#💙 blue writes

[theanimeroom]

iichigo who moans super loudly whenever he’s about cum 😩 god i need him badly

time to push one of my favorite agendas 🫡🫡

down bad!ichigo kurosaki who’s favorite time of day is the moment he gets to come back home to you. in a profession where he spends most of his time being chased and attacked by ravenous monsters, coming home to you in your barely there pajama set is just what he needed to take the edge off. he moves like a snake when he walks through the front door, slithering quietly through the house as he searched for his next meal. when he found you in your shared bedroom, laid out against the sheets, the man knew he was hovering over you in an instant.

down bad!ichigo kurosaki who wasn’t really one for explanations, and only latched his lips onto yours the moment you noticed his presence in the house. also down bad!ichigo kurosaki who rips your clothes off without a second though because the thought of you hiding your body under those clothes is absolutely ridiculous.

down bad!ichigo kurosaki whos cock is already heavy and leaking for you. you’d have half a mind to remind him to grab a condom if you ever remembered to use one, but you’d never stop yourselves from feeling the way that one prominent vein on the underside rubs just right against your walls every time he pulls out of you.

down bad!ichigo kurosaki whos cock is just thick enough to make your eyes cross when he enters you. he’s long enough to press firmly into your g-spot, his dick just perfect for you and you alone. your voice gets caught in your throat whenever he pummels his way back in, his deep voice sinking deeper as you squeeze him so perfectly

down bad!ichigo kurosaki who’s so fucking noisy when he’s close, so you actually had to gag him one time. you were riding his cock like there was no tomorrow, his mouth stuck in a permanent 'O' shape as little ah’s slipped through. his dad was in the next room, and you knew that if he got any louder than that, which he would, that the old man would come barging in on you in no time.

down bad!ichigo kurosaki who proved his status as a A-Class WHORE when his eyes rolled to the back of his head, a guttural moan leaving him only because you shoved your previously worn panties into his mouth as a gag.

down bad!ichigo kurosaki who’s ten times worse when you have the house to yourselves. when he starts to feel that knot tighten in his lower belly, his hips start to roll so deeply you think he’ll breach your throat, his thrusts hard and as far in as they could reach. his eyes are screwed shut and he’s not hearing any of your pleas, only chasing after his own release with a new found vigor

down bad!ichigo kurosaki who rambles about how good you feel half of the time, and how pretty and too good for him you are the other half, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. his voice hitches up an octave or two, and his hands grip your skin so tight that the bruises he leaves behind form dark purple finger prints on your hips. he talks as if he was alone in the room, not jackhammering your shit until you were seeing stars

“hmmm, you’re so fucking warm i could stay here for days,” “i wanna fuck you so bad baby,” “you’re so pretty, how did i manage to get so lucky?” “fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck,” “my baby has such a perfect body, fuck i don’t deserve you at all,” “wanna fuck you like you deserve… yeah? that sound nice?” “i’m gonna come inside this tight little pussy baby, is that what you want?” “yeah…fuck i’m gonna come”

down bad!ichigo kurosaki who when he does come, he lets the whole fucking world know it. he’s a toe curler, you can’t convince me otherwise. this mans body will take a screenshot the moment his orgasm hits him, every muscle in his body going stiff as he releases the most guttural sounds you have ever heard in your life. if one of your ears wasn’t being smothered by the bed sheets below you then you had full access to the moans and shuddered breaths the male regurgitated, his voice raw from being put to use so vigorously

down bad!ichigo kurosaki who rolls his eyes when you bring up his vocal nature later on, watching as you teasingly smiled at him in hopes for round two. you didn’t really have to hope for it though, because he’d give you whatever you wanted and then some at the snap of a finger, all you had yo do was ask.

#i did not proofread this #like at all lmao #but i DID enjoy writing it 👁️🫦👁️ #blues asks 💎 #blues anons 💙 #bleach smut #ichigo kurosaki smut

[kiraman]

are people aware of the fact that Mizu is not canonically in any way shape or form.............. queer....bi.....

(quick note here because reading comprehension stays dead and people may not read the tag novel: I want bi Mizu! I hc her as bi! I love sapphic Mizu)

#Yall are not ready for this take but.......boy....... #can we like praise the show for all its wonderfulness without Proclaiming it a REVOLUTION for the LGBT com. before it actually earns it #It's a thought....... #No one wants bi Mizu more than me trust me but it's just not canon yet. Gender exploration has not gone There #we can meta and we can HC and we can analyse. But it's SUBTEXT #But actually full on praising it for .... something that it's just not there yet is wild to me #A sapphic AF woman #I GET IT. All I write is bi Mizu &Mizu/ladies but it's not canon yet! And if we get it great if we don't oh well! #I'm just saying that...you can't praise a show for what Might happen. That's all 🧘🏻‍♀️💙 #Blue eye samurai is wonderful for so MANY other reasons #Stop giving it credit it has not earned #this is totally open to discussion and non confrontational btw❣️ #if anything the only thing you can kinda give them rep for is Taigen getting a hard on for someone he thinks is a man and STILL... #blue eye samurai #bes mizu #and before anyone comes at me swinging I don't ship ta*zu. that's not at all my point.

