables and ifs and whens. Too many reasons things can go right or can go very very wrong.

Worst of all, if Frankie doesn’t feel the same, you lose a damn good repairman. Well, he’s a good guy. You’re sure he’d still help, but that banter and laughter would certainly be gone. The relationship you have now would be thrown out the window, which you may one day need him to fix.

You have a job, and you do your work as the day progresses, but Frankie’s face takes up permanent residence in the back of your mind, unable to let you focus well. Even as you snag a spare monster cookie during your lunch break, you think of him and how warmly he helped you after you burned yourself.

Your decision wavers back and forth. You have periods of definitiveness, moments where you’re certain you’re going to make a move and moments where you decide you’re going to do nothing at all. It’s agonizing, your inability to make a decision.

Finally, you reach the best conclusion you think you can have. When you drop off the wrench tomorrow, you’ll just read the room. You’ll carefully observe his body language, the way he speaks, and try to take the clues you can find in person. Yeah, that should work. It’s probably the best option too.

Settling in bed, you take a while to fall asleep, pondering possibilities. Eventually, you fall asleep and even your dreams are filled with confusion and twists, a theme of uncertainty filling your unconscious mind.

Then the morning comes. You get dressed into something you’d normally wear to go out running errands. You don’t want anything too cute, anything too casual or sloppy. Even then, you change t-shirts three times until you remind yourself it’s nothing of consequence.

You drink your to-go coffee as you drive to the shop, which you’ve surprisingly never been to in person. For as much as you use their services, you’ve never seen the building. Walking inside, you peek around and find no one. Taking a deep breath and making yourself relax, you ring the buzzer on the desk that sounds in the back.

A man comes to the front, wearing working clothes and a tool belt. His outfit is similar to Frankie’s, but he’s omitted the ball cap. “Hi,” he comments, slightly confused.

“Hey, I’m here for Catfish?” You ask, looking through the window behind the desk that shows the back of the shop. You hold up the wrench, hoping that gives a little indication.

“Oh! You’re her!” The man nods, blue eyes brightening and blonde scruff moving with his smile. “I’m Benny, the one you talked to yesterday.”

He offers his hand and you shake it, smiling and introducing yourself. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too! Fish loves when he gets sent to your place,” he chuckles. “Are you here… just to drop off the wrench?” He asks, implying the very thing that you spent the whole night pondering.

“Hopefully not,” you shrug nervously, an awkward smile on your face.

Benny nods and shoots you a knowing smile. “Fish really likes you.  I’ll just spoil that one for you,” he laughs. “The guy’s like a brother. I can read him damn well. Okay, enough of that. I’ll send him out here, or do you wanna come on back?”

“I’ll come back with you?” You say, half-questioning and half-stating. The man waves you along and you follow him into the back.

“Fish,” Benny calls, and Frankie’s head pops up from a tool bench. He’s facing away from the two of you.

“What do you want?” He grumbles, not turning. He’s too focused on whatever he’s tinkering with, using pliers and wire and tape.

“God, you’re an asshole, Frank. Sure you don’t wanna leave?” He asks you jokingly.

At the question being directed elsewhere, Frankie turns and his eyes widen as he spots you. “Hey, what are you doing here?” He asks.  Benny respectfully backs out of the room without saying anything, allowing the two of you to have your conversation.

“You left your wrench,” you chuckle and awkwardly hold it up.

“Oh, that’s where I left it,” Frankie says, though you learn that he’s a terrible liar through the tone of his voice. “Thanks for bringing that back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you assure him and smile.

There’s a beat of silence before the both of you try to speak. Neither of you manage to get anything out before you realize the other is speaking. Then you stumble over your words, each of you assuring the other that they go. Then there’s more of that, letting the other speak, and silence, then he breaks it.

“I, uh, left that on purpose,” he admits, face reddening beneath the brim of his blue ball cap.

“Well, I wanted to bring it back specifically to say that I really like you,” you admit and fold your arms awkwardly.

His face practically lights up, looking up at you with a mixture of love and shock and excitement. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod and place the wrench down on the work table in front of him. “What time do you work until tonight? Would you like to come back to my cursed house and I’ll make dinner?” You offer, leaning against his table.

Frankie grins. “I’d love that, yeah. I’ll bring my tool belt just in case,” he chuckles, which makes you genuinely laugh and in turn widens his smile. “You don’t have to make anything though.”

“I will though,” you shrug, your body loosening now that the tension is gone. He feels the same. “Now that my oven is working, we’re all good.”

He chuckles and looks down at the wiring piece he was working on before looking back at you like he’d look at a gorgeous work of art. “I work until 5. Sometime after that?” He offers.

“Seven it is. Do you have any food restrictions?”

He shakes his head. “I eat anything and everything in massive amounts,” he chuckles. “I’m sure anything you make would be great.”

“Well, I’ll text you what I’m making if I can have your phone number,” you offer, a little confidence boosting from the fact that he clearly reciprocates your feelings.

“Yeah,” he grins and takes your phone when you hand it to him, entering his contact. Fix-it Frankie: cell, 589-283-1975.

“Fix-it Frankie?” You laugh and beam at him. “God, you’re a dope.”

He shrugs and blushes but he’s still clearly happy, more than willing to take your teasing. “Alright, I gotta keep working on this, but I’ll walk you out,” he offers and stands.

The two of you walk to the front and Frankie opens the door for you. You walk outside and he follows. “Well, see you tonight,” you grin at him.

“See you then,” he nods.

The two of you go for the hug, but awkwardly dodge to each side, trying to figure out the proper angle. When the gap between your bodies finally closes, you realize neither of you considered your faces. They’re awkwardly smushed together, lips on lips. You’re kissing.

“Oh no,” you laugh and back up, cupping Frankie’s face and softly scratching at the stubble.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Frankie mutters, embarrassed but laughing as he looks into your eyes.

Your face is still close to his, your bodies in a hugging position. “Well, we better do that right,” you giggle.

Frankie nods, his cheeks hurting from how much you’ve made him smile. It falls as his face closes the distance to yours, kissing you gently and sighing into your lips.

The moment is short, soft and sweet. You’re in public and fully conscious of it, and you don’t want to seem weird. When you break away, you kiss his cheek, admiring the scratch of his beard against your lips. “See you tonight, Fix-it Frankie,” you tease and walk off to your car.

“See you!” He calls and raises one large hand in a wave. He’s still flustered as you drive off and wiggle your fingers at him in a similar wave. His eyes follow your car until it’s out of sight.

Frankie walks back inside and rolls his eyes at the sight of his blonde best friend staring at him. “Don’t you even-“

“Hell yeah!” Benny whoops and holds up the wrench as if it were a victory prize.

