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#From readers to writers?
holy-minseok · 5 months
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We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂
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anotherdarkiboi · 7 months
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List of Astarion's Terms of Endearment
This is for the fanfic writers haha. Tell me if I'm missing any so can add it in!
Darling (his most used)
My love, love
My sweet
“You sweet, generous thing”, “you sweet little thing”
Lover
My dear, a dear, dear
Beautiful
Cheeky little pup
My little treat ("-with their cheeks all flushed")
Sweetie
Pet
You wicked little thing (affectionate)
"You're a sweetheart", "you sweetheart"
Delectable little pet (not directed towards Tav but it easily could be)
My friend (yay, we're his friend)
My favorite traveling companion (not a pet name but it's nice to be his favorite)
My leaking blood-bag (technically you refer to yourself as that first and he calls you his one after, but it counts)
You little scoundrel
Edit: Thank you everyone in the comments for adding the Dark Urge ones!
Bhaal-babe (I'm dead, this silly pun I swear)
My sweet, bloodthirsty friend
My precious little Bhaal-babe
My conflicted villain
My dagger-happy friend
Bonus: Ascended Yandere Astarion
My pet, pet
Little love
Precious thing
My treasure
My consort, My Dark Consort
My favorite spawn
Insolent little- (the Dev's notes say that the full line is "you insolent little brat" which, um...)
Insolent little pup (the line was in EA, although I’m not entirely sure if it’s Ascended Astarion. Full line: “you are an insolent little pup, aren’t you?”)
"You ingrate" (When you try to break up with him. It's not really a pet name, but-)
"Property I cherish, but still my property" (his thoughts)
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astralnymphh · 2 months
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CALLING ALL FANFICTION AUTHORS!
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please reblog this. i've talked about this twice before, but obviously not everyone has seen it. i am calling for anyone who writes fanfiction or posts about a certain game/show/universe in any connective manner to please, please- PLEASE, copy this memo below comprising links to supporting palestine, education on the situation in gaza, and a must-need for those who engage in TLOU tumblr; links regarding the creators (neil druckmann) zionism, and how the plot of tlou2 is based on the israeli occupation of palestine. i don't care if what you write seems "insignificant" or "small" in the grouping of larger fics. no. everything that is not related to palestine in any form NEEDS these links. because, when we stray away from reblogging, or writing up our own posts in support of palestine/sharing journalists stories/etc. even for a SINGLE piece of writing, we could be missing people who are unaware (which, shouldn't be the case atp, but..) and fucking especially because in these fandoms, fics are the most popular thing. not reblogs about palestine, unfortunately; there are so many fanfiction accounts who very clearly don't give a fuck about the whole situation, seeping in silence, posting fics during strikes, not taking accountability for it now, so on and so forth. please, for the love of all that is good- CALL THEM OUT! people gaining hundreds of notes, tens of reblogs, supportive comments on a post that completely disregards what is happening SO BOLDLY right now, should irk you. i swear, if i see one more fuckass "i didn't know!" apology from an author who is CONSTANTLY on tumblr, REGULARLY posting fanfiction, i'm going to fucking lose it. if you are on tumblr to begin with, being this active- you have time to reblog. actually, educating yourself and reblogging is way quicker than writing up fanfiction of any length. are you fucking kidding me? you are laughable. comical, not real, and i have nay an ounce of respect for you. ever. but besdies that; the memo. i want everyone to copy this, or make something similar. put this above your summaries, authors note, whatever comes before the writing. every post you make should link back to supporting palestine, cause you never know how many eyes it will reach. it could change a lot of things. on pc, i believe copying it completely will preserve the links, but i'm not sure if mobile will. again. do whatever you can to add it. don't be lazy. put this in ur masterlists/navigation too.
for all fanfiction authors:
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
for tlou fanfiction authors:
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
you may add what is necessary, i wanted to keep it short for attention span sakes, and to avoid people skipping it entirely, and so on. i may edit these, fix up anything, but again, if you're using them you can edit them however. as long as you are linking anything in general, that is what matters. thank you, love from aestra. from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
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duckprintspress · 1 month
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if you've got more than one, tell me which in the tags! reblog for reach and all that jazz.
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blindmagdalena · 7 months
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i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....
18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.
Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.
It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.
He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.
It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.
He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.
"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.
Yours.
Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.
You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.
He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.
He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.
"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."
Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.
He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.
Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.
"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."
Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.
Not his problem. His focus is you.
With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?
Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?
Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.
Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.
He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?
His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.
"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.
"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.
"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"
Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."
His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."
"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.
Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.
They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.
"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.
He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."
"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."
That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.
"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.
"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.
He grins. "Uh oh."
In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.
Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.
"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.
"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.
He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.
The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.
"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"
You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.
"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.
"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.
He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."
Fuck. Yes, that he can do.
You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.
"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."
Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.
Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.
No one will ever take you away from him.
His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."
"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."
He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.
If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.
He needs you to survive him.
"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."
Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.
"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.
"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,
"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.
"One..."
One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.
He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.
When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.
Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.
"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.
He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."
The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.
"I love you," you mumble sweetly.
Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.
You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.
Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.
Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.
No force in this would can keep him from you.
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cosmicstarlatte · 5 months
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Thirst/comfort???? How about Luci about to have sex with reader (their first time) and they cant at all relax? They're really tense and shaky because they know its gonna hurt. (Luci comforting reader during the whole thing? i dont know if this counts as a thirst)
-🍊Oranchi🍊
18+ nsfw headcanon // minors do not interact
Omg 😩💕!!!
