#both class names and skill names

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than tummies

Been thinking about plushies lately and wanted to make a set of fabric-themed Etrian Odyssey classes for playing as and fighting plushies

Scissorblade - A melee class that specializes in attack buffs and basic attacks, and wields limited elemental damage. Sharp Snip: Melee cut attack. Basic attacks guaranteed to crit next turn. Temper Blades: Increases physical damage and crit chance to one ally line for 3 turns. Double Attack: Passive. Gives a chance to make two basic attacks. Heated/Frosted/Static Edge: Increases physical damage and imbue basic attacks with fire/ice/volt to one ally line for 3 turns. Burning/Frigid/Voltic Cut: Melee cut+fire/ice/volt attack to one enemy line.

Ragstainer - A melee class specializing in ailments, with attacks that lower bind/ailment resistance and ailment attacks that can splash ailments. Rip Up: Melee cut attack. Lowers bind+ailment resistance for 3 turns. Mud Blot: Melee bash attack. Inflicts blind on all enemies in the row. Mud Splash: Inflicts blind on all enemies. On failure, reduces bind+ailment resistance for 3 turns. Bleach Bash: Melee bash attack. If the target has an ailment, remove it to greatly increase damage.

Night-Knight - A defensive melee class that can create extra HP in the form of padding and share it with allies to soak up damage. Fluff Up: Gain a large amount of padding. Auto Fluff: Passive. At start of combat, chance to use Fluff Up for free. Swaddle Ally: Gain some padding. One ally shares user's padding for 3 turns. Swaddle Line: Gain some padding. One ally line shares user's padding for 3 turns. Selfless Swaddle: Gain some padding. For 3 turns, all other party members share user's padding, but the user does not. Pillow Hammer: Melee bash attack. Spend all padding to increase damage proportional to padding spent. Nightfall Hammer: Melee bash attack. Stronger with less remaining HP.

Stitchstabber - A melee class with high speed that can use splash and piece attacks to stitch enemies together; when one enemy is hit by a single-target attack, all stitched enemies are hit. Side-Stitch: Melee stab attack that splashes to adjacent enemies. Hit enemies are stitched together. Straight-Stitch: Ranged stab attack that pierces enemy lines. Hit enemies are stitched together. Rending Needle: Accurate melee stab attack that reduces the target's evasion and physical defense this turn. Painful Needle: Melee stab attack that reduces the target's accuracy and physical attack this turn. Sever Life: Remove stitches to make a powerful ranged cut attack on all stitched enemies with a chance to instant-kill.

Laundromancer - A melee/support class with damage and healing skills that purge buffs/debuffs to increase potency. Dry Out: Melee fire attack that purges a buff and a debuff. If a debuff was removed, increase damage. Wring Out: Melee bash attack that purges all buffs and debuffs. Increase damage for each debuff removed. Soak: Heal an ally and purge a buff and a debuff. If a buff was removed, increase healing and restore TP. Wash Away: Heal a line of allies and purge a buff and a debuff. Increase healing and restore TP to each ally that lost a buff. Good as New: Revive a dead ally and restore a large amount of HP. Spin Cycle: Ranged ice attack to all enemies that purges all buffs and debuffs. Increase damage to all enemies for each debuff removed.

Threadspinner - A ranged class that can strike and bind enemy lines with lashes of thread, or throw needles that hit bound enemies extra hard. Head/Arm/Leg Lash: Ranged cut attack to an enemy line. Binds head/arms/legs. Coiling Lash: Ranged cut attack. Binds head+arms+legs. Piercing Needle: Ranged stab attack that pierces enemy lines. Increased damage to bound enemies. Vicious Needle: Ranged stab attack. Increased damage for each bind on the target. Needle Rain: 8 ranged stab attacks to random enemies. Cannot hit the same enemy more than three times. Increased damage to bound enemies.

Dyesplasher - A ranged class wielding elements, buffs/debuffs, and ailments, giving it a versatile and flexible toolkit. Red/Blue/Yellow Splat: Ranged fire/ice/volt attack. Inflict panic/poison/paralysis. Red/Blue/Yellow Wave: Ranged fire/ice/volt attack to all enemies. Color Cloak: Increases elemental defense to all allies. Red Ruin/Blue Blues/Yellow Yelp: Reduce fire/ice/volt resistance and physical attack/elemental attack/bind+ailment rate to an enemy line for 3 turns. Rainbow Mixture: For 3 turns, increase an ally's elemental damage and ailment rate, and make fire, ice, or volt attacks become fire+ice+volt. (note: due to the way damage types work in Etrian Odyssey, more elements is always better)

Plushstuffer - A ranged/support class that uses builds up stuffing as it uses basic skills, then uses it for powerful plushie skills. Cotton Catapult: Ranged elementless attack. Get 1 stuffing. Unwind/Pluck Off: Remove a bind/ailment from an ally and restore a small amoung of HP. Get 1 stuffing. Tiger Plushie: Spend all stuffing (max 3) to make 5 ranged bash attacks against random enemies. Cannot hit the same enemy more than twice. Increased damage with more stuffing. Frog Plushie: Spend all stuffing (max 3) to heal all allies and remove binds/ailments. Increased healing with more stuffing. Unicorn Plushie: Spend all stuffing (max 3) to attempt to revive/heal all allies. Increased chance with more stuffing, 100% at 3.

Outfitter - A support class with a wide arsenal of buff skills, which can be spread to buff multiple allies or combined to use multiple on one ally. Can also steal enemy buffs and bind them with restrictive clothing. Daring Clothes: Unlocks the Phys/Elem Attack, Act Speed, and Bind+Ailment Rate clothing skills. Practical Clothes: Unlocks the Phys/Elem Defense, Endure Chance, and Bind+Ailment Res clothing skills. Comfortable Clothes: Unlocks the Regeneration, TP Discount, and Accuracy+Evasion clothing skills. Fashion Line: Use a clothing skill on an ally line. Mass Production: Use a clothing skill on all allies. Custom Fit: Combine two clothing skills into 1 buff on an ally, then double the duration of that buff. Bespoke Garb: Combine three clothing skills into 1 buff on an ally. Catwalk Showoff: This turn, buffed allies deal more damage. Flattery: Steal a buff from an enemy and give it to all allies. Mask/Mittens/Heels: Inflict head/arm/leg bind on an enemy.

Patchmender - A support class with healing and cure skills that apply patches to allies, boosting their stats or negating binds/ailments. Athletic Patch: Heal an ally and boost their phys/elem attack for 3 turns. Athletic Mending: Heal a line of allies and boost their phys/elem attack for 3 turns. Reinforced Patch: Heal an ally and boost their phys/elem defense for 3 turns. Aromatic Patch: Heal an ally and give them regeneration for 3 turns. Patched Tear: Revive a dead ally and give them a chance to endure death once in the next 3 turns. Mended Knot/Stain: Remove a bind/ailment from a line of allies and negate the next bind/ailment they would receive in the next 3 turns.

#asks #the skills given are just a handful of examples #if they were real they'd have a bunch more #as usual the hardest part was the names lol #both class names and skill names #except for the Outfitter. that one was super easy and fun #also to explain Rainbow Mixture making elemental attacks have all elements: #if an attack has multiple elements the game uses the one that the target is weakest to #so that means that if you want to poison an enemy with Blue Splat but it's immune to ice you can make it fire+ice+volt to still deal damage #and if it's weak to fire then it'll take weakness damage even though it's immune to ice! #also Etrian Odyssey combat has a front line and a back line so that's what the “ally line” “pierces enemy lines” stuff is about #also binds are a really neat mechanic: each skill requires a certain body part (head/arm/leg) and if that part is bound you can't use it #so if the enemy is blasting you with powerful magic you can bind the head and they'll waste their turns trying and failing to cast spells #leg bind is the least useful bind tho because barely any skills use legs lol #it does negate enemy evasion tho! #i'm proud that i managed to make a full 10 because that's the amount that normal EO games have #though i'm just now realizing i want the thimbleknight to be blanket-themed instead #okay i changed it now it's the bedding-themed night-knight and all the skills are the same just with different flavor #had to make sure my love of blankets was sufficiently represented #ALSO i made Nightfall Hammer because you can have low HP but lots of padding so you're safe and i think that's neat #also also i'm just proud of some of the mechanics i made like padding and stitches because they're unique #i'm glad i was able to come up with enough ideas to not just be copying classes from the games

[malin-la]

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL EPISODE 6

“I wouldn’t forget a bad bitch like you, it’s why I named you after the best thing ever, Vaggie.”