“Shut the fuck up,” he frowns and snatches it from his hand, tucking it back in his tool belt.

As annoyed as he is by Benny, he can’t be mad. He has a date tonight with a woman he already knows can cook and hold her own in such a shitty house- well, aside from repairs. Thank God for faulty air conditioning.

-

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[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (02)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn't want an Alpha; you didn't need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars

AO3 Link      Masterlist

Seaside Paradise Tokyo.

Or, how Niragi introduces it to you, the Beach.

He leads you inside as if he owns the place. You wouldn’t doubt it, noticing how the people around get out of his way or hurriedly leave the room. You gulp; not a good sign. You look around the big lobby of what used to be a luxury hotel. The first thing you notice is how everyone is wearing some kind of swimwear; Niragi seems to be the exception. 

There are more people there than what you’ve seen in weeks, and the sight fills you with anxiety. You know everyone knows exactly what you are and what you’ve done; it would be impossible not to. You notice the whispers and barely masked expressions of surprise and curiosity as those strangers smell you. Smell him in you. 

You keep your eyes down as Niragi guides you through the building to an unknown destination. The hand on your lower back is warm and makes you feel less tense. You have no idea what to expect; you don’t know these people or what they stand for. You have no idea what you just got yourself into. But, for better or for worse, at least he’s there and you know he will keep you safe. No matter what. 

You risk a sideways glance at him. He doesn’t look at you, but you notice the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk, his fingers brushing against your lower back. You blush; you hadn’t exchanged more than a few words since you left the roof, but his hand never stopped touching you.

The people who were hunting you just hours before now stand behind you, whispering. It's a small group; four men and two women. You haven’t been introduced yet, but you feel like those people know way too much about you already. You remember the ride to that place and the moments before that, cringing. 

Saying that it had been awkward would be an understatement; it was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Like the walk of shame you would see sometimes in American movies, but worse. Oh so much worse.

Words weren’t needed for them to know what had transpired on the roof. They had known the moment you appeared in front of them; sweaty, dirty, clearly disheveled and reeking of him. It also didn’t help how Niragi had shown up right behind you, chest puffed like a peacock and a grin on his face. 

No one had directed a word at you. The women just smiled in your direction and the men pat Niragi’s back, smirking and throwing around some distasteful comments that made him laugh. It made you feel like some kind of trophy; you supposed you were.

You had sat in the back of a car with just him, one of his men on the wheel while a woman sat on the passenger seat. You could feel their eyes on you, and you squirmed in your seat. Niragi’s hand was on your knee, thumb rubbing your skin in circles as he hummed a melody you didn’t recognize. Your head was full of questions; where were you going? How many people were there? What expected you? You had no idea. You stared out of the window at the empty streets of Tokyo, lost in your thoughts.

“Where do you keep your cards?” he had suddenly asked, startling you.

“Uh, hm my cards? In a backpack in my shelter,” you answered, brow raised. “Why?”

“Where is that?”

You had given the necessary directions to your most recent hiding spot and he transmitted them through a walkie-talkie. The rest of the ride was made in silence (eyes still on you), so you returned your attention to the passing view outside. However, the hand on your knee was still the major focus of your brain, and you kept replaying your encounter in your head; how his hands-

A door closing behind you brings you back to the present. You look around the big room you’re in now, taking in your surroundings; a long table occupies the center of it, with some sofas in a corner. Like everything else in that place, it looks expensive. You’re also not alone in that room; several strangers have their eyes locked on you. Their expressions go from barely hidden curiosity to blatant distrust. You tense, feeling threatened; you wonder if you could run past the guards by the door if the need arises. Niragi’s hand goes around your waist, pulling your body to his side in a movement that isn’t unseen by the others.

“So it’s true!” a voice exclaims, making you jump. The man sitting at the head of the table stands up, walking in your direction with open arms and a grin on his face. He’s dressed in just a pair of swim trunks and a colorful kimono, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. His cheery demeanor puts you off for some reason. “You really bonded with an Omega!”

“We’re not bonded.” “They’re not bonded.” You blurt out at the same time as someone else. You look for the owner of the voice, and your heart stops when you set your eyes on him. You have no idea how you missed him; how his scent didn’t hit you as soon as you walked through those doors.

An Alpha.

You can definitely smell him now. Niragi’s scent is spicy and warm, like cinnamon and wood. This Alpha’s scent, however, is the complete opposite; he smells like something clean and fresh, like peppermint and rain. You look him up and down; he isn’t exactly how you would describe an Alpha; He’s shorter than most men and lean, with features that strangely remind you of a cat. His hair is white and his cold dark eyes pierce into yours while showing no emotion. However, there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Yes, he definitely gives you cat vibes.

Niragi feels your body react before you do. His frame is blocking your vision before you can say or do anything.

“She’s mine!” he snarls in the direction of the other man. “You better stay the fuck away.”

You furrow your brow and push him aside. Indignation and anger rise inside you. You’re not his; not really. What you did is nothing definitive. He has no right in claiming you like that. Niragi stares at you in surprise before his eyes narrow. You notice his jaw clench. Well, he can stay mad for all you care.

“Stop talking about me like I’m a damn object!” you mutter to him, arms crossed over your chest, “We’re not bonded.” you clarify aloud. You lock eyes with the other Alpha; he’s full-on smirking now, something like amusement glinting in his eyes. It makes something tingle inside you. You ignore the sensation. “I don’t-”

“We’re not bonded yet.” Niragi grabs your arm and pulls you to him, hands possessively going around your waist. His glare never leaves the other Alpha as he says, “We will be, once she’s in heat, so back the fuck off.” In a swift movement, the riffle on his shoulder is on his hand, pointing it right at the other man. “If I even think you touched a hair on her head-”

“That’s for her to decide, no?” he retorts, a smirk still on his lips. His taunt expression doesn’t change as he winks at you, “Name’s Chishiya.”

You barely have time to grab Niragi’s arm as he lunges himself in the direction of the shorter man. “Niragi, stop!” And surprisingly, he does. The murderous rage in his eyes doesn’t disappear nor he lowers the gun, but he stops. 

“Niragi,” a man calls, a warning tone in his voice. He’s sitting at the other head of the table, arms crossed and face stoic. A scar runs across his left eye. “Easy there.”

“No no, Aguni, let them continue,” says the man that had first spoken when you arrived. The grin still hasn’t left his face. “This is quite entertaining.”

You take a deep breath, wondering once again where the hell did you get yourself into. You quickly assess the room; the people sitting around that table just stare, clearly not meaning to get involved in a dispute between two Alphas. You can feel the situation escalating, and no one seems to want to do anything.