[black-salt-cage]

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

#💙 sugar life posting 🌙 #calligraphy #writing #lovecore #blue #stimming #stimblr #stim #stimmy #gifsets #gifs #pens

[oasisofgalaxies]

I hate not being the kind of person who can write amazing character analysis and whatnot . Instead I’m over here gripping the table like HHRGH I LOBE. MICHAEL J CABOOSE . SO MUCH

#I want to write down my thoughts so badly but all my brain is giving me is just 💙💙💞💞💙💞💙💞💞💙💙💙💙💙💞💞💞💞💙💙💙💙💙💙💞💙💞💙💞💙💞💞💞💙💙💙💙💞💙💞💙💞 #yknow #nebula rambles #rvb #red vs blue #caboose rvb #michael j caboose

[missmaywemeetagain]

Something Blue, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

A/N: Ohhh, so y'all forced this out of me, what with all the talk about the "Blue Scarf" and expanding the "Scarf Universe" thrown at me this week! 😂 (I hear you, I hear you!) Be careful what you wish for, lil' darlin's!! Honestly, though, I've known since I ended Pink Scarf that this was something that was going to happen in this particular way to our dear Reader and E, I just never knew if it was going to see the light of day. And with this week's prompt, all the inspiration and stars seemed to align at once on Sunday, so this came out rather quick and may be rough, and it's possible I might go back and tweak it later, but I'm happy with it for now. I hope this satiates you for the moment. I hope it gives you all the feels. And, yes, perhaps I may expand this little Blue Scarf into a series and include a spicy story or two later, if you all are good lil' babies for me. 😏 💙🧣💙 Let me know in the comments and reblogs...😉

Thanks always to my sister wives @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny for allowing me to skirt by late with this week's prompt. 😇

Prompt: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

Rating: PG (ish?) || Word Count: 2.7k

TW: Fluff, angst (always), infidelity (sort of??), no smut (so sorry loves)

Something Blue, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

August 1971

It’s fitting, you think, that today of all days, you’re wearing his blue silk scarf in your hair. Elvis hasn’t worn it much since that fateful summer a couple of years ago—and only for a few more shows and a couple nights out—so you had absconded with it and made it your own, as you’d managed to do with many of his things. You loved how it smelled of him, the silk doused in his musk and cologne, and how it reminded you of the not-wearing-a-shirt-under-a-jacket/jumpsuit phase he gone through that summer and fall of ‘69. Lord, you’d loved that phase. It had been so easy to lay him bare before you.

Heat floods your cheeks at the thought of what this particular scarf has seen between the two of you, and then at the fact that this might be the worst possible time for a thought like that to pop into your head. You know it’s the shock of the bomb that just dropped on your lives that has your brain short circuiting a little. Because neither of you ever expected this.

You nervously twist the platinum and diamonds on your ring finger, the ones which pledged his love for you in front of your family, friends, and the world. Thoughts fill your mind of your lovely, small wedding, how this scarf had been there for that important moment, too, tied around your waist, cinching your white dress—being both your “something borrowed” and your “something blue.” Elvis loved that you’d included it, this piece of him, as part of your gown.

He also loved untying it at the end of the night and letting it flutter to your feet with the rest of your dress.

It’s counterpart, the pink scarf, had been tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket, a little secret for you both. You’d enjoyed it, as well, later that night.

“Y/n, did y-you hear me? I-I-I-It’s me,” Elvis says, snapping you out of your memories, his hand lingering on the phone he’d just placed back on its cradle. “How are w-w-we going to solve this problem?”

The wavering fear in his voice is palpable and in any other circumstance it might scare you, but a strange sense of calm falls over you. Somehow the domino effect of both of your actions two years ago have led you to this very moment. Tragic as it is, it seems meant to be.

Just like you and Elvis.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you breathe deeply. Yes, there is a part of you that is still jealous and angry about what brought you here. But you knew, even back then, that it was possible he’d been with others in your month-long absence, that his fear of losing you plus old habits could have driven him into the arms of another. It wasn’t a new revelation, just one neither of you had wanted to talk about after all was said and done. And it hadn’t been an issue since, so you figured bringing it up would be more trouble than it was worth.

Pushing that hurt aside, a much bigger feeling swells within you—one you’ve been hesitant to name for fear that it would not come to fruition. But now everything has changed.

“It’s not a problem,” you state, your voice surprisingly steady.

“W-w-what?” Elvis questions, those oceanic eyes of his widening in disbelief.

“It’s a gift, Elvis. From the most unlikely and sad circumstances, yes, but a gift all the same. Isn’t it?” You’re not quite sure if you are trying to convince him or if you are just stating the obvious, but those feelings continue to rise in you and have for days. And they overshadow the fading fissure of anger and the burgeoning fear that you refuse to let consume you.

Hope. Joy.