“Actually it’s pronounced Vaggie”

It’s such a ridiculous line that’s meant to be taken as a joke but it implies so much about the way heaven operates.

Hell is composed of two large groups: the hell-born, and the sinners. With all the questions posed in episode 6, it’s kind of hard to place how the other side works or how people even get into heaven, but the line above helps place them into one of two systems

1. There are no “heaven-born” angels, there are only those who have been saved after their Earthly death. While this theory seems less likely, it is solidified when Sera calls Adam “the first to enter heaven” and not just “the first man” in the courthouse scene.

If this were the truth, Adam naming Vaggie would have some pretty screwed up implications such as heaven completely stripping human souls of their previous identities to better fit whatever role they need to play “for the greater good of all angels”

2. The second theory is that, much like Hell, Heaven has both earthly souls that have ascended and heaven-born angels that hold higher rank. This theory is also pretty solidified by the presence of a clear defined ranking system in the angels that seems to have more to do with bloodline (Emily and Sera) that with deserved power being passed down.

If this were the truth though, that would mean that some heaven-born angels were created (spawned? born?) simply to serve as exorcists. Kind of like the “guard class” of bees in a hive that are already born with the attack skills and genetics they need to defend their Queen. That would be why Adam named Vaggie, because working as an exorcist would be all she’d ever known at the time.

TLDR: it’s fucked up no matter how you look at it

#this is such a long post #I hope people see it though #this kind of just came to me in a flash and I had to figure out how to turn my thoughts into words #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part one)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

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At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.

But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

part two

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#if you saw me posting a new series in the middle of another one no you didn’t #ANOTHER COLLEGE AU BECAUSE THEY OWN ME #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fanfic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

[itsbuckytm]

Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow

summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.

I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!

How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you. 

You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse. 

During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal. 

You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay. 

After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.

You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time. 

Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it. 

Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual. 

The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right. 

When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out. 

Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes. 

He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that." 

"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is. 

You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along. 

Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies. 

The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year. 

According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you. 

Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers. 

The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers. 

It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered. 

True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red. 

Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!" 

Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance. 

The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to." 

That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.

"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."

Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident. 

By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving. 

On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say. 

How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon. 

"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.

"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."

"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere. 

"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning. 

And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem. 

Y/N, Snow.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #coryo #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagines #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader

[kaibutsushidousha]

Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024

Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.

My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?

Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.

Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.

Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.

Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.

Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.

Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.

Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.

Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.

No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.

#kokichi ouma #kaede akamatsu #kirumi toujou #himiko yumeno #maki harukawa #tenko chabashira #tsumugi shirogane #angie yonaga #miu iruma

[zeldasnotes]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 33

masterlist

• People with Sun in the 8th house or aspecting Pluto might have been saved from situations because of their fathers name. For example might be threathened then the people find who your father is and apologizes.

• If you ask someone whats the worst thing someone ever said to them it will probably be something related to their Chiron placement. Because A when people touch our Chiron wound we remember it forever and B for some damn reason people seem to always touch where you have your Chiron wound bc its kinda obvious to others.

• If you have 10th house placements you have a trademark after your name, whatever you do you easily become known for it. People want to put a label on you and the themes of the planet you have there is the label thats most easily put. So when you have 10th house planets its extra important to think before you act.

• If you have Lilith conjunct North Node you need to learn to do your own thing. Ive seen people with this who didnt reach their potential until they refused to stop trying to fit in and be ”normal” . You are a class of your own. People will respond to you differently when you act like Lilith. Example: A rapper in my country have this placement in Virgo and was treated bad by other rappers bc of a beef he had on the streets and bla bla. Anyways he knew he wouldnt get collabs bc of this so he made it ”his” thing to never have a feature on his songs and to never do interviews and be on other rappers tracks. After this people started respecting him more. He used his inability to fit in to make himself look even better.

• Venus/Neptune involve their love interest in their art. A lot of rappers with this might want to have their partner on their albumcover, in their music video, paint their partner etc. Dating a man with this placement feels like being his muse.

• Be careful when you have Venus in Leo in the Solar Return Chart because this one can really make you want to SPLURGE. Especially clothes, bags and stuff that makes you look good. 💰🛒🛍️💸

• Talking to someone with a Mercury/Pluto or Mercury/Nessus placement can feel like being interrogated. Constant checking if you are lying, asking extra questions to see if you change your story, detailed questions to see if your story is true. Can be very exhausting to be around bc of this (sorry).

• Every Aquarius Rising Ive met looked better in person than on pictures. There is a striking quality that the camera have a hard time capturing. Same with Virgo and Pisces Rising.

• People with Jupiter conjunct personal planets are funnier when they are not trying than when they try to be funny.

• Nanisca the role played by Viola Davis in the movie ”Woman King” reminds me of Sun conjunct Lilith.

• People with Ceres(1) conjunct personal planets seem to not like adornment.

• Aura(1488) conjunct Mercury might come across as sneaky.

• Venus in the 8th house or Venus aspecting Pluto attracts people who would normally not want them which is why they need to be extra careful. They might be super tall and attract someone who usually only go for short people or vice versa. But because of the intense magnetism that having a plutonian venus gives everyone wants a taste of you no matter if they really WANT you or not. Be wary of who you share your energy with.

• Venus Square MC might feel like their looks and social skills doesnt match the career they want or how they want the public to see them.

• Juno(3) or Venus Square Mars are the kind of people to have a huge difference in taste when it comes to who they want to sleep with and who they see as relationship material.

• If you have Lilith in the 7th house or Lilith conjunct Venus your ex's new partners might become obsessed with you or you become obsessed with your partners ex's.

• Dejanira(157) conjunct Ascendant is probably the scariest synastry aspect Ive ever experienced. Experienced it 2 times and both times I was Ascendant and he was Dejanira. Very scary attacks. I can even look at pictures of these people.

• Mars conjunct MC can mean a lot of people are scared of you. A very intimidating placement. In a mans chart it makes other men look up to him. Women with this placement seem too struggle with this placement a lot tho since people are more likely to want to challenge a woman who comes across as intimidating.

• Scorpio Moons seem to be very fascinated with psychopaths.

• Sag Moons might have had extremely carefree parents. Thats why these people can be so good on their own, they raised themselves. But its also why they flee from issues because they were never forced to stay and solve stuff like in a normal family.

• Cancer Risings can be really intimidating, especially the eyes. Ive mistaken so many Cancer Risings for being Scorpio Risings.

• Populus(8647) conjunct Mercury might be more popular among younger people.

• Lilith in a womans chart seem to show what archetype she finds empowering and might even want to be and in a mans chart an archetype he finds fascinating. Ex. Lilith 2nd/8th: the golddigger femme fatale, black widow. Lilith 4th house: The family matriarch, Evil Stepmom. Lilith 10th house: The boss, the businesswoman, cold bitch. Lilith 7th house: The homewrecker, femme fatale, beauty queen, homecoming queen, Mr steal yo girl. (Not always ofc and mostly this goes for when you are underdeveloped)

©️ 2024 Zeldas Notes All Rights Reserved

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #lilith #birth chart readings #ascendant #lilith aspects

[flamingpudding]

Studen exchange program, no thank you.

If you ask Danny, he could give you a ton of reasons why a student exchange program with an apparently high class school was a bad idea for Casper High to do and why it was even worse that somehow Danny had been volunteered for it. Ancients even Lancer was stressing how much of a bad idea it was to sent Danny Fenton to Gotham Academy.

Though Danny knew it was all the stupid fruitloops fault. Vlad wanted him out of town for something. Both Tucker and Sam had notified him about something brewing in Amity and Danny needed to get back asap. So Danny did what he could do best, cause a mess in the best Fenton manner that he could that would make Lancer faint if the man knew. In his defense, the man had tried to prevent this, but no one listened. Now Gotham Academy was dealing with a Fenton level mess and because Danny wanted to get kicked out of the Student exchange program to get back to Amity.