“Niragi,” you put your hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his lower lip, “Drop it, please. You’re scaring me.” He finally looks at you, and his expression softens. You hoped that would work; you had seen your mother do the same to your father dozens of times. Niragi lowers the gun, and you let out a sigh of relief.

The sound of claps startles you.

“Fascinating!” the man in the kimono and sunglasses says in the middle of clapping. “Not even Aguni there can calm down Niragi as fast as you just did.” he chuckles, “Are you sure that he’s the Alpha in the relationship?”

You feel Niragi tense against you, but he keeps silent.

“You know, my grandparents were bonded too.” the man continues without waiting for an answer. “I never really understood the dynamics of Alpha and Omega relationships though, it sounds so bothersome. Being bonded for life with someone you normally wouldn’t even stand just because of your animal sides,” he shakes his head. “Didn’t stop my grandfather from cheating though.”

You look down; it hadn’t stopped your father either.

“Anyway, welcome to the Beach!” he slightly bows in a greeting, “And your name is?”

“Y/N,” you say. You hear Niragi whisper your name, and you realize he didn’t know it until now. He doesn’t know anything about you. Nor you about him.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Hatter.” he walks back towards his spot at the head of the table, sitting down like a king on a throne. “Now Y/N, there are only three rules in this utopian Beach. Rule number one:” he points at himself, “Always wear swimwear at the Beach. Rule number two-”

“Why swimwear?” you interrupt. Walking around so exposed is not something you like. “Niragi doesn’t wear one.” 

“Well, for safety reasons, of course,” he explains. “You can’t hide weapons in a swimsuit.” he chuckles, nodding at Niragi, “And your boyfriend there just simply refuses to wear one. Not that it makes a difference; he’s always carrying that riffle around anyway.” he clears his throat, “As I was saying, rule number two is that all cards belong to the Beach. You’ll give us all the cards you have in your possession as well as every card you’ll get in the future. If you contribute a lot you can even be promoted to a higher number and, eventually, leave this country.”

“Wait, what do you mean leave?” a spark of hope; there is a way to leave that hell hole.

“Oh, your boyfriend didn’t explain it to you?” Hatter asks, “If you’re able to get every card, you can go back to the real world. We work by numbers here; I am number one, which means I’ll be the first to leave when we get all the cards. After me is Aguni, as he’s number two and so on. So, if we all put in the work and gather enough double cards, everyone on the Beach will be able to leave this country eventually.”

“Is it true?” you turn to Niragi. “We can actually leave?”

He nods, “I want her to have the number before mine.” he says in Hatter’s direction. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“We have a system in place, Niragi,” a bespectacled man speaks at Hatter’s right, “We can’t change it just because you have...fallen in love, or whatever it is. There are rules”

“Kuzuryū is right,” adds a woman in shorts and sunglasses. Her tone is bored, but her body language tells you she’s interested in the conversation, “She has to prove her worth. If she can’t, then she’ll have to get in line just like everyone else.”

You feel Niragi’s body tense up again, gun rising just a little.

“I don’t need charity,” you speak before he can, pressing the gun down. “I’m more than capable of rising up the rankings by myself. And I’ve been surviving on my own just fine, so I know I can do this.”

“Y/N, no-” 

“Oh, so she plays by the rules,” Chishiya. You had almost forgotten about him if it wasn’t for the scent of peppermint mixing with the scent of cinnamon. “What’s your specialty?”

“My specialty?”

“Yeah, what kind of games are you good at?”

“I- I don’t know.” You just did your best to survive while staying away from others. That made games of clubs particularly difficult, but nothing you couldn’t overcome. “Never really thought about it.”

“Then I guess we will find out.” the woman from before says. 

“It’s settled then!” Hatter declares with a clap. “Ann here will personally evaluate your gaming skills. You’re free to indulge in whatever you wish to, at the Beach; alcohol, drugs, sex. Have fun and enjoy yourself while you can. Just remember the third rule; the last and most important rule,” he makes a dramatic pause. “Death to the traitors. Not even your Alpha boyfriend could save you if you broke that rule.” You feel the threat in his words as much as Niragi does, but both of you keep quiet. “Is that clear?” You nod in confirmation. “Great! Meeting adjourned.”

Niragi is pulling you out of the room before you can ask any more questions; you happen to have a lot of them, but decide to keep them to yourself for now.

“Why the fuck did you stop me from trying to help you?” he asks without looking at you. You almost trot while trying to keep up with his long legs. “I’m trying to keep you safe, goddammit!”

“But I don’t need saving!” you retort with a huff, “I’m more than capable of standing up for myself and get stuff on my own.”

He abruptly stops in the middle of the empty hallway, hands grabbing your shoulders. “Have you forgotten about what we agreed upon?” he asks with a scowl. A strand of raven hair falls over his eyes and you have to fight the impulse to tuck it behind his ear. “You’re mine, remember?”

“Well, and you seem to forget that I have some rules I would like for you to respect!” you talk back, arms crossing over your chest. “The first one is for you to stop acting as if you own me.”

“But I-”

“You don’t!” you interrupt a little too loudly, “I won’t let this fucking animal in me decide what I want. And you better do the same!”

“Trouble in paradise already?” a voice makes you freeze. You turn to face Chishiya, just a few meters behind you. The look in his eyes is something like malice and amusement; he likes whatever he’s seeing.

Niragi lets out a dramatic sigh, “Oh for fuck’s sake, will you fucking leave me alone and die?!” he pinches the bridge of his nose before pointing the rifle at the man once again, “I really have no fucking patience for you right now, so fuck off will ya?”

Chishiya huffs out a laugh and raises his hands in mocking surrender. “I was just passing by, you are the one that decided to have a fight in the middle of the hallway.” He keeps walking in your direction and purposely passes in between you two, arms still raised in the air. Your mind fogs for a moment as his scent takes over your brain and his eyes lock into yours. Something flashes in his dark brown eyes; something you can’t quite place, but that you’re sure it’s his wolf showing himself for just a moment. “See you around,” he waves as he disappears around a corner.

“I fucking hate that white-haired freak,” Niragi mumbles beside you. “I swear to God, if he even thinks about touching you, I’m shooting-”

“And if I want him to?” you say without much thinking. “At least I would be-”

Your breath is taken out of you as Niragi presses you against a wall.

“Say that again,” he practically growls in your ear as his chest presses against your back. Heat pools between your legs instantly, and you want to curse yourself; your wolf could at least have a little dignity. His nostrils flare as he buries his nose on your neck, right above your pulse. You feel the piercing of his tongue on your skin, and you shudder. “I’ll make you say those exact words again while I’m deep inside you, and let’s see if you’ll want him by then.”

“Ge- get off me, you brute,” you manage to say.

“Yeah?” his crotch presses against your ass, and you feel him growing hard, “Now say it like you mean it.”