Lucifer is a caretaker at heart and that extends to the bedroom. Depending on what u want huehue 😏
He knows if it's done right, it shouldn't be that painful. Of course he knows everyone is different but he assures you that he will try to make it the least painful as possible, 'slow and steady' is how it'll be done he tells you when he sees how nervous you are.
He would be so soft and sweet, he loves you and he wouldn't do anything to harm you. He would check in on you frequently through out the whole session. He'd be so gentle, praising you when he can.
"Look at how well you're taking my fingers already."
He'd press soft tender kisses to your face and neck as his warm lubed up fingers gently finger fuck you. He'd murmur a small "we can stop anytime you're uncomfortable my little lamb."
He will make sure you're as comfortable as you can be. After all, and perhaps there's some selfishness here, it'd hurt his pride if you didn't enjoy your first time with him.
"Mm...doing so good. The tip is already in, how are you feeling?" He asks and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.
"Oh my little lamb wants more? Very well then." ⬦
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also someone requested a virgin mc version of this back in june and I've been sitting on it ever since. perhaps I should continue to work on it?🫣
Lucifers part is actually done and idk if I wanna release that by itself or not in case I don't actually finish it... Decisions of an amateur writer. 😔
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You wanna know what I'm surprised I haven't seen more of? Bard Tavs serenading Astarion, or singing him to sleep with a lullaby composed just for him. I'm sure Astarion would eat up all that affection.
This is so cute omg. And also managed to be an actual drabble instead of a novel! As always cw for spoilers!
~
Astarion woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically looked around. But he wasn't in Cazador's torture room. No, instead he was at the Elfsong, safe and sound in a private room. It had been another nightmare, a typical occurrence as of late.
Atarion had assumed that those would stop after the monster was dead, but they seemed to be more frequent than ever. It felt unfair. He had won. Cazador was dead, by his own hand. There was nothing left to fear. Well... that wasn't including the tadpole still trapped in his lover's skull, not to mention his own. And the Elder Brain. And the cult of Bhaal. But in all honesty, all of that felt so small now with his slave master disintegrated. If he could do what had felt impossible, what had been impossible, for centuries, why couldn't he accomplish the rest?
Astarion groaned as he sat up, realizing for the first time that he was alone in bed. But luckily enough you hadn't gone far. He turned to find you sitting on the window sill, illuminated by the moonlight as you scribbled away in your journal.
You glanced over at the sound of his shuffling, your brow furrowed, "Star? Why are you still awake?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Astarion sighed, the coldness of your side of the bed coming into full perspective. He would like that fixed sooner than later, "Now come back to me, it's cold."
You smiled, slipping down from your perch to join him in bed. Astarion wasn't quite sure when such simple actions would stop making him melt like an infatuated teenager. He was starting to think that it would never come to an end.
You laughed softly as he immediately wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest, "You know how I love to sleep in fits and starts. But you don't exactly have the same excuse, do you? You look so tired lately."
Astarion frowned, loathing the fact that his lack of sleep had become so obvious. But then again, if anyone was going to be familiar with his night terrors, it would be you. He sighed, "Just nightmares. Nothing you haven't heard before."
You frowned, "That doesn't make them pleasant."
"No," Astarion laughed softly, "It doesn't. But now it's your turn. What were you up to in the middle of the night?"
"Just some writing. I've been working on a few things."
"Like what?" Astarion asked, sincerely curious. You were quite the talent as a bard, a fact that he was aware of before he fell in love with you.
"A new ballad mostly, with a lullaby on the side."
That sounded well within your wheel house, though this was the first time he'd heard of you writing a lullaby, "What inspired that?"
"You," You said simply, "But I know how you get when I'm all mushy, so I kept it to myself for now."
Astarion hadn't expected that, but that massive smile that broke out on his face at the news wasn't a surprise. He kissed the top of your head, still smiling to himself, "I don't recall ever saying I disliked you being a sickening romantic. Can I hear it?"
You looked up at him, surprised for some reason. Which was frankly silly. Who wouldn't want to hear a song written about them from the person they loved most? For once in his life Astarion was being the normal one here.
"You want me to sing to you?" You asked, sitting up in bed to smile down at him.
Astarion grinned back, "I wouldn't object to it."
"Well in that case..."
And then you started to sing. Astarion adored the sound of your voice, and apparently he loved it even more when you were singing about him.
Little star, so bright and fierce,
Beautiful with eyes that pierce,
But that's not all there is,
He's strong and swift with perfect lips to kiss, a humor that is only his,
Charming and witty, a wish come true,
If only the rest of the world knew.
Astarion wasn't quite sure when he fell asleep that night, but it was to the sound of your sweet, melodious voice and with a smile plastered to his face.
And for the first time in days, he didn't have a single nightmare.