He did however not expect to be sent to the principle office and to be given a 'second chance' since what he did was not as bad as some of the other things Gotham students apparently can come up with.

Well, he also did not expect that his muttering, ramblings, and loud thinking were getting overheard by another student who apparently got sent to the office for attempting to stab a fellow student. Said student then continued to pester Danny the following days 'investigating' him.

Seriously all Danny wanted was to get kicked out of the student exchange and to stop whatever Vlad was doing in Amity but now he got one Damian Wayne pestering him with his weird social skills and constant threats of stabbing him if he doesn't answer questions.

And why in the name of Acients was he getting late night wellfair checks from furries?!

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #damian wayne #student exchange au #vlad plasmius #danny just wants to get home #damien is suspicious #he is very reasonable with his questioning #as long as you answer #if not he might be stabby #Danny is just done with Gotham #i need more sleep but brain says no and gives me these ideas #fanfic #dcxdp #prompt idea #dc x dp prompt

[omitea]

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

. ft. highschool! gojo

. content. fluffity fluff fluff.

. note. he’s such an idiot i love him. tried my best lol.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is known as the cocky boy who also doesn’t know how to hold his tongue, but when he sees you for the first time— his façade comes crumbling down along with the ounces that are known as his communication skills.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who thinks he has a chance with you because according to him, he’s very much likable and you must be insane if you were to turn him down.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who follows you around school like a sad little puppy that has been abandoned in a dark alley. and you can practically see his tail wagging when you two share small interactions, even though most of them consist of him trying lame pick up lines which results in him almost getting knocked behind the head.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who you convince yourself of that you dislike, despite all the times you spend together. either during classes, lunch, hangouts with shoko and suguru or missions you’re both assigned to. he’s like a solar pannel that has been installed, slowly but rapidly sucking the remaining energy out of you as if you’re the sun.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who likes to make snarky remarks and tease you, not knowing he’s slightly being ignorant towards you as a person and your feelings. so you try to create the most distance possible, leaving him in desperation for your presence.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who embarrassingly begs shoko and suguru to talk to you. he suggests nothing but all ridiculous plans to have you finally come talk to him— and surprisingly it worked. having them to panically call you over and your worried expression quickly turned into one of disappointment. seeing satoru laying on the floor with a hand placed above his heart, whining how bad you’ve hurt him. you can’t deny that you found his dramatics amusing.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who you tell about the way you’ve been feeling regards of the way he acted towards you. his eyebrows raise in realization and he stumbles on his endless words of apologies. if you hadn’t stopped him, he basically would’ve bowed down at your feet for mercy.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who loves being able to touch you; either a lanky arm thrown around you, knees touching when he insisted on taking the seat next to you on the train or his favorite, hugging you. even though it’s only when you seek comfort, he can’t help but be selfish and enjoy these acts of services once in a while.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is so obvious with his feelings towards you, that it makes you notice the subtle ticklish feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach whenever you hear a simple thing such as the mention of his name. you’ve tried multiple times to push those feelings down, but they seem to rise higher and higher as time goes by.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who has been quiet for a while now, leaving you wondering in concern. you tried to figure it out, but it wasn’t possible when he was avoiding you in all the ways possible. he hasn’t even gossiped with you about the latest celebrity drama, something that formed like a habit between the both of you.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who runs up to you— panting and out of breath while he has his hands placed on his knees. between rushed breaths and a few coughs, he manages to tell you why he has been avoiding you and you laugh at the reason. for someone with a big ego, he sure is a coward when it comes to confessing.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who fails to hide the excitement in his teary blue eyes when you reciprocate your feelings and deciding to give him a chance. but you soon feel a pinch of regret when he ends up telling his friends and even yaga that the two of you are dating. he hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet. but that’s something for you to worry about later when he returns.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is now the man you’re married to and who hasn’t fully grown out of his idiotic characteristics. but you have come to terms with that fact the moment you decided to give him your all in 2006. trusting his promise back then and till now, when he said that he’d take care of the most precious thing in the world. your heart.

tags ! :: @white-poppie

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !

#—sinnie posts ♡ #☆ —jjk! #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo fluff #satoru fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader

[secretjeon]

Could you write something for SebastianxF!reader? Maybe later in their 7th year with Sebastian being jealous of all the boys interested in you. Him figuring out his feelings for you and maybe some kissing at the end 😳

ONLY YOU; SEBASTIAN SALLOW

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!reader

warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint, some arguing, jealousy, very quick slight suggestiveness, reader is seriously so desired by everyone its not even funny, fluff!!! not proofread!

word count: 1k+

a/n: first time writing for sebastian but it was so much fun im so excited!! for anyone who might want to request I write fluff, angst and smut so there's not really any limits. i don’t know how to write dialogue as a british person in the 1800s, so take it easy on me, but i hope u like it!! 🤍

comments/reblogs/likes are appreciateddd

He didn't know why he was so upset at the sight before him. You were currently sitting in your Defence Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for the professor to begin.

It wasn't just you at your table. There were also two boys, whose names you can't remember. They were both bragging about different things to you, one about Quidditch, the other about his amazing skills in Herbology.

It was a painful sight to watch, seeing as Sebastian was sat at the table just behind you. From where he was, he could very obviously tell they were trying to flirt with you. It bothered him deeply, why would these guys ever think they had a chance with you?

Smart, beautiful, perfect you. Things he all believed. Of course, he didn't think anything of it. Why wouldn't he acknowledge how beautiful you were? That was just simple human nature. But that didn't stop him from wondering why he was so bothered by the guys flirting with you.

He hated the thought of them doing anything with you. Talking with you, kissing you, touching you. The thought made his blood boil.

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Sebastian can recall the many times your chats were interrupted by another guy trying to take you on a date. Of course, you said no each time, but it wasn't any less annoying to him. He'd learned to refrain from rolling his eyes at this point, but still silently cursed the lads in his head.

"Alright, everyone! Take a seat." Professor Hecat spoke, allowing the two boys at your table to sit at their respective seats.

"Today, we are going to be doing something a little different. I want you to each partner up with someone, and then I will be explaining the rest." You immediately got up, about to go towards Sebastian when another boy got in your way, Liam, if you can remember correctly.

"Hey, Y/N, wanna partner up?" Sebastian couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes this time. You paused for a moment, trying to find a way to politely reject the boy.

"Erm, sorry... Liam, right? I'm afraid I've already partnered up with Sebastian." The brunette boy lit up at your words, suddenly feeling confident and looking at Liam with a smug face.

The other boy nodded with a tight lip smile, before leaving, defeated. You sat down next to Sebastian, who now had a bright smile on his face. "What are you all smiley about?" You teased.

"Nothing, let's listen for Professor Hecat's instructions, yeah?" Both you and him brushed it off, spending the rest of the class chatting up a storm and doing the assignment.

___

A few days have passed, and it just so happened to be Valentine's Day. You and Sebastian had gone to The Three Broomsticks to drink a butter beer together, as your own 'Galentine's Day', though you weren't sure if you could call it that because Sebastian wasn't a girl, but you were both single so the concept was the same.

You were sipping on your drink, enjoying each other's company when you see a guy who you recognize from your Charms class, someone whose tried to ask you out before, approach you.

"Y/N? It's Patrick, from Charms? I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna get a drink with me." This visibly angered Sebastian, his grip on his glass tightening, knuckles turning white. Before you could speak, Sebastian decided to tell Patrick a few words of his own.

"Don't you see that she's busy with me right now? And I don't know if it's clicked in that noggin of yours, but have you ever considered that maybe she's just not into you?" His voice was slightly raising at this point, but you couldn't help but find it attractive.

Patrick's eyes widened a little before backing up, muttering an apology and walking away. You turned to face Sebastian. "Why did you do that? You didn't even let me get a word in."

"Oh, please, Y/N, didn't you see how he was looking at you? It's like you were a chocolate frog and he was ready to eat you! Trust me, he's not the right guy for you." You quirked an eyebrow at his statement.

"Then who is?" You watched as he hesitated for a moment, before taking a sigh as if to prepare himself, and looked you in the eyes.