“A gift?” he repeats, letting the words roll on his tongue, letting them sink in. He blinks slowly, gaze shifting off into the distance for a moment. Then, he looks down at the paperwork on the table. At the picture. “Oh. Oh.”

A shuddering breath shakes his shoulders, his ring clad fingers clawing at his knees. It’s when the tears pool in his eyes, finally betraying his sensitive vulnerability after so many days of keeping it in, that you slide out of your chair and rush to his side.

He immediately buries his head into your belly, his arms circling around your waist, clinging to you. A sob wrenches out of him, one so deep that it brings tears to your eyes.

“I-I-I’m so s-sorry. I-I didn’t think...I-I-I din’t know,” he hiccups. You’re not sure if he’s apologizing to you or her or him. Maybe his apology is for all of you.

“Shhh, hush, it’s okay,” you coo, tears trickling absently down your cheeks. You run your fingers through his soft hair before pulling back, cupping his cheeks so he is forced to look at you.

He is so wide-eyed and young-looking staring up at you, his eyes now matching the scarf in your hair with their electric blue, a dramatic contrast against the redness caused by his tears.

“It’s not a problem, honey, it’s a gift. He is a gift,” you say, wiping the tears that linger on his prominent cheekbones. “We can do this. I want to do this. If you do.”

Elvis blinks up at you, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. If he’s a part of you, he’s a part of me, too. And—and,” you choke up, swallowing your past sorrows, “you know it’s something I’ve always wanted. Something I never thought we could have. This is…a chance to make something wonderful out of something tragic.”

You’re aware the reality is likely going to be much more complicated than either of you can fathom in this moment. There is a part of you that is utterly terrified it won’t live up to the miracle you want it to be and that you won’t be worthy of the task. But that is not what Elvis needs to hear, not right now. Your insecurities can wait.

Elvis looks down at the picture resting on the table of the young woman and her baby. Your gaze follows. The first time you saw it, you knew, based solely on the fact that the woman looked so much like a younger version of you, that something had happened between them in those weeks you’d escaped from Vegas to California, when you left him, trying to figure out if you could forgive him. When you were trying to recover from your life turning upside down.

Her likeness plus the look of horrified guilt on his face upon seeing the picture told you all you needed to know about that. His begging and pleading for forgiveness at your feet solidified it.

But it had been the way Vernon had blanched white as a sheet when seeing the baby that you understood the true consequence of Elvis’ dalliance.

It was a punch in the gut, at first. Of course, it was. But logically you knew that he’d been hurting in those weeks without you, unsure if you’d ever come back to him. It wasn’t altogether surprising that he’d sought out comfort from a girl who looked so much like you.

You wanted to be furious at the fact she had gotten pregnant by him so easily, but you knew that was a futile road to go down, especially after what happened to her.

According to the letter she’d given to her lawyer, who had sent it on to Elvis, the cancer within her spread like wildfire. It was too late to save her by the time her pain had sent her to the doctor. She—Theresa—had never planned to ask Elvis for a thing, she reiterated. Theresa had been content to raise her son by herself. But she had no family to take him in when she was gone, and she could not bear to think of her son alone and unloved.

“You don’t have to take him, Elvis, truly. But I beg you, please, please make sure he is placed with a nice family, that he is loved and taken care of. I cannot leave him all alone.”

His lawyers weren’t convinced, however, and didn’t want him to even entertain the thought. It could open you up for all sorts of future problems, Elvis.

But that didn’t stop him from finding out for himself because, as all of them knew, nobody tells Elvis Presley what he can and can’t do. He tracked her down, in Denver of all places, and took you and Vernon with him to the hospital to see Theresa. You didn’t know how you would feel seeing this girl Elvis had been with in a moment of weakness. Would you want to slap her face? Would you want to cry and scream? Would you want to tear her apart?

Instead, it had shocked you into silence, seeing someone that resembled you so closely withering away from disease, as if it were some sort of eerie harbinger. It made your skin prickle. But then compassion filled you, more so than you ever expected. The poor woman was on death’s door, but you’ll never forget the relief in her eyes when you all walked through the door. That look was something that couldn’t be faked. Nor was the toddler playing with the nurse in the corner, the little boy who Vernon looked at like he’d seen a ghost.

The boy was the spitting image of his father.

But that didn’t stop Theresa from encouraging a paternity test. She was well aware of what a mess this could be for Elvis, and she didn’t want there to be a shadow of a doubt for anyone involved. She wanted him to be sure.

“I don’t want to ruin your life,” she’d croaked, her emaciated frame limp and barely able to produce the tears she was trying to hold back. “I never want him to be a burden.”

The tiny blonde child chose that pivotal moment to break away from the nurse, waddling over and grabbing Elvis’ flared pant leg with chubby little fists, commanding Elvis’ attention downward. His chin tucked, gaze following the movement at his feet, and you watched him wrestle with what to do, what the protocol in this sort of situation was. It was intense, this first moment between them, and the boy’s all-too-familiar crooked smile and slow blinking blue eyes made your heart clench.