“Hmm-hmm.”

You press against him, giving in just a little. He does make you feel good. His mouth starts gently sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck. You moan.

“Niragi.”

You jump at the sound of someone calling his name right behind you, hurriedly pushing Niragi off of you. The man with the scar over his eyes, Aguni, stands there, a look of barely hidden discomfort breaking what seems to be his usually stoic expression. 

“You guys know that this is a public hallway, right?” he asks with a sigh, “Please get a room.”

He walks away before any of you can say anything. Niragi shrugs and tries to pull you against him again before you swiftly contort yourself out of his arms.

“No, no, no, we’re not doing this,” you point between you two, shaking your head. “Especially not here. We have a lot to discuss.”

Niragi sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” he says in a reluctant tone. “Let’s find something for you to change into, then,” he says with a smirk, signing at you to follow him. “And we’re not done here.”

“Hm, we’ll see about that,” you retort, following him.

He leads you through the building while explaining things in a bored tourist guide tone; how they manage to have water by harvesting rainwater, how electricity is powered by generators, and how things are organized every time there’s a game. You also ask small things here and there, like how many people live at the Beach and what everyone usually does for fun. He answers you semi-patiently. He finally stops at a door, opening it to reveal a room that you guess was configured to be a storage room for clothing.

“Choose whatever you want from here,” he says before giving you a plastic bag and leaning against the threshold. “Take your time.”

You go through the room, promptly avoiding anything too flashy or colorful; the last thing you want is to get unwanted attention. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach as you search through the clothes; you keep wondering if this was the safest choice. Too late now, anyway. You wish Niragi had at least let you keep your knife; you hate feeling defenseless.

After some rather quick browsing, you end up choosing a simple, black one-piece, together with two pairs of too-short jean shorts and a too-thin jacket hoody. You also pick up some underwear and two or three pairs of shirts.

“I’m done.”

Niragi takes the bag from your hands without a word, extending something to you. You take it; is a wristband with a number attached. Forty-two.

“Is this my number?” you wonder. He nods. “Isn’t this a little too high? I just got here, after all.”

“You don’t have many valuable cards, so that’s the highest number I could get you for now,” he says with a shrug.

“But I said-”

“Yeah I know what you said, just put on the damn thing, will ya?” he says in a harsh tone. You hesitate for a moment before putting it around your wrist; you won’t fight him more on this particular subject. You intend on getting an even higher number, anyway; you want out of this place as quickly as possible. He seems pleased when you don’t talk back. “Good girl. Now let me show you to your room.”

You ignore the feeling his words of praise make you feel and follow him close behind. Your room ends up being a large bedroom on the upper floors of the hotel, luxurious but simple in style, with a balcony that gives you access to the best views. It also happens to not be your room at all; his scent is everywhere. 

“This is your room,” you say matter of factly, turning to him with a sigh. “Am I not allowed to have my own room?”

“No, you’re not,” he says back, dropping your bag of clothes on the bed. “Now change.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling annoyed. It’s like he’s set on getting you angry. “I won’t share my room with a stranger. I want my privacy.”

“A stranger?” he growls, stopping right in front of you. You keep your eyes firmly locked on his, even when his hand grabs your chin with a little too much force. “What we have is stronger than anyone else in this place could even begin to comprehend. I’m not gonna let you ruin it because you’re too stubborn to fully accept yourself. That is not my problem.” His words hurt you more than you care to admit, and you have to fight the tears that threaten to overflow your eyes. “Want a fucking room to yourself? Fine,” his grip on you tightens. His eyes are like fiery ice. “But stop rejecting me, or you’re gonna regret it.” 

“You’re hurting-”

“I made you a promise,” he continues, “When you’re finally in heat and ready to take me completely, I’ll do it.” His lips brush against yours, and you shudder, “And you’ll take me, like the good little wolf that you are.”

His kiss is like a fire that burns you from within. His touch sends sparks all over your body, and you feel your wolf howling with desire, despite the feeling of his cum still on your thighs from just hours earlier. His hands pull you flush against him, and you have to control a moan as his hand gets inside your shorts to squeeze your ass. His other hand is still on your face, keeping you in position as he devours your mouth, tongue pushing against your own so forcefully that you feel like you’re going to choke.

He’s pushing you against the mattress moments later, forcing a knee in between your legs. You grind on his thigh, wanting to feel him even closer; it almost hurts how horny you are. He keeps kissing you until you’re gasping for air, moving his lips to suck on your neck as you whimper his name. 

“Could any stranger make you feel like I do?” he whispers in your ear, “I’m no fucking stranger.” he bites your earlobe. “I’m your fucking Alpha, and you’ll respect me as such.” He suddenly turns you on your stomach, and you freeze. “How about I fuck you like an animal? Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate your wolf side more.” he says as his hands start pulling your shorts down your legs. You’re frozen in place, fog dissipating to be replaced by growing panic.

“No, wait-”

“Learn your fucking place,” he says as he pulls you up against him by the hair, hand sliding down your front to rip your shirt. “Take me like you were born to do.”

“Niragi, please-” you plead as you try to push him away. He doesn’t listen, pushing you back on the bed as the shirt finally leaves your back. You whimper when the cold air hits your naked skin.

You can hear a feather fall in the silence that follows. You keep frozen, face down on the sheets as tears fill your eyes. He stopped touching you, and you know what his eyes are seeing. You can feel them, burning into your back like hot iron.

“Who did this to you?” he asks in a tone you can’t quite place. You don’t answer; you can’t even face him. You don’t want to see the look of disgust or pity in his eyes. You fail to control the sob that leaves your lips, and simply shake your head, curling your legs under you.

Another moment passes before you feel something covering you. You don’t look, even when you feel him stand up away from the bed, his footsteps sounding to your right as he opens a door. You peek then and see Niragi, shirtless, by a closet. You gasp. He retrieves another shirt and puts it on. He closes the wardrobe door and you lock eyes through the mirror that appears. His eyes have no emotion on them as he averts his gaze and walks out of the room, closing the door without a sound.

You slowly stand up on the bed, still trying to control your gasping breathing. His back. You dress the item of clothing he put on you; his shirt. His scent involves you, and it instantly calms you down.

His back.

Maybe you’re not so different after all.

You wake up startled by the sound of the bedroom door closing. The room is dark, and you force your eyes to identify the tall figure standing by the door. Not that you need to; you can smell him. Him and the reek of alcohol as he gets closer. You pretend to be asleep as he stops right in front of you.

“You kept my shirt,” he says like he’s surprised. You had; after he left you had taken a long warm shower and immediately got in bed, his shirt around you to comfort you. You hear him go to the other side of the bed and sit down. You hear his boots hit the floor as he throws them somewhere across the room. Then he’s laying beside you with a sigh.