"I am," You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say at the sudden confession.

"Y/N, I'm not sure why I didn't come to this realization sooner, but I've fallen for you. Deeply. I mean, we've gone through everything together, and you're just so perfect. You're truly one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and I've never felt this way about anyone be-"

You cut him off by leaning forward and capturing his lips with your own, catching him off guard. He's thrown off at first, but quickly matches your rhythm with his own, your lips fitting together like puzzle pieces, sparks flying everywhere in the room.

The kiss is everything and more. With his mouth still on yours, he grabs your chair, pulling you in closer, before moving his hands to you, one on your face, holding your cheek, the other holding your hand.

You both break apart, breathless with stupid smiles on your faces. "I've been waiting forever for you to say that." You grab his hand with both of yours.

If it was possible, his smile got even wider at your words. "You have?" You nodded, figuring it was time to confess.

"You've given me absolute butterflies since the moment I met you, Sebastian. I had all but hoped that you felt the same way. Why do you think I've always rejected the guys that flirted with me?

It's because it's you. It's only been you." You lean in for another kiss before Sebastian suggests a real date, perfectly fitting the day. The two of you leave The Three Broomsticks, feeling happier than ever before.

#Sebastian sallow #Sebastian sallow x reader #Hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #harry potter #Sebastian sallow fanfiction #Sebastian sallow fluff #Harry Potter hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfic

[gallusrostromegalus]

You don't think matcha is tea????

Matcha isn't a Tea in my humble Opinion.

Matcha is an experience.

The year is 2009, the place is the University of Hawai'i at Manoa in Honolulu, and I am recovering from a still-undiagnosed disease that left me with a 100+ degree for over three weeks, extreme weight loss and permanent Brain Damage.  I have signed up for an introductory Art History class because I need an additional Humanities credit.

It's called "The History and Philosophy of the Japanese Tea Ceremony", and for a class I can only sort of remember, it stands out.

So I'm in professor Roberts' Japanese Tea Ceremony  class, looking and feeling like death warmed over, but I'm genuinely interested in the subject matter and show up to every class because I have nothing better to do, and ask questions and turn in my homework, even if neither are particularly coherent at times, and rapidly become his favorite student.  The thing I learned in public school was how to show up to events even if I don't want to, analyze tests and other written materials for patterns and charm educators by holding up my end of a conversation, skills that have served me in the modern world far more than learning actual course content would have.

The Tea Ceremony, historically, takes a good month to prepare and the entire evening to carry out- the guest list is curated to create social bonds and intellectual stimulation alike, a poem is composed for the season, and a seasonal flower arrangement created to decorate the space. When the guests arrive, they must all crawl through a small door to enter the tea garden, regardless of profession or rank.  Hands are ritually washed in spring water, and there is a slow processional walk through the garden, to admire the artistry of the landscaping, and the composition of seasonal elements to create this particular night of beauty.  The entire ceremony is about appreciating both the joy of existing right now, in this time and place, and the unification of the self and the universe and the endless cycles of nature. 

The guests arrive at the tea house and meet the Tea Master, who will be making the Matcha that evening. The guests are seated in particular order, the Most Revered Guest- sometimes a high-ranking official, sometimes a visiting scholar or artist- is seated closest to the Tea Master.  The Poem is read aloud.  The Flowers are admired.  The tools for making the Matcha are taken out, examined as objects of art, and their history told.  The matcha powder itself is taken out- the case examined, the cultivation of the tea discussed, and only then does the Tea Master make the Tea. 

Matcha is not brewed- it's a fine powder made of crushed green tea leaves, and the powder is whisked together with not-quite-boiling water in a bowl to create a much more substantial and flavorful drink.  This drink is presented to the Most Revered Guest first, who is expected to take a sip and, in a moment of Zen spiritual clarity, comment on its flavor and how all the elements of the tea, art, garden and season all complement each other, and perhaps offer some sort of philosophical statement.

At least,

That's how it's supposed to go.

About a month before the spring semester is over, Professor Roberts announces that he has a surprise for his class- a good friend of his, a Professional Tea Master, will be visiting Hawai'i, and has agreed to perform a Tea Ceremony for our class!  I am very excited. The other 10 people in class are varying levels of amiably confused to distressed by having to go to An Event (TM) for a grade, but agree. One of my classmates, an astrology hoe named Jessica, pointed out that with the 11 students, Professor Roberts, and the Tea Master, there will be 13 people present, which is basically inviting disaster.

"Jessica." Sighed Professor Roberts. "It's a Tea Ceremony. What disaster could happen?"

Despite Jessica's misgivings, Preparations for the ceremony went on.  We learned about Ikebana while deciding on the Ceremonial Bouquet and tried our hands at it with what Professor Robert could get at the grocery store for $12. We learned about calligraphy and different types of poetic compositions while making the Seasonal Poem, and stain the hell out of the classroom carpet learning the brush strokes.  We learn about different types of Matcha Bowl sculpting and glazing and we are not allowed to touch the demonstration bowls or the kiln because Professor Roberts was beginning to suspect that some of his students (me)  were suffering from coordination issues. I apply myself with zeal, if not necessarily talent.  I was, at the time, an Art Major, but my professors in the art department had been grading me on a secret "this bitch almost died last semester and is re-learning how to hold a pencil" curve, and boy howdy did I stumble and break leaves and splatter ink like it.

Despite my ongoing unmonitored recovery, Professor Roberts viewed my enthusiastic class participation with rose-colored glasses, and about a week before the ceremony we had a class where he brought out the used Kimonos and Obi and other forms of japanese dress he'd borrowed from the theater department so that we would be traditionally dressed(ish) and experience the ceremony authentically(ish).  While people were trying on clothes to see what would fit, he took me aside and told me he wanted me to be in the position of Most Revered Guest, the person who makes the zen statement upon which the entire event hinges.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked.

"You're the only person who doesn't fall asleep in class and you talked about how the flowers stagger their blooms to not compete for the bees- you're perfectly engaged and conscious of the seasons!" He said, blindly. "You will need different shoes though."  He indicated my flip-flops.  "I won't make you learn how to walk in Geta, but nothing with Heels. Ballet flats are fine."

"...These are the only shoes I own." I said.

Professor Roberts stared at me.

"-I used to have a pair of sneakers but I think a homeless guy stole them while I was at the beach last month."

"What?" Roberts blinked.

"He probably needed them more than I do. I'll see if I can borrow some flats."

"...I don't think I've ever met a woman with less than 10 pairs of shoes."  Said Roberts.

"I'm not a woman, I'm and undergrad." I said, still three years away from learning the term 'Nonbinary'.  "Those are Jordan's only pair of shorts, you know." I pointed at my classmate, who had been wearing the one (1) pair of basketball shorts for the entire semester.

"I WASH THEM." Jordan shouted defensively, wearing the longest Men's Kinmo the theater department had, which barely came down to the top of his calves.

"Oh God." Said Roberts, a horrifying new world opening up to him like a tub of Expired sour cream.

*

It was the day of the Ceremony.

The Seasonal Theme we'd worked on was "The Turn Of Summer", and the weather was complying maliciously. 

Normally, Tea Ceremonies are scheduled for the more temperate evening, but due to the school needing to host something in the adjoining cultural center later, we could only use the Tea Garden in the middle of the afternoon, and the summer sun was a sweltering 98 degrees and a similar level of Humidity.  The Camelias were melting.

Where Jordan had difficulty finding a Kimono that suited his ent-like proportions, I'd had the opposite problem and the only Kimono short enough to not trip my Hobbit-sized self was a Child’s size.  My roommate had helped me get into the Kimono and Obi before the ceremony, and leant me a pair of her Ballet Flats, but we discovered an issue- this Kimono was designed for a flat-chested prepubescent youth, and even though I barely scraped 5'0", I had the robust proportions of an Irish Peasant, and the only way to avoid displaying a frankly offensive amount of cleavage was to use the widest Obi we could find and sort of tuck my boobs into it. 

"Hm" I said. "Kind of hard to breathe."

"Yeah, but you're sitting for most of it, right?  It can't last more than an hour, so just like, shuffle and don't talk much?"  She suggested.