You watched Elvis come to an unspoken decision, and he lifted the boy easily and almost too naturally tucked the boy into his hip. The room collectively held its breath, watching the scene unfold. You’d never seen a child snuggle up to an unfamiliar person like that before, the way he buried his head into Elvis’ shoulder as if drawn in, inexplicably trusting. Granted, Elvis had that preternatural way about him, his essence bringing people to him constantly. But this was different.

Heart fluttering into a gallop, you watched Elvis take this moment in before nodding solemnly, sucking in his lip. With the child tucked into his side, it was obvious to you that he was holding back his pressing emotions to stay in control. Nevertheless, he was unwavering when he told Theresa, “Even if he’s not mine, I’ll make sure he finds a good home. I promise you that.”

She’d closed her eyes then, and when they opened, you saw a gratefulness and relief so strong it nearly bowed you over.

Elvis had done the blood test right then at the hospital. Everyone was quiet on the plane ride home. Elvis, pensive and withdrawn, clutched at your hand so tightly it tingled from the loss of circulation. And when the call came the next day that Theresa was gone, your heart broke for her. Sheer willpower had kept her alive long enough to make sure her son would be safe. A mother’s love.

You’d wept for her. You’d wept for you and for Elvis. You’d wept for that little boy.

Nicholas. Nicholas Aaron.

You didn’t tell Elvis that the moment you saw the 16-month-old toddle towards you that you knew. That you loved him instantly, like something magical locked into place. It was too early, too soon. But you knew.

Elvis hadn’t wanted to talk about it much as you all waited for the results. He was antsy and on edge, everyone giving him a wide berth. His guilt was trying its best to distance him from you, that deep seeded, insecure vulnerability in him trying to simultaneously push you away while needing you close. It was evident in the way he clung to you in his sleep. But you did everything in your power to let him know you didn’t hate him for the indiscretion, that you still loved him unconditionally, no matter the paternity outcome.

Of course, your mind whirled in overdrive, circling the drain around your surprising emotions about Nicholas. You found yourself worrying your nails down to the quick about whether he was safe and who was caring for him since his mother died. Your heart felt like it was tearing in two whenever you thought about it. You knew you shouldn’t get too attached, but you couldn’t help it. It was primal and biological, this response.

So when the phone rang this morning and Jerry had so seriously handed it to Elvis, you knew what it was, your breath catching in your throat. This was the moment that would change everything. And you hoped it was for the better as you sat across from him, wringing your hands in your lap. Silence filled the room as Elvis listened to the voice on the other end, his face going Hollywood blank, giving you nothing to hold on to. Your heart threatened to explode right out of your chest and onto the table.

He thanked the voice on the other end and hung up the phone.

“E, what did they—” you started.

“I’m his father,” Elvis finally whispered in shock.

And now you are here, holding him to you, being his rock while in your own state of disbelief and wonder. A thousand emotions roll through you all at once: Hope. Joy. Sorrow for Theresa. Guilt for being happy in the face of Nicholas’ tragedy.

“Do you want this, to take him in, Elvis?” you ask, prompting him to look up at you once more. You pray you know the answer.

“Of course, I do. I’m his father. He’s my son,” he says, as if the unfamiliar words have finally landed and he believes them. Then his signature 1,000-megawatt crooked smile spreads across his face. “I have a son! We have a son!” he adds, proudly.  

Elvis jumps up, grabbing you by the waist, spinning you around until the room tilts on its axis. You laugh breathlessly, arms locked around his neck, wondering how in the world you’ve managed to get here after all this time, in the most unlikely of ways.

A son.

When he sets you down, he looks at you, grinning from ear to ear with an unbridled passion like you’ve never seen from him before. It’s not sexual, and it’s different from the passion he has for his music. It’s the love of a new father, you realize, something you never thought you’d get to see. It makes your heart swell uncontrollably.

“Are you absolutely positive this is what you want, lil’ mama?” His questioning eyes search yours as he cups your face, his fingers catching in the blue scarf in your hair. The pet name suddenly takes on a whole new meaning, releasing butterflies in your stomach.

Excitement has your heart racing and your breath short, but you beam, winking, “Oh, I’m one thousand percent positive, Daddy.”

Elvis kisses you deeply, as though he’s merging with you, engulfing you. It takes your breath away completely.

“We have a son,” he whispers, smiling against your mouth. “Let’s go get our son.” There’s something in the way he includes you in this, a pointed clarity that you are not an outsider because you aren’t Nicholas’ biological mother. No, he’s telling you in no uncertain terms—this is your boy as much as he is mine.

And after so many years thinking it could never be, it finally, truly hits you, without a doubt:

I’m going to be a mother.