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luvit · 1 month
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hey cod readers/writers just an fyi, if you do this then that's extremely disrespectful to copy/paste someone's work and change it because you didn't like it. i understand that the cod fandom is more heavily catering to an afab/fem audience and finding gender-neutral or male!reader is very difficult, but do not do this to as a "solution" to this lack of inclusivity. find someone who takes those types of requests, filter your tags and content properly, block writers you don't want to see fem works from, and follow writers who better cater to your interests. and if you can't find that? write your own fics. don't plagiarize someone's work because you couldn't be bothered.
and the kicker is? they tagged:
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** 2/27 - i have made some edits to this post because now this user has started harassing blogs (as they have done in the past), and are continuing this behavior. it has come to light that they also edit fics that they think are "too boring" for them, which is even more insulting to unknowing writers in this fandom. please read more to see some other posts made about this, especially the user and their alt accounts they use to circumvent when writers (not just fem aligned) have blocked them due to their grievances with them.
edit: they have deleted that post where they so proudly admit to this plagiarizing, but have not shown any reflection or remorse for their actions 🤷‍♀️
edit 2: if you have an issue regarding my tags or about plagiarism vs personal use, i've addressed it here. if you have a better suggestion for tags, kindly let me know. these were the tags i personally felt applied to the audience and situation involved.
edit 3: since this user has decided to start harassing users, myself included, and still thinks that plagiarism is okay, i have decided to officially address them. they have created many side blogs to regain access to content from people who have blocked them. please read HERE to see their blog and alts they use to keep up this behavior.
edit 4: i've gotten a couple responses stating that private/personal use may not be considered plagiarism. no hate to anyone, this is totally a valid debate! there is no clear answer here and i don't think there are any sources that will give you anything definitive. if there are, please send some my way. i'd love to check them out. that being said, i personally do think that this counts as plagiarism even if it's private use. it's unauthorized taking and use of someone's intellectual property. the thing is, here they've now made it public that they are doing this. this might be what constitutes it as actual plagiarism since they are making it known that they are taking works and editing them without the author's knowledge or consent. there is no proof of the existence of these documents, but that is a very shocking statement to (very proudly) make. especially since this is someone who plans to be a writer in the cod fandom.
for full context, here is the full screenshot (they have since deleted the post and changed their url to @/casual-homosexual-enthusiast):
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averagewosoenthusiast · 3 months
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I hate the way I can’t hate you.
Ona Batlle x Reader.
Warnings: Angst, swearing, verbal arguments.
******
When you played for Levante, you met a girl. The most perfect girl in the world, to you, at least. Ona Batlle. She was kind, caring, considerate; her eyes were brown and reminded you of quiet fall nights. Her jaw was sharp and her mousy brown hair was always tied back in a plait.
Her personality was one of the best you had ever seen. She had the ability to care so fiercely for others while also keeping a level head, she was always soft spoken and polite but also charismatic and humorous. She was possibly the most humble person you had ever met, too.
You may have been young, but you were sure as hell in love.
And you don't think you've been able to love quite right ever since she broke your heart.
You started out at Levante together, you played football together, studied for school together. You trained together, lived together, ate together, went to the gym together. You were attached at the hip. So when her departure to Manchester United was announced, it was saddening. But you made your peace with it.
You had both decided you were going to make it work. You had too.
Ona, for a long time, was the only constant in your life. Your family and home life had never been particularly stable or good. You hadn't come from riches or fame. You had to work hard to get where you were today. And you continued to.
When you first went pro, you promised yourself you weren't going to let relationships get in the way of your career, but somehow Ona managed to break down your walls and your tough facade. Simply by being her.
She was a part of your heart. So when she suddenly ended things half way into her first season at United, a part of your heart died.
She did it over text.
Text.
To say you were heartbroken was an understatement. It felt as though a piece of you had fallen away, crumbled as you read those words. The words you had hoped to never hear. The words you never thought you would hear.
And so you needed to get away, from everything Ona. From anything that reminded you of her. And that meant leaving the only other constant in your life, Levante.
Plenty of things have changed recently, you thought, what's one more?
And it was difficult, but eventually you settled into Real Madrid. Content with only seeing her at Champions League matches, or in national friendlies where you would have to play alongside her.
You were content, but never quite happy.
You had had many failed talking stages and one night stands, often random women from bars. You always left before they even got the chance to stirr awake, leaving their bed cold and empty. Although you always felt guilty after, you continued with it. It was what worked.
You didn't fall in love, you weren't sure you could. And leaving before they could wake was the best way to get away from the situation, preventing yourself from catching even the slightest hint of feeling for them. Wether it was because you were still holding out some hope she'd come back, or because you simply didn't want a relationship; you weren't sure.
You couldn't truly love anyone again. You couldn't let yourself truly love anyone again. Ona had broken you, and wether it was for the better or the worse you didn't know. But you had a strong feeling it wasn't for the better.
A piece of you left with Ona the day she broke things off. You were confused, young and alone at the time. In a way you still were, you hadn't quite shed yourself of your previous naïvety.
But you were content at Real now.
Until Ona's transfer to Barcelona was announced.
It was something Ona had always dreamed about, going back to Barcelona. She’d tell you, “That club made me. They’re my home. And I promise you one day I’ll go back, with you,”
She'd say it with a smirk so charming and sweet you couldn't resist but to play into her fantasies. You would stay up all night talking to each other about everything you would do at Barcelona, how you would revolutionise the defending line.
Obviously that fell through. You went to Real Madrid instead, and you had always told yourself it was out of the need to leave; but you're fairly convinced you did it out of spite.
You felt your newly constructed life crumble around you the day you saw the news on instagram. You knew she was going to come back to Spain eventually, just like she had always planned. But you didn't think it would be this soon. She seemed happy at United.