“Lie, abuse, betrayal, murder, steal,” he pauses briefly, “I’ve done it all. More times than I care to count.” Your body tenses, but you keep quiet. He lets out a humorless chuckle, “I know you’re awake.” You hear him move to his side, and feel as his fingers start playing with your hair. “I’ll let you know this, though. The next person that dares to even lay a finger on you is getting a fate worse than death. I promise.”

You stay quiet, even as you feel tears sliding down to your temple. His words shouldn’t make you feel like this; like you matter. Like he loves you. You know he doesn’t; not really. But you can’t stop the warmth that fills your heart at hearing his words and feeling his hand in your hair. People always told you how Omegas should feel, but you never understood; you are starting to now.

You turn around when you hear his breathing slow down to a soft snore. You close the gap between you by curling up against his chest, smiling when his arm goes around your waist.

For the first time in weeks, you sleep without nightmares.

Next Chapter

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #niragi #niragi x reader #chishiya shuntaro #also on ao3

[tarithenurse]

Spark - 26

Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force. Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader. Content: Feels, worry, injuries, tiredness, fluff. Lack of proofing. A/N: Thanks to all of you who have wanted tags, reblogged, commented, and liked <3 I’m very happy that you’ve stuck with this story all the way to the end. Thank you!

26. Warm heart

...  Konro   ...

The news of [Y/N] and Beni’s return (including the woman’s condition) had spread like wildfire among the residents of Asakusa and particularly the older women had taken it upon themselves to lighten the workload of Company Seven by providing hot meals – sent over by wide-eyed grandchildren who looked too dejected for Konro to bear when he tried to say none of this was necessary because in spite of what the neighbourhood seemed to think, everything had returned to some semblance of normal within a day.

“Time for bed, girls,” Konro begins to usher Hinata and Hikage out of the kitchen.

None of them look up from the drawings they’re working on (one depicting a demonic infernal washing the floor). “No,” they agree in creepy unison, “we’re strong independent women who don’t need a man to tell us what to do.”

...what? He doesn’t have to ask where they would have heard something like that: just this morning [Y/N] had said something along those lines to Benimaru when he tried to order her back to her sick bed. If only I’d known better. Konro had chuckled, telling his old friend to give up on the protectiveness, for now at least.

Staring down at the twins, the scarred man crosses his arm calmly. “Try again.”

Seconds later, papers float in the air as Hinata and Hikage have changed their minds and are sprinting off to get ready for bed.

...  Reader   ...

Ow. Ooow. Eeek. Ow. Ouch.

Limping past Benimaru’s office, you’re thankful the door is closed as you don’t need him to see how you’re gritting your teeth in pain. Maybe he had a point this morning...ow.

He had caught you leaving your room – your destination being the kitchen where Konro was busy serving breakfast for everyone present at the Special Fire Force Company Seven’s headquarters – and promptly ordered your back to bed, completely ignorant of the fact that you’d spent a full day there already and you were bored out of your mind. Opinions had been...exchanged before he let you do what you wanted for the rest of the day.

And now I’m paying the price. Every body part is screaming in protest at the mere idea of moving, littered with bruises and swells, and you’re fairly sure you’ve pulled a few of the stitches on your thigh. Just a bit more. Down the hall and around the corner, then you can collapse onto the futon and get the weight off your swollen ankle.

“Have I ever told you, you’re stubborn?” Beni’s bored voice stops any progress.

Fuck. “Once or twice,” you grit out, refusing to turn to see him standing there, probably arms crossed and leaning against the doorpost, “I take it as a compliment.”

“Figures.” There’s a huff and then you can feel him right behind you. “[Y/N]...” lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “please...you don’t have to do everything alone and I know how strong you are. Let me he-...let me be of use.”

Oh, it’s tempting. You remember parts of the trip back from the Nether and how it had felt to be pressed against his warm body, nuzzling against the crook of his neck to inhale the mixed scents of coals, cedar, and light sweat. It had made it bearable whenever unconsciousness shifted and you were brought back to the pain.

Now Benimaru’s arms snake around your waist and under your knees and you realize you’ve said yes without meaning to, allowing him to lift and hold you against him once more. He tries to move carefully, reducing the jostle as much as he can even as he lays you down.

“[Y/N]...the wound...” The frown on his face could be either worry or exasperation as he shows off the blood that’s seeped through your trousers and onto his shirt.

“Sorry?”

Somehow, he accepts not getting a hold of the doctor. “I’ll...I’ll get what we need to rebandage it while you...” He motions to the bloody clothes, a pink tinge rising to the tip of his ears before he hurries out of the room.

It’s easier said than done and you’ve only managed to wriggle your butt out of the pants by the time he returns with cloths, bandages and hot water. Eyeing the lack of progress, Benimaru wordlessly asks for permission to help with the rest (leaving you in underwear and an oversized t-shirt) which he is granted – you’re too exhausted to keep up the hopeless charade of independence, preferring to be cared for. By him, specifically.

The large hands work meticulously, gently shifting off the layers of the soaked bandages while you lie back to watch in wonder. His shock of black hair can’t obscure the frown or the way he pulls his lips tight when the cloth sticks to the wound and you bite back a hiss of pain. He cradles your thigh with a subtle grasp as he begins to dab away the mess and turning the damp cloths continuously lighter shades of pink until everything finally is clean again.

“You’re luckier than you deserve,” Benimaru grumbles, “stitches are holding. It’s just been seeping from underneath.”

Pushing yourself up by the elbows, you can see he’s right and that a new bruise has formed around the wound. Okay...I’ll have to take it easy a few days more. “Fine...maybe you were right.”

“Maybe? Trust me, by the time it’s wrapped up, you’ll know I’m right.”

It’s obvious that’s he’s taking care, trying to shuffle your leg as little as possible and such, but the bandage has to stay in place and so he can’t let it be too loose. Sure, after the first layers of foamy material directly on the wound, the shifting pressure isn’t quite as bad...but it’s bad enough. Your nails are digging into your palms, teeth into lip, and tears are pouring down your cheeks even if you aren’t making a sound by the time Benimaru is done and has lifted your ankle up by placing a stack of pillows under the calf and foot.

“I’m sorry,” he hushes you, spreading the covers over you, “I really tried to be careful.”

“Mhmm.” You don’t trust your voice to say anything else, but lift the covers aside for him to join you. “Please?”

Something deep and warm moves in those mix-matched eyes of his as you studies your face. Then he discards everything but his boxers and lies down on his side, facing you. The touch of his fingertips is barely there as he wipes away the tracks of the tears.

“I know...I won’t always be able to prevent you from hurting...but I wish I could, babe,” he whispers.