*

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#something blue #writing prompt game #something blue: a pink scarf universe story #blue scarf #💙🧣💙 #pink scarf #💗🧣💗 #pink scarf universe #elvis presley #elvis #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #austin!elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #missmaywemeetagain #madisyn may

[myreygn]

All's well that ends well

summary: Bachira is on a pranking rampage and Chigiri is collateral damage. That wouldn't be such a big deal if the day couldn't have gotten any worse already, but luckily Kunigami is there to get everything back on track.

an: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @giggly-squiggily AGAIN HERE IS YOUR BELATED BIRTHDAY GIFT! i'm hitting myself hard for not getting this out sooner but it's here now and i hope you like it! stay wonderful and next year i'll try the whole being on time things again <3

wordcount: 1969

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

Practice was going great. At least Kunigami kept telling himself that over and over again, although believing it got harder with every missed pass, every flunked goal shot and every frustrated groan behind his back. They were all kinda off today and if it had just been that, he wouldn’t have minded as much. Of course having a bad day was annoying, especially when it seemed to be contagious to everyone else as well, but bad days were normal and they could easily be fixed by a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.

However, it wasn’t just a bad day. In fact, Bachira was having a great day. Apparently their dribbler had had a clown for breakfast and it showed; so far he had swapped Igarashi’s clothes with Iemon’s, put toothpaste under the door knob for Naruhaya to grab into, changed Gagamaru’s alarm to a death metal version of Baby Shark, and tied Raichi’s shoelaces together, twice. He was on a roll and while everyone was certainly on their toes, Bachira had yet to go on their very last nerve. Emphasis on yet.

A startled yelp caught his attention and Kunigami didn’t even bother watching as the ball flew past the goal, turning around instead. Chigiri held a bottle in his hand, the front of his shirt and his chin drenched in water. Looking a little closer, Kunigami saw that the lid had been unscrewed. Their resident team princess was apparently the newest victim of Bachira’s prank spree and he was not having it. Oh yeah, practice was going amazing.

“What the hell, Bachira!”

“Sorry, sorry! I thought this was Isagi’s!” In Bachira’s defense, he did seem shocked. Kunigami didn’t doubt for a second that he was telling the truth; Chigiri’s day had started off badly enough with his hair do loosening every ten minutes and after he had literally tripped over his own feet during warm up, face planting into the field at full speed, the team had unanimously decided to just leave him alone for the time being. And Bachira would never purposefully make a bad day worse, they all knew that. Unfortunately, Chigiri seemed to have forgotten about that in his annoyance.

“Amazing, thanks, that’ll definitely dry my clothes.”

“I know it won’t, I just-”

“You just wanted to test my patience, I get it! Because my day went so great up until now!”

“Chichi, I didn’t mean to-”

“Yeah well, you did! And don’t call me that!” The redhead’s glare made Kunigami go weak in the knees and it wasn’t even directed at him. “If you stopped playing these stupid pranks, shit like this wouldn’t happen! You’re not funny, just cut the crap already!”

“Woah, hey!” Isagi took a step forward as if to shield Bachira. “Chigiri-”, but Chigiri had already grabbed his things and stormed off.

The silence in the hall dragged on for an uncomfortable five seconds before Gagamaru softly cleared his throat. “Let’s call it a day. Bachira, do you, uh…”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but the dribbler turned away before any of them could comment on his quivering lip. “Sorry, I’ll just… I think I’m gonna lie down for a bit. Sorry, really.”

With that he was out the door and the rest of the team exchanged glances, then Isagi nodded slightly and quickly got up to go after Bachira. Iemon jumped upright as well, shooing his teammates away. “Alright, go and hit the showers, you reek!” The boys gathered their things and upon one last exchange of glances, Kunigami slipped out of the room to go and look for Chigiri.

—

He found the princess in the recording room, sitting in the corner that was the farthest away from the door, curled up with his head buried in his arms and just seeming overall miserable. On second glance, Kunigami noticed his shoulders shaking ever so slightly and he even caught a sniffle. Alright, approach with caution.

“Hey.” He quietly closed the door after himself, making the screens’ bluish shine the only source of light in the room, and carefully stepped closer. “Is this seat taken?”

Nothing, not even a huff of reluctant amusement and Kunigami felt himself deflate a little. Dumb jokes like this usually made Chigiri downright cackle, he had to be really upset if he wasn’t even gonna acknowledge it. Still, he also showed no signs of wanting to be left alone, so Kunigami sat down next to him, not touching him yet. “So… that was not excellent.”

No answer. The hero frantically tried to think of something to say that would get through to his friend when he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but… “Are you in pain?”

A shivery breath was the only response he got, but he wasn’t just gonna drop this. Kunigami sat up straighter and put his hand on Chigiri’s which had tightened its grip on his bad knee. “Hey, Chigiri, look at me. If you’re in pain, you need to tell me.”

The most anxiety-inducing three seconds of his life later, the smaller boy finally lifted his head and relaxed his hand a little. “I’m not hurt.” Despite the tear stains on his face, Kunigami felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Then Chigiri looked down again. “I was just scared I would be.”

Kunigami felt his heart clench a little at the quietness of his voice, but at least he was talking to him now. “What do you mean?”