Just your luck though, right?
Although the feelings you experienced when you saw the news alone at home was nothing compared to what you felt when you shook hands with her and met those beautiful brown eyes you thought were in your past again.
The same soft hands that had held you after harsh losses or great wins at Levante.
You never thought you'd hear her voice again. See her more often than you had to.
That match you kept your head down and did your job. And it paid off, Madrid won 3-2. Immediately after, you left for the locker rooms. But you heard the clacking of studs behind you and immediately knew who it was.
Ona. The love of your life Ona. The one who broke up with you without an explanation and over text Ona. The girl who you met when you were just a naïve young adult and had fallen in love with, was there. Stood before you, her big brown eyes glistening with unshed tears while yours were already streaming down your cheeks.
"Y/N." Her voice cracked. You winced and more tears fell, it took everything in you to not turn into a fit of sobs and cries right there and then.
"Batlle." You replied. Your voice was harsh and cold, albeit a little shaky and a tear fell down her cheek and her lip quivered as she sniffed. You fought back the urge to reach out and wipe her tears away.
"Y/N I need to explain myself, por favor." She pleaded. You felt like a giant dick for what you said next, but you said it anyway.
"Not a fucking chance. You broke me the day you left me, Ona. And to make matters worse? You did it over text with no fucking explanation," you paused, tears streaming faster, your voice trembling. You studied her face, searching for any sign of guilt or remorse, instead you were met with the sight of her looking to the ground.
"I need an explanation. Why, Ona? Why?" You said, your voice probably sounding needy now but you couldn't care less. Your mean facade had faded now and you shakily exhaled.
"I didn't want to hold you back," She said, her voice quiet and timid, her shoulders shaking ever so slightly as she held back her sobs.
"You didn't want to hold me back?" You repeat, she nods. Your sadness was replaced with a fiery hot rage that had been burning deep within you ever since that fateful day.
"You weren't fucking holding me back Ona! You never were! We had a system! We were fine!" You yelled, she flinched but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Too overcome with rage and anger to feel anything else.
"Y/N, please trust me when I say I didn't want to, but I knew I was holding you back, you were holding out for an offer from United, or Barca. I could tell-" you cut her off
"Did you ever fucking consider I was just happy at Levante?! I was captain for fucks sakes, Ona! I didn't want to leave that! I left because of you, I needed to get away from everything you!" You yelled, tears streaming down your face as Ona tilted her head back, wiping at her eyes.
"Y/N, I was right to do what I did. I mean, look at you! You're a star player for Madrid.." her voice broke again as she gestured to your grass stained Real kit.
"Right to do what you did?!" you screamed, she tilted her head to the side and shut her eyes, her lip quivering and her breathing shaky.
"I loved you, Ona! I still fucking do! I think I always will! Could you not have at least spoken to me first? Asked me if I needed space? Rather than breaking my heart and leaving me confused and trying to pick up the pieces for years?!" your anger had faded, the rage inside you simmering down now. Your upset and disappointment replacing the fury.
"Y/N-" she was cut off by you again.
"I hated you, you know?" you got out through gritted teeth, meeting her eyes as they widen and she stifled a choked sob, "Sometimes I think I still do. I hated the way everything reminded me of you. I hate the way I can't view fall the same as I used to anymore because it reminds me of your fucking eyes. But most of all, Ona?"
She looks at you, her brows furrowed and her lips tightly pressed together as they trembled while her shoulders shook ever so subtly as she suppressed her sobs.
"I hate the way I can't ever truly hate you."
And that was all it took, she broke down, mumbling apologies. But it was too late. You had retreated into your locker room, leaving Ona's Barcelona teammates to collect her.
You needed to heal. And now you had an explanation and closure, you finally could.
And the first step in that is letting go of the thing that hurt you the most. And for you, that just so happened to be the love of your goddamn life.
But it didn't matter. You would get through it.
***
Hi! Sorry. This was very sad, I was just in an angsty kinda mood haha. Also! English is not my first language so please feel free to correct my grammar lol. Hope you're all having a good day, night or afternoon and staying hydrated.
Yours truly,
author :)
241 notes · View notes
xratwriterx · 9 days
Text
Lucifer Morningstar, the ruler of hell with way too much time on his hands.
Lucifer Morningstar, who bumps into you at a coffee shop while dressed up in a silly little disguise that you found cute.
Lucifer Morningstar, who takes you out on a date thinking you don't know who he really is thanks to his disguise (it's blatantly obvious).
Lucifer Morningstar, who hand-crafts a rubber duck just for you.
Lucifer Morningstar, who always manages to make you laugh with his dorky shenanigans.
Lucifer Morningstar, who always pays the bill no matter how much you insist you two should split it.
Lucifer Morningstar, who takes you out for something truly romantic, like an opera or a sunset on the beach.
Lucifer Morningstar, who functions by the sidewalk rule as he leads you around town.
Lucifer Morningstar, who buys you that dress that you've always wanted on a whim.
Lucifer Morningstar, who takes you to his palace after a long night of fun.
Lucifer Morningstar, who puts on some music and shows you how to dance.
Lucifer Morningstar, who lets the dance turn into a kiss, and then something more.
Lucifer Morningstar, who is deceptively strong for his size.
Lucifer Morningstar, who pins you down and wraps his arms around your thighs as his long snake-like tongue buries itself inside of you.