To her credit, the first forty-five minutes of the ceremony only involved shuffling through the gardens and not talking while the Tea Master lectured us on some of the finer points of the garden's design. 

But then we got to the Tea House- a small structure only barely able to accommodate the 13 of us, which was in the shade but hotter than the outside because of the roaring fire in the middle of the room, where the water for the Matcha was boiling.  The room was surrounded by a narrow sort of porch, part of which hung over the Koi pond, where several massively overfed carp blurbled expectantly for treats at the arrival of humans. I sat down, legs folded under me like Professor Roberts had insisted, and realized that this pushed the Obi UP, and now my rib cage was being compressed in all directions.

I tried to pay attention to the rest of the ceremony, but two and a half hours is an awfully long time to listen about lecturers you've already heard when your body is undergoing a sort of internal horserace to see if the heatstroke, sciatica pain and numbness, allergies or suffocation-by-compression will cause you to pass out first.  My legs had gone numb below the knee by the time we were done with the flower arrangement.  My entire legs were numb before we were done with the Poem.  By the time the Tea Utensils came out, I was seeing spots of colored light in my vision and could only breathe if I focused on it very, very hard.

But! The ceremony was genuinely interesting! and Professor Roberts was counting on me!  So I did my best not to sway or throw up from watching the Tea Master whisk the Matcha, and dutifully took the bowl with a pair of hands that felt like slabs of ham that I was attempting to puppet from another dimension, and took a sip.

They say that Smell and Taste are far more closely connected to the emotional centers of the brain than any other sense, and I believe it because the instant I inhaled both the grassy, powdery smell, and tasted the moderately viscous bubbly liquid, I experienced an intense flashbulb memory back to a previous late May-

The Year was '98, the place was my elementary school art room, and we'd been using the seasonal hot weather to paint on a massive scale as the art dried quickly- each third-grader had been given a roll of butcher paper, a cheap brush, squirts of non-toxic paint and a water cup, and allowed to go hog-wild on our murals, and the rush of creative energy and the imminent sense of freedom as the semester drew to a close truly embodied the summer of youth, carefree but with an almost psychotic fervor, where lack of care was both freeing and dangerous as you lost track of your surroundings in the act of creation-

Which isn't a bad seasonal-philosophical connection statement to make, but the actual words that came out of my mouth were:



"Wow. This tastes exactly like paint."



The first sound I heard after the moment of silence was the cartoonishly loud gasp of horror from Professor Roberts, which was almost immediately drowned out by the thunderclap of laughter from the Tea Master, slapping his thighs and wiping tears from his face, unable to stop. I desperately tried to explain the connection between the fact I might be dying of heat stroke right now, and how I ended up drinking my paint water back in Mrs. Krantz's art class because back then I was also dying of heat stroke, but mostly ended up wheezing half-formed sentences as the rest of the class took sips and offered opinions varying between "Wow, that's thick. Like a Hot smoothie." and "Oh yeah, it tastes like summer. Like how a freshly-mowed lawn smells like summer." Professor Roberts slowly melted into a pile of shame, and the Tea Master slapped him on the back, still howling with laughter.

"They're honest! Nobody else will be honest!  This is magnificent!"  he wheezed.

Eventually, everyone had their taste, and the ceremony was concluded.  The second the Tea Master had packed up his tools and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Professor Roberts was in my face.

"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?" he hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "GO APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!"  he shoved me out onto the porch where the Tea Master was looking at the Koi, who had started bubble-begging aggressively again.

Except that my legs felt like blocks of wood that my pelvis was renting from another planet where legs hadn’t been invented yet, my vision was entirely static between the dehydration and lack of oxygen, and my vestibuar system had fucked off an hour ago, leaving me to stay upright by purely by the virtue of the over-tightened Obi.  So instead of bowing and apologizing profusely like my professor expected, what I actually did was stumble out of the room, say something like "Hsdfkf" and topple head-first into the koi pond.

Fortunately, the impact of the bottom of the pond with the top of my skull activated a sort of last-resort emergency self preservation system and I inhaled with enough force to break the Obi-Jime and probably a couple ribs from the pain that hit both my sides like lightning.  Unfortunately, the thing I was inhaling was fish-shit riddled Pond Water, so my emergency self-preservation system ordered an even harder Exhale. 

The Tea Master, to his immense credit, had immediately jumped in after me, and pulled me upright just in time for me to forcibly exhale half a gallon of rancid pond water directly into his face, then start screaming.  Screaming is an extremely appropriate reaction to have when injured, because it alerts everyone that you require medical attention, but is very unpleasant to experience from four inches away, which is probably why he then immediately dropped me.

Fortunately the pond wasn't very deep and this time I sat there, scream-gasping as my lungs reinflated, Koi fish burbling and sucking at me with tremendous excitement, until the EMT from the campus clinic arrived, a vanguard before the actual ambulance.

"Okay uh. You're bleeding." he said, cautiously wading into the pond.

I opened my eyes to find that I had apparently acquired a large and profusely bleeding head wound, which had activated some long-suppressed Shark Instincts in the Koi, which were eagerly gumming at the streams of blood and trying to suck on my forehead. "Good thing they don’t have teeth." I said in the distant bliss that only zen masters and people with serious head injuries get to experience.

"Do you want a towel?" he asked, helping me up.

"No, this is rather refreshing, actually." I said, still absolutely smashed on endorphins, Koi still enthusiastically swarming at my kneecaps.

"I mean like for your-"  the EMT Gestured Vaguely at my torso.

I looked down and realized that not only had I broken the Obi-jime, the entire Obi had come undone and was floating several feet away, and I was only wearing the Kimono, fallen completely off my shoulders and was only being prevented from performing a full Lady Godiva by the valiant efforts of the safety pin my roommate had put in to keep it folded correctly while we figured out the Obi.

"Professor Roberts?" I stood up all the way, soaking wet, bleeding from my forehead with such force as to create actual streams of blood down my face, neck and chest, tits out, and addressed the poor man standing, white-faced on the deck above the pond.  "I don't think I'm going to be in class on Monday-" I paused to fish a small Koi that had gotten trapped in the remains of the now-ruined Kimono, and tossed it back into the pond. "-Can I schedule a make-up exam for the Final?"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET IN THE AMBULANCE!" He screamed.

I was x-rayed for a skull fracture, but my lifelong membership to the Lactose Tolerance Club had protected me, and I happily texted my roommate to come pick me up as "They x-rayed my head and found nothing" while the doctor stitched part of my scalp back together.

The following morning, I discovered that Professor Roberts had graded my exam before I took it.  100%. Truly, the best way to get a good grade on your finals is to get a serious head injury.



So, Matcha is not a Tea, in my humble opinion.

Matcha is an Experience.

And sometimes that experience is drinking something almost exactly like paint, ruining an important cultural ceremony, traumatizing your professor,  and introducing a bunch of fish to the taste of human flesh.



***

If this made you laugh, there are more funny stories on My Patreon, or you can help support me by tipping my Ko-Fi. Thank You.

#Family Lore #Tea Ceremony #Matcha #injury mention #blood mention

[ikiprian]

Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

#she does end up sending tucker a PC lol #and after she learns he has experience supporting a superhero team maybe pushes his name forward to WEs outreach program for r&d potentials #picks him up by the scruff and says MY coding buddy #also fun fact she had a phd in library science at one point. i like that about her i think we should talk about it a little more #also tucker was making a ghost reporting & tracking app for amity parkers #dpxdc #dcxdp #barbara gordon #tucker foley #prompt #kipwrite

[umwillow]

theodore nott the peoples princess nsfw hcs🙏 🍝🍝

he won the vote by A LOT so here we go

• hes so skilled with his fingers it’s actually intriguing. like he’s just so good with them. pasta boy is fingering you 24/7 he just loves how you feel around his fingers and relishes in the way you squirm.

• his hands are SO BIG like another part i can think of, um homeboy just has humongous hands. we don’t know if it’s like hereditary or what he just has abnormally large hands. now, this has a lot of pros. thinking about how he wraps his hands around your waist when making out, or will cradle your head with both hands is making me feral😺

• i feel like he’s one of those guys who doesn’t realize how big he is and how much he affects you until you’re pulling him away from class to make out. he’s just so clueless and can’t read the room😭😭

• hes such a switch. he’ll be begging and whining for your attention and will try to get dominant to annoy you until you snap and full on top him. he thinks you’re a goddess. like he’s actually convinced you were like sculpted by angels for him specifically. worships you.