“I was scared it’d start to hurt after I fell.” The redhead wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and Kunigami couldn’t help but feel a little good at Chigiri letting his guard down around him like that. “My knee is fine, I just… the entire time I kept thinking ‘What if it isn’t?’ and I got really anxious and I guess I kinda…”

Chigiri let the sentence trail off to silence and Kunigami nodded slightly. “You were tense and the thing with the water bottle was just the last drop.” That got him a quiet huff - still well below the average reaction, but he wasn’t gonna complain. A win was a win, however small. Next step. “That wasn’t okay, you realize that, right? I mean, I get it, but Bachira didn’t target you on purpose. And I think what you said really took a toll on him.”

Chigiri’s expression morphed into some kind of mortified guilt and Kunigami quickly put an arm around him, pulling him a little closer in the process. God, he was tense. “Isagi went after him, don’t worry. You obviously feel awful about this, I didn’t mean to make it worse, sorry. Just go apologize, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The redhead nodded, drying the last remaining tears. “I wanted to do that anyway… I wanted to take back everything as soon as I left, but then I had to cry and I went here to calm down, but then it just got worse being all alone, and… thank you for coming, really.”

Kunigami smiled, softly caressing his teammate’s back. “Anytime, princess.”

“Shut up.” Chigiri flashed him a weak smile and sat up straight, stretching his arms. “Guess I should go apologize.”

“Oh no, not yet.”

“Huh? Why d- ehehehehey!”

Kunigami’s smile turned into a smirk at the way Chigiri immediately curled into himself as soon as he felt the fingers on his ribs, pressing his arms to his side and trying in vain to get away, but the taller boy just wrapped his free arm around him and pulled him back, not stopping the soft tickling of his ribs for even a moment. “You wanted to calm down first, didn’t you? You’re still as stiff as a poker, I can’t let you face Bachira like that.”

“Whahahahat dohohoes thahahahat hahahave toho dohoho wihihith tihihicklihihing mehehehe- aehehehe heheheherohoho!”

“Yes, princess?” He wormed his fingers under Chigiri’s arm and almost let out a giggle himself at the squeal that got him. He was careful not to be too rough however; he wanted Chigiri to relax, not perish. “Something the matter?”

“Yohohohou’re ahahaha jeheheherk, thahahahat’s the mahahahatter!”

“Tsk.” Kunigami gripped him a bit tighter and softly grazed a single finger over his knee, causing Chigiri to shriek and kick out. “I come here to cheer you up and this is the thanks I get? Such disrespect?”

“Kuhuhuhunihi, nahahaht thehehehe! Ihihihit tihihickles tohohoo muhuhuhuch!”

“That’s because you’re too ticklish, my lady.” Another soft scratch to the knee and Chigiri threw his head back, full on cackling now. “I’m barely touching you.”

“AEHEHE- heheherohoho, plehehehease!”

“Alright, alright.” Kunigami chuckled softly and released his teammate, softly wiping a laughing tear away with his thumb and caressing his back to help through the after-giggles. The tension had faded. Mission accomplished. “You good?”

“Yeheah… mahan, you suck.” Chigiri shook his head with a smile, then grabbed Kunigami’s extended hand to stand up with him. “Thanks again.”

“Of course. Now come on, let’s go. Make everything right again.”

—

Making everything right again was often a task easier said than done.

When they entered the room, Kunigami’s gaze immediately fell on Bachira’s futon. The dribbler said there with his legs crossed, slumped over and fiddling with his hands, not even looking up when the door opened. The ginger felt Chigiri tense next to him and he gently squeezed his hand, mouthing ‘You can do this’ at him when he was met with an anxious glance.

Chigiri took a deep breath and walked over to his friend slowly, then kneeled down in front of him on the floor. “Bachira? Can I talk to you?”

The dribbler looked up and expectantly examined the redhead, but he didn’t say a word. Kunigami felt himself grow slightly anxious now as well and he looked over to Isagi who was… smiling softly? Seeming relaxed? Curious. The ginger decided to just let things progress.

Chigiri didn’t catch the ease with which Isagi watched the scene. He was entirely focused on Bachira when he nervously grasped onto his shirt and began to speak. “I’m really sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, I was just… I was feeling stressed and scared because of the fall and I shouldn’t have taken that out on you, especially when you didn’t do it on purpose, which, I- I know you didn’t, I shouldn’t have accused you of that, that was a shitty thing to do. Everything I did was shitty, I’m really really sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Bachira tilted his head and just sat there for a few seconds, then a smile began tugging at his lips. “You’re lovely, thank you.” He put a hand on Chigiri’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “I’m sorry for getting you caught in the crossfire, I might’ve gone a little overboard with all the pranks today. Forgive me too?”

“Of course!” 

Kunigami smiled softly when Bachira pulled Chigiri in for a hug and the redhead relaxed visibly. A look over to Isagi however showed him a mischievous little smirk on his lips and a realization dawned on him. This was still Bachira. Before he could warn Chigiri, the dribbler began speaking again.

“There’s one last thing though…”

Confusion showed itself on Chigiri’s face. “What thing?”

“Revenge.”