Lucifer Morningstar, who would kneel between your legs and eat you out for hours if you let him.
Lucifer Morningstar, who isn't ashamed to whimper and groan as he thrusts deeper and harder.
Lucifer Morningstar, who just can't stop saying your name as he fucks you.
Lucifer Morningstar, who playfully nibbles along your neck after finishing inside you.
Lucifer Morningstar, who immediately runs a hot, bubbly bath for you after giving you the best sex you've ever had.
Lucifer Morningstar, who holds you in the warm water and worships your body as he cleans it.
Lucifer Morningstar, who wants nothing more than to appreciate you for being the most stunning demon he's ever seen...
143 notes · View notes
angelizs · 1 year
Text
[Club Activities - part 2]
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Summary: Crowley keeps knocking at your door, quite literally, wanting to hear your club choice. You might as well get this over with.
Notes: gn!reader, humor, it's kinda long, reader is oblivious, mentions of minor injuries but in a funny way dw, it's the looong overdue pt2
Part: 1.0 / 2 (you're here!) / 2.5 (soon!)
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"So, have you decided?"
Crowley stands by the doorway. He looks completely normal, a pleasant smile plastered on his lips. You blink, sluggish, resisting the urge to slam the door on his face.
"It's five a.m. on a sunday."
"Yes, that's correct, good to see you're keeping up with the passage of time."
You feel there's a jab aimed at you for taking your time on choosing a club. Or on answering the door. In your defense, Grim was sleeping on top of you and you didn't want to disturb his sleep. Nor yours. You were hoping the Headmaster would just give up and leave you alone, but instead he only knocked louder. 
"Well?"
"Uh..." You take a bit to remember the first thing he said. "No, I still have some meetings to go to."
"Were the sports clubs not to your liking? I'm sure you'd do well in one, should you put your efforts on it."
"Nah, I'll pass."
"I see. Then, you'll tell me your decision by the end of the week, yes?"
"Since when did we agree on this." It was a question, but with your drowsy state it just fell flat.
"Since now, of course! I was very kind to let you take so much time to chose a club, but you must understand I'm under some pressure as well to make sure you'll have the best possible education here. We can't afford to lose too much time!"
You blink again, your brain still sleepy. "Oh. Alright."
Crowley claps his hands in an excited manner. "Wonderful! I'll be eagerly waiting for your decision, then!"
Only as you watch his retreating back getting farther away that it finally registers just what you agreed on. You groan, closing the door and leaning against it.
Well, nothing to do about it now. You should really get onto it, anyway. Still, your break will be missed.
Film Research Club (Vil, Ortho platonically)
You had finally left the sports clubs behind, time to try something new, like arts!
Since you've worked with Vil at the SDC, you were already used to his strict personality and thought you'd be able to handle yourself pretty well. You might not have that much experience with acting but you did know how to pretend everything was ok and your life wasn't falling apart, so you think you might have potential.
It was quite surprising to see Ortho there, but the sight of your friend's welcoming eyes and cheer made you feel relieved, relaxing amidst the Pomefiore students. They were intimidating, though in a different way the guys from the Spelldrive club were. The latter looked like they could easily beat you to a pulp, while the former looked like they'd give you a disgusted stare and call you a peasant in such a condescending tone you'd implode on spot. They were all very pretty as well, but you wouldn't let that make you self conscious since you knew no one could beat Vil anyway.
Speaking of, Vil himself comes to speak with you and explain about the club with a professional conduct as he says that Crowley had warned him of your special situation and that he'd let you help out, since they always needed extra hands on deck. You got hopeful at that, perhaps it was time for you to shine and discover a hiden talent of yours! These daydreams are soon crushed as Vil puts you on backstage duty and turns around, having something or other to talk about with the other members.
Well. That was... not what you were expecting. Ortho explains that in order to enter the club as an actor, you must audition beforehand and prove yourself worthy. That makes sense, you guess, so you accept it with grace. Backstage work might not be as exciting as being on the actual stage, but you had Ortho by your side to make sure things won't be too dull. And a side of you wants to make Vil proud of your work, so you suck it up and ask Ortho to lead the way.
Ortho shows you around the set you'll be working on for the day. It's one of Pomefiore's dorm ballrooms, and it's huge. You look in awe at everything, even though it's a bit plain in terms of furniture, it's quite detailed. In moments like this you remember Pomefiore's dorm is a castle, as you feel the royalty emanating from the ceiling, with it's luxurious chandeliers, to the walls, with it's intricate golden patterns, even at the floor, by it's quality.
He teaches you how to operate the lights and sound for a bit while the actors decide on what they'll film that day. You feel just the tiniest bit of jealousy at them, especially because Vil seems to be very focused on everything they say. Ortho must notice this (of course he would), and tries to cheer you up. After all, you're his friend! He doesn't want you to feel bored at the club when there are so many insteresting things to do!
You move from the more technical parts and go to the storage room, where they keep most of the props and extra accessories. You explore it, looking at everything but not touching, not wanting to get in trouble if you break anything on accident. As you're looking at an old mirror, Ortho picks up one of the pink cowboy hats and puts it on your head. It looks goofy, not matching with your uniform at all, and it makes you laugh.
You retaliate by putting a pirate hat full of colorful feathers that's way too big on him. It slides down and covers his eyes, making him look like a little kid trying on their sibling's clothes. Not to mention the feathers, that also clash with his body's design. You both laugh and go to different directions, trying to find more things to put on.