• has a mommy kink. for sure. like he just gets so overwhelmed with the pleasure and doesn’t notice himself mumbling incoherent phrases until you ask him to speak up and he just explodes and whimpers out your name.

• now, when he’s dominant he’s more of a soft dom, he needs to praise you and make you feel loved and needed. like he just spends 20 minutes with his face in between your legs because he needs to show you how perfect you are.

• calls you bella and cara mia🤭 his accent is so strong and adorable and makes it extra sexy when he dirty talks (sometimes in italian). he will be so turned on if you learned some italian to say during freaky time.

• he needs praise too. he’s so afraid of messing up and needs your reassurance that he’s doing well

• will arch his back if you put your hands up his shirt while kissing. (omg)

i might do a part 2 for all of them tbh but here you go bbys mother has fed you today😘😘😘

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott smut #slytherin #slytherin boys

[astridthevalkyrie]

oh my god, bakugo's kind of my friend! | k. bakugo x reader

----> summary: You'd never dare tell anyone that he was your friend. You'd never be so bold. Katsuki agrees. He's definitely not your friend.

----> warnings: quirkless university au, video game violence, fluff n feelings

----> a/n: title blatantly stolen from the office—"oh my god, dwight's kind of my friend!"

----> word count: 2k

God, no, you’re not friends with Katsuki Bakugo.

No one is.

Yeah, okay, that’s not totally true. He’s sort of friends with Ochako, that’s how you met him. He’s actually fairly close to Izuku and Eijiro, his roommates. He tolerates Shoto, might even begrudgingly respect him. And he’s got some weird mutual-depression pact going on with Kyoka. 

But you’re not any of them. And you vehemently deny it when people ask, lest he, heaven forbid, think you’re going around telling people he likes you. You saw what happened to Neito last year when he, just once, said something about his friend Katsuki. You’re pretty sure it was the reason behind his switching majors, too, just to avoid being in the same classes with the terrifying blonde.

Sure, you’re in his apartment. Neito’s never stepped foot in here (aside from The Incident). And you’re well acquainted with the people he does clearly consider not-enemies. Earlier today, you and Momo had been out getting chips and soda for tonight. Just half an hour ago, you’d been playing blind karaoke with Eijiro, Izuku, and Ochako on Kyoka’s old laptop and mic that somehow both still had really good audio quality. Not to mention, you and Mina have had at least one class together every semester since you both started—she always races to slide into the chair next to you on every first day.

And you’re currently sitting on Katsuki’s couch, two feet away from Katsuki, playing a battle royale on Katsuki’s console.

“Behind the building,” he mutters, and you hum in acknowledgement, running to the spot he generously marked on the map.

It started a long while back. You and Denki had been playing some shitty racing game, and you’d very easily kicked his ass, leaving him groaning and flopping back onto Kyoka’s lap, where she offered no pity, rolling his head off with a light shove. As you were laughing at the display, Katsuki had taken Denki’s place on the floor, and all but demanded you pick up the controller once more.

(You’d won again. Terrified, you simply claimed that your controller must be broken before racing out of the room.

Imagine your surprise when, the next time you visited, he’d barked at you to assist him with a multiplayer, ordering a pouty Denki off the couch.)

You like playing, and you don’t have a console with as much storage back home, and you’re too broke to be buying multiple games anyways, so you don’t mind taking advantage of Katsuki’s appreciation for your skill. It’s usually a nice way to end the night, whether you and Ochako end up leaving or if you fall asleep right there on the couch.

Shivering, you bring your feet under the wool blanket you’d brought with you. You’re the only one who finds the apartment freezing. Everyone else typically sheds their extra layers, while you once hunted down Eijiro’s sock drawer to steal a pair of He-Man stockings for the night. 

“Up in the window,” you warn, at the same time he says, “Oi.”

Both of you meet each other’s gaze for a second in bewilderment, before rapidly turning your attention back to the TV. He dodges the shot from the window, and then continues.

“You been tellin’ people I hate you?”

“What?” Your hands almost drop the controller, but you regain control just quick enough to roll out of the way of a grenade. “No.”

“Kirishima said Tetsutetsu told him that Kendo told him that Tokage told her that you told her I hated you.”

If you weren’t nervous, you’d tell Katsuki you were surprised he even knew all those names. “I didn’t say that. I just said we weren’t friends.”

There’s an awfully long pause. You can still hear the sounds from the game, and the chatter of everyone else in the apartment—Hanta’s trying to rap?—but not a word from your couch partner. If it weren’t for the screen in front of you, you’d be nervously biting your nails or just full on escaping, honestly. Not that you’re scared of Katsuki, at least not more than one should be, but…

Well, the truth is you did see him as a friend. Or, screw it, as more than that, if those little arrhythmias you observed in yourself every time he would raise his hand in greeting when he passed you on campus were any indication. And you know it’s going to hurt—it already does—to hear him confirm the same thing that you told everyone when they asked. That you meant very little to him, in the long term.

“We’re not friends, huh?” he finally says, as more of an inquiry than you’d expected it to sound.

Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t stop staring straight ahead, spamming X to whack someone over the head with a bat. “Um. Are we?”

“Isn’t this your favorite game?” he shoots back, as though that answers your question.

“Yes? So?”

Another pause. You climb up to the roof of some building and emote pointlessly before hopping down and ducking behind a bush to heal. Katsuki lets out a mix of a sigh and a grunt, dashing across an abandoned minefield. 

“So,” he snarks, “I only bought it after you told me it was your favorite.”

Faintly, you feel the tips of your ears grow hot. Is that true? That can’t be true, can it? The timing does line up. You think it was back in the first week of October that you mentioned it, and then by Halloween you’d already played several rounds. Between that and losing to Momo in several games of pool, finals month had flown by.

But…

“I didn’t even tell you that.” Your voice comes out meek, and even though you’re in a safe space now, you’re still too nervous to turn your head and look at him. “I was talking to Shoto.” You’d even been half sure that Shoto wasn’t really registering what you were saying, with Ochako an inch away from him shrieking starships were meant to fly-y-y-y-y directly into his ear.

Katsuki grunts. “I was there, wasn’t I?”

If you wrack your memory, you can sort of remember it. He was…on Ochako’s other side? When she got drunk, she usually wanted to whack something, and Katsuki’s arm had been her victim that day, her palm smacking against his elbow at every other sung word.

The heat from your ears travels down to your neck. Over the singing and over everyone else’s conversations, was he paying attention to…you?

“I appreciate it,” you squeak quickly, wincing when you’re shot in the leg, “I mean, that was nice. Thank you. I just—I didn’t think you wanted me telling people we were friends, after what happened to—”

“If you bring up Monoma, I’ll take away your blanket,” he threatens; it makes you chuckle weakly. “You’re not that shithead. He pisses me off. You’re…you know.” You don’t know, actually. “You.”

Yeah, you’re you. You play games with him. You know his friends. You’re the only one who can try to outdance Eijiro to Rasputin in Just Dance. What does any of that have to do with…

“Do you think I ever fuckin’ carried that dick’s bag to class?”

“I don’t—”

“Do you think I had his stupid long ice cream order memorized? Pistachios, on the sides only,” he mimics, and you huff in an affronted sort of way, defensive of your topping choices. “Telling people to shut up so that I could hear what he was saying? Turning up the heat and burning up everyone in the apartment just to keep him warm? Was I inviting him to my place every two weeks just to fuckin’ watch him play Kingdom Hearts 3?”

And so, you finally look to the side. Katsuki’s cheeks are red, and his gaze is still on the television. His thumbs move furiously against the controller, and you have to bite your lip to prevent a quiet you’re really cute, you know that? from carelessly slipping from your mouth.

“But, to be fair,” you attempt, still confused, “you don’t exactly do all of that for your other friends either, Katsuki.”