“What are you- wait, waitwaitwait, not agahahAHAHAHAIN-”

“Again? So Kunigami got his turn already?” Bachira grinned and grabbed Chigiri’s wrist, pulling it to the side for better access to his armpit. “Then it would be unfair to deny me mine, don’t you think, Chichi?”

Kunigami couldn’t help but chuckle to himself softly and he turned away to make himself comfortable on his futon. All’s well that ends well, he could let this go on for a little longer.

#rey writes #blue lock #bllk #tword fic #hurt/comfort #(if you squint) #ler!kunigami #lee!chigiri #ler!bachira #ticklish!chigiri #kunigami rensuke #chigiri hyoma #bachira meguru #slight kunigiri #rey's moots #squiggily 💙

[wayward-sherlock]

it’s bluesday everyone.

#get it…blue + tuesday…cuz blue and yellow… #sorry just. just read it #byler #wayli writes #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #mike wheeler i know what you are #ao3 #byler fic #ctm #close to me #byler x dirty dancing au #chapter 5 #💛💙 #🫧🪴 #🍉

[darkcrowprincess]

Tmnt Leo headcanons:

Has anxiety, trauma and depression. Wants to protect his family. It's his main reason for everything. But feels like he needs his family more than they need him. Constantly needs to be in control. Can't let his guard down for one second. Needs to be the best leader, best big brother, best eldest son. Is constantly caring the weight of everything on his shoulders. If he were to say his dreams are? He wants a family of his own. More so than being loved, he wants to have a baby. But with being a mutant he feels like that dream is out of reach. He would make a really good parent. Sword fighting and training on the outside seems to be all he is but it's not. He's a big nerd. Lord of the rings, star trek, Japanese fighting movies, and ghibli are his favorite. Loves traditional Japanese culture and aesthic. If he could, he'd leave the city and live in the country side. Sometimes his brothers drive him crazy and he wishes they would just listen to him no question asked. Just follow orders. But they're his brothers. He wouldn't want them any other way. Emotionally he's the closest to Mikey. But he loves all his brothers. Sometimes he wishes he could let his anger out like Raph, but his anger is probably more dangerous. Secretly doesn't want to be leader. But accepts it anyway. Is aware he's a big stick in the mud, but someone needs to be the responsible one. Constantly wishes it doesn't have to be him. Can use katanas and bow and arrows. Has accepted he's a mutant. Most distrustful of humans. But has a big sense of justice. Is amazing at strategy, but improvising is not his strong suit. Most likely to go evil if something were to happen to his brothers. Gets along better with women than males(other than his brothers). Loves cats, tea, oranges. And pizza of course. Can cook but not as good as Mikey. Mostly simple things. Can sing, next to Mikey has the best voice. Loves languages. Would rather be outside with nature more than anything. Is a dork when it comes to flirting, but gets more confident the more he knows you and the older he gets. Is a control freak, over protective, and can be a little boring at times. But you can count on Leo no matter what. Acts like he wouldn't kill someone, but could very easily could. Brave lion boy with ice cold anger who would destroy himself for his family and love ones.

#my thoughts #tmnt #turtles 🐢 #leo #leonardo #my baby 💙 #leader in blue #my writing

[kaioken16]

AoNoSummer2023 Day 9 - Shopping 🍱

Another script piece, a future AU 💜💙 Rizmo piece ft. their kid. Izumo has fallen ill due to a fever so Rin looks after her and their son, and takes care of the chores including shopping while dealing with their hyperactive son.

(Set in a canon-divergent AU in the future where Rin and Izumo are married and parents, in their late 20s-early 30s)

#AoNoSummer2023 #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #script #script format #blue exorsict #ao no exorcist #aoex #aoex fanfic #blue exorcist fanfiction #rizumo #💜💙 #original characters

[jazzy-mass]

So. Restoration huh?

#when i tell you i screamed #I mean i legit had to muffle my voice so I didn’t freak out my roommates #BURNIE IS WRITING THIS #there was a period of time I couldn’t even watch red vs blue because church and epsilon were both gone #I still went back and finished but like #this is my boy #before wash was my favorite #church was my favorite #and he continues to hold a special place in my heart #he’s an asshole 💙😌✨ #I love him #red vs blue #red vs blue restoration #rvb restoration #red vs blue church #leonard church #epsilon #rvb church #rvb epsilon #rvb caboose #rvb tucker #I’m gonna sob when this is over just so you know #but honestly I’m excited regardless of the cynicism a lot of people are feeling by this point #but that’s also because I ignore all that and enjoy the shows for what they are #including RWBY #so. #anyway

[gingericywolf]

Remember when i posted this? I've waited enough. I'm just leaving this here for now

#ben pincus #raven (jwcc oc) #jwcc #camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous oc #jurassic world: camp cretaceous #giw art #how do you save things without the background? #I'd really like to make this into a sticker for myself #this has been in my drafts since may #if you remember the sketch congrats #trying to fix the colors for posting was a paaiiin #I wanted to write something to attach it #a little scene for this #eventually I will #also time I add these tags -> #💙benven🖤 #blue-feather ship #ben/raven #canon/oc #They are Just Friends! I say. Fuck You They Say to me #i used a pose reference from pinterest it's not perfect

[thebooktopus]

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt "playing with fire" - this one is dedicated to the lovely and talented @bluebutter-art! happy happy birthday, blue! Liv's list this morning reminded me of your absolutely fab artwork of dragon tamers drarry and this was the result. I hope you're having an amazing day!! (T, 375 words)

Harry did some quick mental maths, calculating his speed against the distance between him and the Snitch, as well as Norberta’s incoming velocity and likelihood that she’d singe him. 