Ortho ends up with a vivid red sash wrapped around his waist and a wooden rod in hands, while you've got a pink feather scarf around your neck and a hollow steel rod in hands. You stare down at each other from your sides of the room, pretending you're on one of those western cowboy movies, even acting like it too. You drawl out something about the town not being big enough for the two of you. Ortho goes along, putting up the worst pirate accent with his robotic voice and telling you to prepared to be boarded.
Between giggles, the two of you meet at the middle, your rods clashing as if they were swords. You make exaggerated moviments that would be impratical in any fight while dropping the most cliche lines you can think of. Ortho dodges your attacks in slow motion and retributes with his own, making it seem more like some funny dance than a sword fight.
You were having so much fun you kind of forgot you were there to do a job. You're quickly reminded as the door suddenly opens and you, startled, let the steel rod slip from your hands mid attack and hit the wall with a loud clang. There stands Vil, hands on his hips as he stares at the two of you with one arched eyebrow, an unimpressed look on his face even after almost being hit right on it. You're not looking the most dignified, with your whole attire. Nor is Ortho, which helps you to not feel alone on the receiving end of Vil's judgment.
The three of you leave the props behind and return to the main area. More precisely, to the actors' dressing room part. It's not an actual separate room, but rather a space of the ballroom reserved for this. Most have put on their costumes and are adjusting the finer details, Vil instructs you to help them while he sets up the stage.
You try your best, but every actor sends you a glare as you approach them, making you turn on your heels and try another one. And another. And another. You're not feeling very helpful. How you wish you could just ignore it like Ortho does. The only thing you actually do is helping zip up some clothes when they can't reach their backs and do it themselves. You don't dare to touch their hair or you feel they'd explode you with their minds. There is one instance when you have to lace a guy into a corset, but you get a bit confused with all the laces. Maybe it's like tying a shoe? You pull on it with too much force at first, leading him to complain at you the entire time. In your defense, you've never done this before! You tie it up with a cute lace at the end to make up for it and scurry away before he could release more of his wrath upon you. You settle on following Ortho around like a lost puppy.
Finally, everyone finishes up and you move to the middle of the room, where the scene will be taking place. From what you gather, the movie they are making is about a royal family that's having their heir assume the throne, but there's a plot against him going behind the scenes. The main character seems to be corset guy, who still glares at you whenever you pass by his camp of vision, much to your (un)luck.
Ortho leads you to the first place he showed, since they'd start recording soon. You watch him work with the lights, turning them on dramatically as they start the scene and making it follow the main lead as he monologues about his woes of assuming such a big responsability and how he feels between the sea of people present. The actor does a good job, good enogh to appease Vil, who watches attentively near the camera. The thing is, he's trying to replicate a foreign accent and that, combined with his melodramatic lines, makes you have to stifle a laugh.
You try your best to stay quiet and pay attention to the story, but some of the lines and the way they dramatically deliver them sound so silly you can't help but giggle in your palm. Ortho looks at you inquisitively, tilting his head and trying to understand what you found so funny. You whisper an explanation to him, making him see the words in a different manner. As you laugh, he laughs along discretely, both of you having fun again.
Vil motions for you to keep your volume down, as to not disturb the actors and break their concentration, and you send him a thumbs up. Still, you keep on reacting, even mouthing their words with exaggerated facial expressions. Ortho seems much more interested in what you have to show than the lights, since he misses some of his cues and gets it later or sooner than intended. Which is also funny, since the confused looks on the background actors' faces are very entertaining. 
It comes to a point in which you're holding in your laughter so much you're a bit out of air, and you end up bumping into one of the controls, making the background music change suddenly, from a calm waltz to an action scenesque one. Your startled eyes meet Ortho's, and in true friendship fashion you both burst out laughing. Vil cuts the filming and strides up on you two, reprimanding you once again, and you feel like a guilty puppy being scolded by their owner. You must look like that too, since he sighs like an overworked mother and takes pity on you, deciding on something else for you to do and leave Ortho to do his job without distractions.
Vil gives you the role of an extra to play, just for you to have an idle conversation with the protagonist that won't last even five minutes. He shows you exactly how the scene should go, taking hold of your hand to conduct a dance and dropping casual chatter with you, looking you in the eyes, with a conduct that's so charming you're sure you feel your heart skip a beat (too bad it's just acting though). You feel like you can do that as well, so you hurry to change into one of the formal outfits and repeat the line Vil told you over and over again in your head, heart beating way too fast.
There is just one thing you didn't count on: you apparently have a bad case of stage fright. Or perhaps it's happening especifically because you know Vil will be watching you like a hawk. As you position yourself amidst the other extras, you feel your heartbeat accelerating and your hands start to sweat. You try to relax your tense shoulders and clear your throat, looking at the floor to steady yourself.
As your cue approaches, you move closer to the corset guy, whose attention snaps at you as soon as you enter his vision field. Even if his face looks polite, like a prince, you can feel the glare he's still sending your way, just on a more subdued level this time. You can also feel the stares of the others on your back and your tongue seems to have been tied. Your head comes up with a blank when you try to remember what Vil told you to say. Oh, this is not good. Why did this have to be so nerve wracking?