At your words, he slouches into his seat more, the creases on his forehead deepening as an uncharacteristic frown—a frown, not a scowl—forms on his face. One would think you’d just told him you hated his guts. 

“Yeah.“ His glare flickers over to you for a moment. “Exactly.”

There’s a blast from the TV and a realization that hits you at the same time. 

You’re not his friend. He doesn’t see you as a friend.

The heat finally reaches your cheeks, and your mouth falls open slightly. 

Then, realizing something else, your head immediately snaps back to the screen to see that blast sound had actually been your character getting blown up. 

Your mouth falls open. You’d looked away for a few seconds at best. Which aces are in the lobby tonight?

“I lost,” you tell him, crestfallen. 

Katsuki snorts. “I didn’t.”

He keeps playing, and your cheeks don’t take any time to cool down. Instead, you stare at him while he’s distracted trying to escape the same vicious bastards who hunted you down, and you note that his face doesn’t look any less heated either. For once, it’s clearly not because he’s just getting into the game.

You wonder if that was ever the case at all, or if he just felt the same striking little jolt you did everytime you two accidentally bumped into each other while playing on this exact couch.

“I think I’m done for tonight.” The announcement comes out a bit louder than you expected. “I’ll probably head back.”

“I don’t think so.” Without breaking his eyes away from the TV, he nudges his head in the direction of the bedrooms. “Uraraka’s dead on her feet, and you’re not walkin’ back alone.”

Has he always purposely caused the fluttering in your chest? “Okay, well. Izuku’s still awake, I’ll just take his bed for now.”

Katsuki’s tongue clicks in a fuck-around-and-find-out kind of way. “Alright. Put the controller back before you go.”

“Fine. Where’s the, uh…” You turn your head this way and that, looking for the little box that they all go in.

“On my right,” he offers casually, not a hint on his face that he essentially just confessed to you.

Feeling a little spiteful, you reach to the side, blanket and all, instead of just standing up and going behind the couch like you would any other day. Purposefully blocking his view of the screen as you reach over him to toss the controller into the box, you smirk slightly when another blast signals that he’s died as well.

Only to yelp when a firm arm shoves you down against his chest.

“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, red eyes glittering in amusement as he watches you struggle on his lap, “I lost too.”

Tokage is going to hear a very different story tomorrow. “And how’s that my problem?”

His grip tightens, fingers gently digging into the thick cloth of the blanket that’s draped over you. “I wanna play again. And I’m cold.”

There’s a small, dumb grin on his face that you’d consider kissing off if it wasn’t mirrored by an equally dumb one of yours. You’re pretty sure Katsuki’s never ever complained about the cold in his apartment. But then, he’s never complained about the heat either. If he wants to be a sauna under you, who are you to deny him? Besides, you’re feeling cold too, you might as well just take advantage of the free insulation.

From the table, in the midst of pouring something that looks like cookie batter into a bowl, Kyoka raises her brow at the sight of you, then pats Tenya’s arm and points. 

He mouths something like, “Finally.”

Face burning once more, you bury your face in Katsuki’s neck, and relax in his hold while he presses X to replay.

#bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #valkyrie stories

[heartsandhischier]

Rink Bonds

luke hughes x female!reader

summary - 1.1k words. Figure skating reader and Michigan wolverine Luke = loveeeee

author's note - i can really see luke being like this, and i love it

warnings - none

You pushed open the heavy doors of Yost Arena, the familiar chill of the ice rink greeting you as you stepped inside. With a gap in your class schedule, you decided to make the most of it by hitting the ice for some practice. Another USFS intercollegiate competition approaching, you were determined to come out on top.

You headed to the locker room changing into your figure skating gear – black tights, a black jacket, and leg warmers – before lacing up your skates. After stowing your belongings in a locker, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the rink. As you approached, the familiar sound of skates scraping against the ice and the clinking of hockey sticks filled your ears, indicating that you wouldn’t have the ice to yourself as you’d hoped.

Your annoyance faded, however, when you spotted the stowaway on the ice – Luke Hughes.  Swiftly moving around the ice, navigating the puck as he let it fly into the net. The youngest of the famous Hughes brothers and a New Jersey Devils prospect, Luke was a familias name around the Michigan University campus, of course you knew who he was.

You had crossed paths with him a handful of times at various parties, and during your late-night practices at the rink, you’d often find him lingering after his hockey practice. Despite these encounters, you’d never engaged in more than a few awkward hellos and goodbyes. Each time he exited the rink, you’d enter, and vice versa, exchanging fleeting glances and polite nods as you passed by each other.

As you watched Luke’s graceful movements on the ice, it was as if he belonged there, the rink his natural habitat. Removing your skate guards and placing your water bottle on the bench, you elegantly glided onto the ice. The sound of skates slicing through the ice echoed in the rink as Luke paused his movements, turning his attention towards you. His warm smile greeted you as you approached. “Practice?” he offered, leaning casually on his stick.

A smile played on your lips as you nodded in agreement. “Yeah, change in my class schedule. So figured I’d put the newfound free time to good use,” you replied. “Same,” Luke chuckled. With a nod, you both resumed your routines, the sound of skates carving the ice filling the air. 

For the next hour, you and Luke practiced on opposite sides of the rink, occasionally exchanging glances and playful banter. “You’re pretty good, Hughes,” you remarked, admiring his skill as he effortlessly sent the puck into the net.

“Likewise,” he laughed, skating around with ease.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself meeting again and again at the empty rink. It almost became an unspoken agreement between you and Luke, meeting at the same time between classes or during those late evenings when the campus was quiet.

With each meeting, your bond grew stronger, fueled by shared practices and playful banter. As you glided across the ice, Luke would often join you, his skates slicing through the surface so effortlessly. Despite the differences in your respective sports, you found common ground in your shared love for the rink.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Luke patiently tried to explain the nuances of hockey to you, his passion evident in every gesture. In return, you attempted to teach him the graceful movements of figure skating, guiding him through simple maneuvers with a patient hand. 

“Okay, so imagine you’re gliding on air,” you explain, demonstrating a graceful spin on your skates. “Now, give it a try.”

Luke nodded eagerly, his determination shining through as he attempted to mimic your movements. Though his first attempts were a bit clumsy, you couldn’t help but admire his determination.

“Almost there,” you encouraged, stifling a laugh as he stumbled and fell onto the ice, landing on his butt with a thud. 

As you focused on perfecting your flip jump, you felt a presence approaching on the ice. Turning around, you saw Luke skating towards you flashing you a charming smile. “Hey there,” he greeted, his voice carrying over the sound of skates slicing through the ice. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to my hockey game this weekend. It’s going to be a good one.”

You paused your practice, meeting his gaze with a playful smirk. “Hmm, tempting offer,” you replied, tilting your head to the side. “But only if you promise to come to my competition next week.”

Luke chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Deal,” he agreed without hesitation, extending his hand in a mock handshake.

With a wink, Luke skated backward, resuming his practice. “Can’t wait to see you there,” he called out before speeding off across the ice. 

On the day of the hockey game, you found yourself seated in the stands, eagerly watching as the Michigan Wolverines took to the ice. During warmups, Luke skated to where you were seated in the stands, approaching with a smirk.

“I have a bet,” he declared, you smirked at him letting out a soft chuckle before urging him to go on. “If I score, you have to go on a date with me,” he continued, his confidence evident in his tone. Chuckling at his boldness, you accepted, “What if you don’t?” you asked. “We both know that won’t happen,” he winked before resuming his warm up.

As the game progressed, you watched in amazement as Luke displayed his skill on the ice, scoring goal after goal with precision and finesse. The puck went flying into the net, sending the crowd into a frenzy of cheers and applause. The arena echoed with the sound of the buzzer, a hat trick – this idiot scored a hat trick.

After the final buzzer sounded and the Michigan Wolverines secured a clear victory, Luke skated over to you with a triumphant grin on his face. “Well, what did you think?” he asked eagerly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm, nodding in approval. “Impressive,” you admitted. “I mean, a hat trick? Way to show off,” you playfully remarked.