“Potter, don’t you dare!” Draco called out behind him. Harry could hear a hint of fear, but that hadn’t ever stopped him before. 

One quick barrel-roll and a lot of faith in his favourite dragon on the reserve, and Harry was holding the Snitch overhead, grinning back at Draco. “Don’t be a sore loser, Malfoy,” he teased.

Draco glared at him before heading for the ground. 

Harry groaned. “We’ll play again tomorrow, ‘Berta, promise.” He thought he caught a look of sympathy from the docile predator. 

Throwing his broom in the equipment shed, Harry chased after Draco, who was stomping towards the row of cabins. “Draco, come on!” he called, jogging up and reaching for him.

“Don’t touch me.” Draco jerked away. 

“Draco,” Harry pleaded. “I knew she wasn’t going to blast me. We were having fun, weren’t we?” 

Draco spun, his eyes full of the fire that Norberta had held back. “Fun? We were having fun until you decided that catching the Snitch was more important than your own life!” He shoved Harry.

“Draco—” Harry caught Draco’s arm and ran his hand down the leather of Draco’s armour.

“Don’t ‘Draco’ me, you arse,” Draco snapped, but he didn’t pull away. 

“I’m sorry I scared you.” Harry linked their fingers together. “I promise next time I’ll forget the Snitch.” 

Draco scoffed, but let Harry pull him closer. “Whatever, Potter.”

“Oh, so I’m ‘Potter’ today?” Harry tentatively pressed a kiss to the side of Draco’s mouth.

“Until I’m done being angry with you, yes.” Draco’s words didn’t match his tone, though, and he accepted another lingering kiss from Harry. 

“Okay, darling,” Harry said, squeezing his hand. “Do you still want to catch the sunset?”

Draco looked up, as if assessing the pinks and oranges and determining their worth. “Yes. But from the porch, not from our brooms.” 

Harry nodded, picturing how he’d pull Draco into his lap so they could share the rocking chair, how Draco would fuss but ultimately settle his long limbs and nuzzle into Harry’s neck. 

There were worse ways to spend an evening.

<<previous microfic>>

#booktopus writes #drarry #drarry microfic #happy birthday blue! #all the nice things for blue #💙 #norberta the dragon #dragon tamer

[kiraman]

We aren't here to eat, we are being eaten. Come, pretty girl. Let us devour our lives.

#blue eye samurai #mizu x akemi #Happy valentine's day 💌 wish I had time to write but not today loves 💙 #mizemi #blood cw/ #The top screen cap akemi staring in rapt awe at Mizu walking away after obliterating a small army herself then promptly handing Hamata #over to kaji and her girls to get their revenge!!! #The look of astonished shock and betrayal when she says take her because she thought Mizu is honourable and strong and :( #SCREAMS at Mizu's face in perpetual Rage Mode. #besedit* #i want to be great

[black-salt-cage]

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

#💙 sugar life posting 🌙 #typewriters #writing #stimblr #stimming #stimmy #stim #black #white #gifsets #gifs #scary #creepy #horrorcore #scarycore #horror #creepycore #blue #red

[zarvasace]

I wrote this thingy on here a little less than a month ago, and have decided to expand it just a little. This is all @vagueandominousvibes 's fault. (with love.)

Nayru's Thorns

T for some heaviness, 3k, chapter 1/2

Danger is coming to the kingdom of Hyrule. As its prince, Red has the power to help, but only if he gives up the chance he had with Blue.

#my writing #four swords #red x blue #:) #is that the tag #i still dont know #fsa red #fsa blue #HI KALH #HOPE YOURE GOOD #and hope you dont feel pressured to respond! #❤️💙 #still isnt a ship i consider mine #but dang you its growing on me

[blueisquitetired]

And finally- a sneak peak of chapter three tomorrow!

A few things to note:

-Stolen Pearl Clan uniform that only gets washed when she does

-No shoes. Ever.

-Hair cut? Never heard of her.

-Not only has living among ghosts made her hair white, it’s also made it verrrrrrrry floaty!

Chapter five she gets a hair cut and a change of clothes so I wanted to show her like this while I still can!

#blue’s art #feralinhisuiau #akari pokemon #bergmite #hisuian zorua #zorua #Chapter 3 of Feral in Hisui #coming tomorrow #no colors because I would rather spend that extra energy writing chapter 4 💙