Time passes slowly, seconds feels like hours as the protagonist waits expectantly for your words. Trying to not disappoint, you blurt out a joke improvisation line, like the ones you see on movies sometimes. Unfortunately, your sense of humor is vastly different from Pomefiore's students', and the joke falls so flat everyone has to take a moment to recover. You wish for the ground to swallow you as Vil yells a "Cut!" and the other actors look judgmentally in your way. Maybe if you close your eyes it will go away? You can still hear the other's whispering, and although you don't understand what exactly they're saying, you can only guess they're mocking you. Welp, guess it's time to become a hermit at ramshackle and never show your face at school ever again!
It takes only a minute, but as soon as Vil has recomposed himself he commands everyone to be quiet. You open your eyes again, gathering all your courage to see the disappointed look on his face, but you're surprised that's not what greets you. Instead, Vil's got a nasty glare that's sharp enough to cut a man, and it's not directed at you at all! Vil procceds to reprimand the rest of the cast for being so inelegant as to make fun of a begginer and even mocks their need to feel superior. You've never felt more grateful for him in your life, maybe you can still go to classes after that, since no one will dare to mess with you and risk his wrath.
As the others look ashamed for being yelled at by their leader, Vil pulls you aside and tells you that maybe it's better to try something else if your stage fright is going to affect your performance so much. He sounds strict as always, but he has an almost soft look in his eyes as he congratulates you for trying to overcome that fear and that you did well enough for someone with no experience. You feel a lot better after that and thank him sincerely, promising to give it your all at whatever other job you can do to help! He smiles at your enthusiasm and it's as if the clouds have parted ways for the sun to shine. (The other club members look amazed, as they've never seen such a soft smile on Vil's face before.)
He then asks you if you know how to work with a camera. If taking pics with Cater to post on Magicam counts then yes, you do have some experience with it. Vil says he's got the perfect job for you: being part of the camera crew and helping to film everything. You accept, after all, how hard can it be, really?
Apparently, a lot. Vil had just left out a little detail from this job: you'd be filming the aerial angle of this scene. Which meant using Kalim's magic carpet. As you recall, you're not the most adept at riding it, flashbacks from winter vacation entering in your mind. Still, you had promised Vil you'd help on this, and you weren't sure if he'd find you another thing to do or get your complaining the wrong way, so you decide to give it a try anyway.
You wobble on it, camera propped up on your shoulder and secured by a sling strap just in case you losen your hold on it. (Which is very likely). Surprisingly, you manage to get the carpet off the ground without many complications, so things are looking up (quite literally)! And then comes the part where you have to guide it and you're almost thrown out of a window with the force it makes a turn. Your grip on it tightens and you try to wrestle it into submission, with little success.
Things procced like this, you trying to learn how to drive the carpet while making turns on the air and holding on for your life. (And making sure the camera is safe. You don't want a repeat of the chandelier accident from the start of the year, so you're not taking any chances). Anything you might have tried to film is probably so shaky and blurry it isn't even usable, but you have more important matters to worry about.
That goes on until you make a particularly sharp turn, causing the carpet to lose control and go spiraling straight to the floor. Luckly, you manage to land on a convenientely placed couch (has that been there before?) and doesn't get much hurt. You're clutching the camera to your chest in a protective manner, so it isn't damaged either. At least, not much, but it isn't anything the Ignihyde guys can't fix.
Vil and Ortho are by your side in an instant, asking if you're alright. Vil extends his hand and pulls you up like a gentleman, fixing your hair softly. He's really close to your face and you can feel your heart beating faster, though you're not sure if it's due to that or the adrenaline of the fall. Ortho reassures you that not even him got the hang of piloting the carpet, as it seems to only actually obey Kalim, and that you did your best!
You really did try, so you can safely say you won't discover any hidden acting talent any time soon. Time to check out other clubs. 
(Ortho tells you to drop by another time at practice and watch the recording with him, since he had a lot of fun! Vil tells you that should you wish and work hard for it, you may have potential and he'd be willing to help you reach it. You agree, since it was very nice to visit and, most of all, to get to see Vil on his element like this. There's an added bonus of you not having ended up at the infirmary as well, which is enough to put the club on a positive light in your books. It's a bit sad that's the standard, but oh well, nothing to do about it.)
Science Club (Trey, Rook)
Alright, art may not be for you, but maybe science is! Or... whatever it is that they do in this club.
It's a bit intimidating since there are way too many people there, more than you've seen in any other club. What could they possibly be doing to attract this many people?
Rook, as observant as ever, notices you before you've even set foot inside the lab, coming close to greet you and ask if you were going to join them for the day. You relutanctly agree, staying close to his side as he leads you deeper into the room, opening the path. You make sure to not bump into anyone and cause an accident.
Trey is at one of the work tables at the back, sharing it with Rook. He sends a calming smile your way and explains that it's a club with a vast variety of activities, as long as they're not of the physical sort. You sigh in relief, listening to him reciting things such as plant cultivation and chemistry experiments. You already have to do those things on your regular classes, so you're confident in your ability of succeding for once. Rook adds that this flexibility in activity has attracted many people, creating a beauté diversity of members. (Trey explains that there's a lot of odd people as he side eyes Rook).
You sit with them, since you don't know anyone else. Rook goes on about the experiment he'll be doing this time, something that will leave a beautiful impact and stay on the mind of anyone looking. It sounds a lot like what happens when you partner up with Ace and Deuce at alchemy class, that is, stuff is about to be blown up. You scoot closer to Trey.