Of course he can’t. It doesn’t matter though, you decide, as long as he’ll be there to help you afterwards and you tell him as much, words mumbled against his lips before losing yourself in a slow kiss.

You are both out of breath when he breaks away.

“I’m not letting you leave bed tomorrow except for the absolute minimum!” Beni vows.

“I could be convinced if you come and cuddle up with me sometimes.”

Raising an eyebrow at the weak smirk you grant him, he seems to consider the idea for a few seconds before smiling: “Fine. I can accept that.”

#Shinmon Benimaru #benimaru #Fire Force Benimaru #Spark 26 #benimaru shinmon #Benimaru x fem!reader #Benimaru x reader #Benimaru love #Benimaru feels #Benimaru angst #Benimaru slow burn #Benimaru fluff #Benimaru fanfic series #Fire Force #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai #Anime #Anime fanfic #Anime fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #wip #finished #x reader #x fem!reader #x you #Benimaru x you #Spark fanfic series

[nonbinarykai]

Okay you know what, I’ve held this back far enough

Why I hate canon Kailor sm

Tw:// misogyny ment, incest ment

Im not gonna tag Kailor on this for obvious reasons plus this is kinda a long post, I don’t mind fanon Kailor mostly because tbh I don’t think it’s really a big thing and most I have seen of it is fine. Don’t read this if you like Kailor and don’t want to hear it bashed

Okay listen, s4 is my favorite season out of all ninjago, but if theres one thing I hate about it the most is Kailor. This ship has always been really annoying to me throughout the show, and I’ve hinted towards that in my blog. But why?

1. It’s basically jaya redone

Kailor brings nothing new or interesting to the table because honestly? It’s literally just the same dynamic as jaya. Socially awkward guy simps for usually unimpressed girl until she eventually caves in and they start dating.

Not only has this already been done before with jaya, but is also completely out of character for Kai to do.

While I admit seeing Kai as a flustered dork is kinda funny, once you realize the context of the situation that they’re in it’s pretty clear that Kai would never actually do this.

Reminder: Kai JUST found out his dead friend is alive and is forced to recognsizle with friends in order to get him back

Usually when Kai is presented in a situation like this, what he normally does is set himself dead first on the task at hand and usually ignores any distractions. He’s mostly distance and seemingly uncaring

((note this is after Zane died and Kai ran away from the ninja because of cole and jays bickering, knowing him he wouldn’t be the most excited to be back. His arc should have revolved around coming to terms with lost friendships due to death or distance but that never happens)).

What Kai DOESNT do is immediately fall head over heels for a girl he JUST meet to the point where even when he sees his DEAD FRIEND ALIVE AND WELL he completely ignores that for a girl he meet less then a week ago

This is something JAY would do, not KAI, Kai is a loyal friend who do anything to save his friends, he cherishes them and would fight god to help them with anything they need, he doesn’t forget them for someone new

It also does skylor unjustice as well, but we’ll get there when we get there

2. It adds nothing to the characters and is otherwise never mention again

You know how bad you fuck up a relationship if the best aspect of it is how it’s rarely on screen

Even considering the fact Kailor is just jayas dynamic, the connection between skylor and Kai feels completely non existent or one sided

Most of Kailor revolves around Kai simping for skylor

They have no common interests, common goals, they rarely actually talk outside of lloyds plan to overthrow chen

The whole relationship feels forced every time it’s brought up because of how disconnected they both are to eachother, Kai only likes skylor because she’s hot and that’s it, nothing else about her is actually interesting to Kai in anyway ((again sort out of character for him in this situation))

Skylor and Kai don’t form any genuine bond with eachother, it feels hallow and empty

Let’s compare this to lava, wait no that would be to easy, let’s compare this to pixane

Pixal and Zane both genuinely like and respect eachother, they both share bonds outside of being robots, they both care about eachother enough to know when they’re uncomfortable or need help

Kailor is barely mentioned past s4 and most of it in s4 is Kai being a creep

Oh yeah let’s get to that

3. It’s really really creepy

Im sorry I don’t find incest jokes funny ninjago, it’s just really uncomfortable and creepy

Hopefully this goes without saying but Kai thinking skylor is hot, figuring out they might be related and no longer finding her hot, and then finding out they aren’t and thinking she’s hot is really weird and creepy

Not to mention scenes like, Kai looking into her room without her knowledge or consent

Or Kai fighting people for her when it’s not necessary

Or him trying to impress her everytime he sees her

This isn’t cute or funny, it’s gross, privacy invading, and overall just very creepy and uncomfortable and most definitely not healthy

Again, this is REALLY out of character for Kai, Kai knows when to back off and respect people’s privacy

Literally the season before this he didn’t get involved in the love triangle probably because he knew that would make Nya’s situation worse

So for him to suddenly become this privacy evading perv is so grossly out of character for him and makes the whole relationship feel off and unhealthy

And finally

4. The whole thing is misogynistic

During this entire thing skylor doesn’t get a choice in the show once, she follows the commands of her dad before Kai tells her not to like her dad and follows his lead.

She doesn’t come to disliking her dad by her own thought, she was told to by Kai

She doesn’t get to do anything that SHE actually wants to do until LITERALLY the VERY END

She’s told by guys around her what she should do constantly, even without her being a love interest that’s just screams misogynistic to me ((Afab speaking anyways))

Everything about her character, down to the way she talks, who she’s allied with, and even sometimes how she looks is determined by male characters

Conclusion

If canon ships were shrek movies then kailor is easily shrek the third, a constant tired unfunny mess that caused everyone to think that these ships were shit ((to be fair Jaya is kinda bad to but at least it tired to get better))

There’s nothing redeeming about it to me, every time it’s viewed in a romantic setting it makes me groan or upset

What’s even more frustrating is how people constantly say lava can’t be canon because of it

Im going to go on a side tangent so you can just skip this part as it doesn’t add any actual substance to my argument

But it’s so frustrating to see people say that

Cole and Kai have had a much healthier relationship and would be a lot better for there characters

But no, this stupid misogynistic creepy ship where one side isn’t even consententing to it half the time is the one that has to stay canon because “it’s what the creators intended”

Lava isn’t the superior possibly canon relationship because it’s gay, it’s superior because it’s closer to a healthy working relationship in show then kailor has been ((fanon lava and kailor doesn’t count here because they’re isn’t any better fanon ship, Im just talking about in show))

But no it can’t be canon and it’s unfair for people to want it to be canon because tommy created this rlly shitty straight relationship for Kai instead

TLDR; fuck kailor

#ninjago #kai smith #ninjago kai #long post

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

The tit for tat game was well known to both of their top confidants and lieutenants because it had been going on ever since Natsu and Lucy broke up. Plus, it was hard to get around such knowledge considering most of them came from the same neighborhoods. These intrigues ebbed and flowed like waves. Months could pass by without any interactions between the two, at other times they’d go back and forth continuously until one of them finally gave up, and on the odd occasion ended in a huge fight that led to another round of ignoring each other. Up until now, it had been kind of amusing to watch them torture each other because it was better than a drama shows on television. But that didn’t mean Natsu, and Lucy’s friends didn’t worry about one or both being truly hurt one day because of it.