Luke let out a chuckle, his confidence soaring. “Thanks,” he replied, running a hand through his dark curls. “But I couldn’t have done it without a little motivation.” You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "Oh, so it was all about our little bet, huh?" you teased. Luke chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Partly," he admitted, his tone turning more sincere. "But mostly because I wanted to impress you." The admission caught you off guard, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Well, consider me impressed," you said, unable to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. As the crowd began to disperse, Luke turned to you with a hopeful expression. "So, about that date..." he trailed off, leaving the invitation hanging in the air. You pretended to mull it over for a moment, though the answer was already clear in your mind. 

"I suppose I owe you one.”

#luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes #luke hughes fic #luke hughes oneshot #njd #lh43 #nhl fanfic #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils fanfiction #luke hughes blurb

[callmerainman]

First Man on the Earth still couldn't hit this | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

pairing. sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

themes. enemies to lovers, Adam reincarnates as a sinner, Reader is a royal guard.

spoilers! for Hazbin Hotel S1 finale

tw! mentions of sex, suggestive themes in general, the feminism leaving my body as I write for Adam

When Adam came back as a sinner and asked to be redeemed at the Hotel, no one was having that shit lmao.

But, as always, Charlie believes in second chances and it didn't feel right to her to just not let him in.

At only one condition: he would always have to be supervised by you, Lucifer's royal guard.

You were skilfully trained to become a guard at the royal family's services, and Lucifer had just the right mission for you in mind.

You accepted gladly, finally a task that wasn't guarding his rubber ducks.

But then you meet Adam, and you start immediately regretting the ducks.

You both find each other totally INSUFFERABLE.

He hates the idea of someone watching over him, so he lashes at you multiple times a day, as you talk back to him.

"Can't you just not stick your fucking angelic spear in my cereals?"

Despite your hatred for him, you took the mission very seriously and watched over him to check all his moves, just in case he had bad intentions.

But if you could, oh you would have ran away from his repellent presence the second you saw him at the Hotel.

He despises you so much that he doesn't even dare to flirt with you. You heard right. ADAM.

It takes some next level skill to get on his nerves to the point where he doesn't even want to sleep with you. And he remarks it a lot.

You do the same honestly.

"An old hag like you can only DREAM of having a piece of the original dick!"

Your face distorts in disgust "I would rather swallow all of Lucifer's rubber ducks than even think about it!"

At least you agree on something.

So your dynamic mainly consists of fighting, shouting at each other, name calling, pointing at his throat with your spear, Charlie separating you two as soon as you start throwing hands.

Speaking of Charlie, she had some special classes to make you two get along but they made things worse if anything.

One of them lead to the biggest fight you and Adam ever had.

As soon as you both get up to go to your respective rooms, still shouting insults at each other, Angel Dust raises one of his hands.

"Is it me or I sense some unspoken sexual tension?"

Everybody groans in disapproval, but immediately starts placing bets. Angel Dust is the only one who bets that you two will end up fucking.

In your room, you try to cool down but Adam is just making your job impossible. You're in fact fuming just by thinking about him and his stupid pretty face and his way of talking back to you.

Exasperated, you knock at his door, face already hot in anger. You want to set things straight.

As soon as he opens the door and sees you, he's already annoyed.

"You're making my job fucking impossible, you know?! If you really want to redeem yourself maybe you can start collaborating instead of being the most fucking annoying being to ever land in Hell!" you scream, pointing a finger at him.

Adam gets close to your face, towering over you "I'm not the one who asked to have someone fucking glued to my ass, you know?!"

Neither of you noticed your proximity, not until your foreheads were touching and you were breathing heavily against each other's faces, both hot. From anger, or...you know.

And then, something happens.

You both just lean in and kiss.

Oh boy Angel Dust may be onto something.

The moment you and Adam start to make out is the one you realize that all that fighting was your way of denying something that is now obvious.

The magnetic, undeniable sexual tension that wasn't just some weird figment of imagination.

In a matter of seconds you're all over each other and Adam drags you inside his room. You shut the door, just in case.

After you're done you find something else to agree on! 1. Best sex ever 2. No one has to know 3. Never again

You end up having sex again that very same day. And everybody knows because they heard you downstairs. A very lucky day for Angel Dust's finances!

Neither of you knew that the others at the Hotel were aware so you two would try to sneak out to have sex discreetly.

"We'll go upstairs to...uh...FIGHT! You know? Because we always fight! And we're totally not going upstairs to have sex...'cause we would never have sex with each other!"

Except none of that is discreet, you two go absolutely wild at it.

Meanwhile, you and Adam start to open up to each other more, mainly during pillow talk. You find out that you have a common music taste, and humor. Conversations flow so naturally, something that you would have never guessed.

Something blossoms, and you and Adam realize that you are head over heels for each other.

In the end, Charlie brings up to you two that everybody at the Hotel knows that you have been hooking up. On one side, because she's genuinely happy that you two get along in one way or another. Second, Alastor threatened to obliterate you both if you don't stop exposing him to your obscenities.

So you and Adam decide to stop keeping it a secret, to both yourselves and the gang, and officially become a couple.

Let's say that you still are all over him but in a very different way.

The other guests at the Hotel start regretting the times when you two would just shout at each other incoherently.

Lots of PDA, that's the point.

Not in front of Alastor though, you don't want to risk anything.

But what's more redeeming than a really, really, really stupid love?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #adam x you #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x you #enemies to lovers #writers on tumblr #scenarios #headcanons #adam fanfiction

[lovelyiida]

ミ★ IMAGINE KATSUKI SECRETLY KNOWING HOW TO SPEAK ENGLISH | once a year, ua hosts a program where rivaling schools in the area are allowed to stay for a month and experience being at one of the most prestigious schools in the country. And your school just so happened to be selected!

[ask based series, don’t be shy!]

you and a selected handful of students were allowed to be apart of class 1-A for the time being. It was almost otherworldly once you walked in. Almost as if you were an alien greeting its foreign counterparts.

From your uniform, to the way you styled yourself—you were obviously a different sight never before seen.

Silently walking over to a random desk, you sit down and look ahead. Trying your hardest to grasp the lecture being spoken in a whole other language. You fought through with incoherent hums and shy nods.

Soon the bell rings and everyone (except your group because you literally have no idea what’s going on) jolts from their seats. Groups of students start to surround you.

Looking at each one you try your hardest to respond to them. From think accents and broken sentences—all you could do was politely nod.

“Leave em’ some space, damn it!”

Looking over, you see a random blonde burst in what you believe was anger. The group of students fade away and begin to innocently heckle your classmates instead.

The blonde walks over to you, looking down he begins to study your frame. Eyes leading from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He dryly chuckles before speaking “nice shoes.”

Okay, that you could understand.

“Thanks! Like your belt,” you smile at the blonde before he gave you a nod of approval. “Don’t let those losers get so close, some of them do bite.” He says with a playful smirk.

Standing from your seat you chuckle at his words. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” the class watched as the both of you walked out of the room together, curious as to why Katsuki of all people was talking to you.

“So…what’s your name?” You asked.

“Bakugo Katsuki, but just call me Katsuki” he says, with a nod you held out your hand.

“My name is Y/n L/n, nice to meet you” you say with a warm smile. Katsuki reaches out and shakes your hand.

“Don’t get too used to me, you’re only gonna know me for a month” he deadpanned before retracting his hand back into his pocket. You couldn’t help but to scoff at his words.

“A lot can happen in a month, you never know—the universe could’ve led me to you.”

“Yeah, okay.”

What Katsuki didn’t tell you is that he’s been secretly studying English for years since the entrance exam. Kinda because he’s an All Might nerd and wanted to speak English just like him—but I digress…

Katsuki was almost excited that the program was happening. Since he didn’t know how to test out his skills beforehand. And he was also, kinda excited when he met you. Seeing that he didn’t butcher his words like how Denki did when he tried to ask you for your name.

So yeah, a lot can happen in a month.

Katsuki was down.

Okay so, I kinda wanna make this into a thing where you guys can come out with your own scenarios and I can write them out for you!! I’ve been day dreaming about this for a long time and I wanna see it come into fruition. So don’t be shy to ask!!!

— lovelyiida ❤︎︎

TAGLIST:

#lovelyiida #mha headcanons #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha insert #mha fanfiction #bakugo x reader #lovelyiida—katsuki #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugo x reader