“It’s fine,” Natsu rolled his eyes as Gray chastised him after the soapland incident. The two men were at Natsu’s home after work hours and supposed to be relaxing. But clearly his friend didn’t want to drop the subject. “What’s the big deal?”

“Dude, you let yourself be blindfolded in a public space! Have you forgotten what kind of business we’re in? What if it had been an assassin instead?”

“Oh, that’s just ridiculous. We’re talking about Lucy’s company, and I trust their security measures because she has just as much to lose if a hit took place there.”

“Still, you should be more careful, at least take a bodyguard with you…”

Natsu’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. “And what, so they can watch the show? We got any voyeurs on the payroll? Cause I can’t think of anyone here who’d wanna see another guy getting his balls fondled!”

Gray ran a hand down his face. “So not the mental image I wanted. You’re missing the point.” He sighed. “Natsu you are the head of this clan, and your safety is my top priority.”

“I get it, I get it,” Natsu drawled.

“And frankly,” Gray continued, “you’ve become distracted by her lately.”

“Tch! No, I haven’t!”

“Yeah, you are. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you drive by her place sometimes. I know you’ve followed her to that coffee shop she likes to frequent. But ever since her employee was robbed, things have escalated again.”

“You’re imagining things and apparently spying on me. I’m just keeping an eye on the competition.”

“Watching over you is my job! That’s not spying.” Gray crossed his arms. “And oh, it’s no doubt that you’re keeping an eye on her. That’s why you went to Katsunuma’s party and to soapland too. The problem is you’re getting sloppy and sloppy gets people killed.”

Natsu groaned. “Are you done yet? We’re supposed to be enjoying the baseball game, not psychoanalyzing my life.”

“Almost.” Gray placed a hand on his friends’ knee and leaned in. “Natsu, you’ve been chasing that tail since high school, just lock her down and convince her to work together already.”

Natsu snorted a laugh. “Gray we all grew up together, so what in all these years makes you think that’s a possibility? You know damn well Lucy’s not a woman you can control without her consent.” Natsu knew that, and frankly he loved that part of her. In fact, it made him even more fired up whenever he thought about it, just like a treasure you don’t just find but must win at the end of a game. “I’ll find a way, some day.”

“Well until that day arrives, could you promise me you’ll be more cautious?”

“Fine, fine,” Natsu waved his hand. “I’ll back off of Lucy for now.”

“Good.” Gray relaxed back onto his recliner thinking the drama was over.

“However, there is a new guy I want surveillance placed on.”

“Who?”

“The bartender from the party.”

Gray groaned. “Seriously? Why? He’s just a bartender!”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Was he spiking the drinks or something? Dealing drugs at the party?”

“Maybe.”

Gray huffed. “You really gonna try that? Do I look like an idiot? This is just straight jealousy talking.”

“I don’t care! I want someone to dig up what they can on the guy!”

“No, what you wanna know is if he fucked Lucy that night!”

Natsu jumped up with his fists clenched. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!” Gray stood up and matched his boss’s energy. “Unless you give me a damn good reason to check into him, I’m not wasting my guy’s time! You might be the boss, but don’t you fucking forget who you’re talking to! I’m not some punk off the streets!”

Realizing he was taking things too far, Natsu sat back down. “Sorry.”

Gray sighed and plopped back down too. “I only joined because you asked me to and you’re my best friend, then I helped you build this new empire, so I’m just as invested in protecting it as you are. But Natsu, personal emotions have led to the downfall of many in this business, and as a friend, I’ll check you any time I think you’re going to far.”

“You’re right…” Natsu sighed too. “She just gets me so worked up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gray laughed, but stopped when Natsu glared at him. “Sorry, it slipped out.”

“But I swear, there’s something suspicious about him. When he saw me, I thought he just reacted because he thought I was Lucy’s boyfriend or something, but the more I think about it, he might have recognized me.”

“Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious either.”

“True. But the look in his eyes just made me wonder.”

“Alright…” Gray groaned, “if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll have someone do some digging. So, you said he has orange hair and glasses, and the name on his tag was Loke?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s an unusual name, shouldn’t be too hard to check on.”

Over the course of a couple of weeks, Gray sent out feelers for any information on this Loke guy. Katsunuma junior gave them their first small lead that the bartender had worked the party through a local food catering company. That catering company was a legitimate business who had both full-time staff as well as independent contractors brought in per event as needed. Loke had been one of the latter. From there Gray obtained a last name, de Lioncourt.

According to his sources at the local precinct, Loke de Lioncourt had no rap sheet, no prior dealings with police, and for all they knew was an average citizen. The man’s Line blog profile listed him as a 28-year-old, Japanese/French American, model and bartender, and it was filled with pictures from events, parties, as well as many gorgeous women— none of which contained Lucy. But as Gray trolled through the man’s feed, he did come across one person he recognized and passed the information along to Natsu.

“Wow, she’s in a bunch of photos,” Natsu mumbled as he scrolled through the blog.

“Well, considering Cana’s reputation are you surprised. Parties and alcohol are the two things that woman lives for.” Gray laughed. “Now see, this makes sense to me. Lucy and him, not so much.”

“Tch… still pisses me off he even tried.”

“Lucy’s a free woman, she can go out with whoever she wants to.”

“We’ll see about that,” Natsu mumbled low.

“What was that?” Gray asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing.”

“Better be nothing, cause this is a dead end. He’s just a flirty bartender. It’s how they make tips.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Natsu sat back in his chair. “So, back to business. What this I heard about some missing stock?”

“Oh, right. One of the warehouse clerks noticed a shortage, but when I checked with Yura, he said the books were fine. I had him show it to me, and it appears the numbers were just inverted by accident. So, instead of 185 kilos, it’s supposed to be 158 kilos.”

“Did you talk to the clerk again? Does he have any history of messing up like this?”

“Nah, he’s one of our better clerks.”

“Just keep an eye on it.”

“Sure thing, boss. By the way, have you seen Gajeel today?” Gray questioned. “I haven’t seen him.”

“He called me this morning said he wasn’t feeling well, thinks he ate something bad for dinner last night.”

“Tch, seriously? Thought he had an iron stomach?”

Natsu shrugged. “Must’a been some bad sushi or something. We ain’t got much happening today, so it’s fine. Anything else? I got some stuff I need to finish.”

Gray tapped his chin. “Just a reminder you have an appointment with our tech guy dropping by later this week to go over some upgrades on the system.”

“Like I’m supposed to know anything about that stuff, it’s what I pay him for.”

“You still gotta approve it,” Gray shrugged and took his leave.

Once the man was completely out of the office, Natsu opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a nondescript box he’d hidden inside. He grinned to himself. It was time to make another special delivery. Even though he’d told Gray he was backing off the whole Lucy and Loke subject, there was no way he was gonna let it slide. Natsu didn’t care if the man seemed legit, and he wasn’t the first nor would probably be the last that he’d eventually scared away. And besides, being a Yakuza boss had a lot of down times too, easily filled with having a little fun.

Today’s little care package was being sent to Lucy by a courier service and Natsu just had to drop it off to the delivery company. Just a normal company like Kuroneko Yamato so it wouldn’t rouse too many suspicions. It was turning into a fun game for him just coming up with ideas of what he could do to rile Lucy up or irritate this Loke guy. Natsu chuckled to himself. So far, his favorite prank was a box of small sized condoms and a bottle of enhancement pills that he’d had delivered to Loke while on the job at another party. He’d even snuck in to watch it delivered, gaining a good laugh when the man took a peek in the box and frowned at its contents.

It was childish, but Natsu didn’t care. Every day for two weeks now, something new was sent to Loke. Random gifts like children’s candy to a toy gun, a big bottle of lubricant wrapped in a bow, a week’s worth of meals sent for lunch one day, even an empty box with rocks inside it just to drive the man crazy wondering who in the world was sending them. Lucy too wasn’t immune to his pranks, though hers had a different feel to them. Flowers with no note attached. Tickets to a canceled show he made up. A supposed dinner invite from Loke that wasn’t real— okay that was to test her, but she didn’t fall for it. And today’s little care package fit right into his prank scheme.

Natsu dropped off the package at a Kuroneko Yamato office with the address instructions already filled out and paid the company’s employee extra to keep their mouths shut. ‘She’s gonna kill me one day,’ he laughed to himself as he rode back to his office. ‘If it’s suffocation by her boobs it wouldn’t be a bad way to go!’

“Anymore stops sir?” The driver asked Natsu.

“Nope. Back to the office.”

He looked at his watch. The package should be arriving at Lucy’s office within the hour. Give or take another to open it, and by 4pm he would be receiving another phone call. Maybe he won’t answer it. Oh, that would piss her off even more! ‘Well, if she’d just take the hint...’

The afternoon was supposed to be mellow at headquarters that day. No shipments, and no appointments. But when Natsu got back, another general in the organization named Jellal Fernandez came to his office to inform him of a problem. One of the new local restaurants in their territory was refusing to cooperate and he wanted to know how Natsu wanted it handled. They were right in the middle of discussing it, when Natsu’s office door flew open with a loud bang!

In stomped Lucy who immediately threw a box at his head, causing Natsu to duck and Jellal to pull his gun.

“Don’t!” Natsu screamed at his general and motioned for him to stand down, to which the man complied. “Do you have a death wish Lucy!”

“Get. Out.” She snapped at the general. “Get out! This is between me and your boss!”

Jellal looked to Natsu, who nodded his head to scram. “I got this, don’t worry.” The man holstered his gun and left, but Natsu could see he’d stayed right outside of the now closed door.

“I take it you didn’t like the gift,” Natsu pretended to stay calm.

“Gee, me throwing it at you give you that impression? I know it’s you sending all these damn deliveries to me and Loke. That needs to stop now!”

He crossed his arms and scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Play dumb all you want. Just stop! Why are you even doing this?!”

“Take a guess,” he sneered back.

“I could’ve sworn we were adults now, but apparently I’m the only one who grew up. Stay out of my love life Natsu!”

“So, you admit you’re sleeping with the guy!”

“That’s none of your damn business! I can fuck whoever I want!”

“Not as long as I’m alive,” Natsu growled back.

Lucy crossed her arms. “That could be arranged.”

“Is that a threat?!”

“Yes! If you don’t stay out of my love life!”

“A woman shouldn’t be sleepi—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence!” Lucy grabbed a stapler that was within reach and chucked it at Natsu’s head. “Stop trying to control me!”

“Are you crazy?!”

At that moment, Gray barged into the room. He’d heard the screaming from the other side of the office, and when he got close enough to see Jellal standing outside the door, he became alarmed. Why would a general leave Natsu vulnerable! The man told him their boss told him to leave, but as the sounds inside escalated, Gray couldn’t wait anymore.

“Stop it!!” Gray got between them. “What are you two doing! Lucy you shouldn’t be here!”

“Then tell your damn boss to leave me the fuck alone!” Lucy spat back. “Ask him how he’s been harassing Loke and me!”

Gray turned to his boss with a groan. “Natsu, we talked about this!”

“Tell Gray what you been doing!” Lucy pressed. “Show him the stupid packages you send!”

“What packages?” Gray looked to Lucy, then repeated the question as he stared at his boss. “What packages?”

“Tch,” Natsu crossed his arms, “it’s not even that bad.”

Lucy stomped over to where the box fell and picked it up, pulling the contents out. “Bullshit!” She snapped as she held up a very racy, red nightie with flame prints, a pair of fluffy handcuffs, and a large dildo. “See this shit?!” Lucy shook the floppy latex toy at Gray before chucking it to the ground again. “He includes messages too,” then handed the man a folded piece of paper.

Gray read it aloud, “to make up for what playboy lacks. Had it custom made to my size wink wink. Ugh, seriously man,” he tossed the letter.

Natsu shrugged. “I was just having fun.”

“This is the yakuza, not a daycare!” Gray snaps. “I’m not here to babysit the boss so he stops harassing the competition! There’s more important business to worry about!”

“That’s right listen to Gray,” Lucy sneered.

Gray turned to her. “Oh, you ain’t innocent either, so don’t even try it. You both do things to purposely rile the other up and get mad when there’s consequences. Stop it!” He looked back and forth between the two. “Just stop it already!”

Natsu and Lucy looked away from the man with scowls on their faces. Neither wanted to admit he was right.

“Jellal,” Gray called out. When the man entered, he instructed him to escort Lucy out of there. “Next time, just call me instead. It’s best you two just stay away from each other. Got it?!”

“Yeah,” Lucy grumped.

“Got it?!” Gray questioned his boss.

“Yeah,” Natsu mumbled.

“Fucking like high school,” Gray ran a hand down his face in irritation. “You two need therapy.”

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #ch 6 #we'll take back heaven #petri808