Taking pity on you, Trey reminds Rook that there's an ingredient missing, since they had used all from the lab's storage on their last class, and offers to get it at the botanical garden for him, inviting you to come along. You jump at the opportunity, agreeing and getting up to follow him. Rook thanks his generosity and explains that there's no way a gentleman like him would leave all the hard work onto the two of you, so he follows along. Trey looks a bit annoyed, but you only wanted to get out of being roped into a crazy experiment so you don't mind much, as long as you keep Rook away from any potential explosive plants.
The fresh air from the gardens is much better than the stuffy feeling from the crowded lab, and you take a deep breath to appreciate it. Trey takes you to the temperate zone, the path filled with beautiful flowers of all colors and scents. The sound of the little river below you only adds to the pleasant atmosphere, the sun rays warming up your skin and soul. It's wonderful. You'd like it if your club classes were to take place there. It might be enough to convince you to join, the nature so full of life energizing your mood, a smile blooming on your face.
You pass by an area that has thicker vegetation and stands out from the whole, attracting your curiosity, so you ask Trey what could be there. He warns you to not wander to that side of the garden, as there were carnivorous plants being cultivated by the third years. You wave him off, saying you had those back in your world and they were pretty harmless. Trey looks at you in doubt, but decides to not question it, aceptting your answer and going back to his search for the missing ingredient. 
Since you have no idea what you should be looking for, you leave the boys to it, deciding to observe the flowers instead. Distracted, you end up getting farther away from them, the flora enticing you and putting you under a spell, demanding your attention. It's not until you bump into a tall... something, that you realize how far you had gone. You lift up your head, wondering if you had bumped into a tree, only to find two open hinged lobes dripping with sap closing on your face.
A scream gets caught in your throat as you take in the gigantic carnivorous plant in front of you, that's only coming closer. You didn't know that when Trey had mentioned them, he didn't explain that they aren't like the one from your world at all. Not only were they huge, but also seemed ready to eat a human at any given chance.
You're pulled by someone behind you, falling into a secure chest and feeling strong arms embracing your waist as the plant's jaw's close into the air where you were just a second ago. The sigh you let out shakes your whole body and you let your weight be supported by your saviour. You find out his identity soon enough, as a familiar voice by your ear calls you chéri and asks if you were fine.
After thanking Rook, he guides you to the main area of the garden with a protective hand behind your back, making sure you wouldn't stumble into any more potential dangerous plants, as he goes on about how they were "the hunters of the natural world" and how "such danger has it's own alluring charm, non?" You don't catch the glint in his eyes as he asks the question, too busy trying to get your heart beat back into a normal rhythm. 
Trey scolds you lightly for ignoring his advice, but he seems busier trying to equilibrate the plants he harvested in his arms and glaring at Rook, probably for leaving him alone to do all the work. Rook stays unbothered, putting his hands on your shoulders and staying close as he directs you to the exit, his usual smile stamped on his face.
As you put the fresh ingredients near the others that Rook had selected earlier, you notice some strawberries in the mix. You shot a questioning stare at Trey, making him laugh and explain he took the chance to harvest some of his hand grown special strawberries. He takes some from your hands, brushing your fingers together before lifting them up to inspect closely. The strawberries are a beautiful shade of red, making you salivate only by looking at them. Trey has a contemplative expression as he murmurs he should use them as soon as possible in order to make the best use of their ripeness.
You suggest him to make a strawberry tart with them and offers your help, on the light price of getting to eat it as well. He smiles and agrees to your proposal, telling you to follow him to the kitchens. You do, happily so as you carry some of the strawberries in your arms, leaving Rook to take care of the potions experiment. Really, you feel like you've killed two birds with one stone, so you pat yourself on the back for doing a good job.
Back at the first month of classes, you remember cooking with Trey, Ace, Deuce and Grim, and how much fun you had, despite the circumstances. With the group reduced to two, it might be more toilsome, but you were confident it would be worth it.
Trey finds an extra apron for you, tying it himself to make sure it would stay in place. He gently explains the steps to prepare the ingredients, helping you whenever you didn't understand something. It was quite nice, seeing Trey look so in his element, an unconscious soft expression on his face, as if he was enjoying himself. It's domestic, even, how you dance around each other in the kitchen, passing bowls and cutlery back and forth. He is good humored as he recalls stories from the club, making you laugh whenever he bemoans Rook's experiments.
The stories he tells are very captivating, so much so that you don't look at the recipe book, doing the steps on automatic. Once or twice you almost spill what you were mixing or use too much force to cut something, but it's salvageable every time, so you don't comment on it. You leave the crust on the oven for a bit too much, but it's only slightly charred, so you're pretty sure it's still edible. One of the flour bags slips from your hands and falls on the sink, covering your face in flour powder. Trey helps you clean up, but he's laughing at you and your now white hair. It comes to the point in which you're mixing the crème pâtissière and you get too close to the stove, making the ends of your sleeves to catch on fire. Trey quickly puts it out and runs your arm under cold water. The crème ends up a bit too lumpy, since neither of you were stirring it for a while, but it's not too bad.
Alright, maybe you're not the best at cooking. Still, arranging the strawberries in a circle on top of the tart was pretty fun. The last thing left to do is to let it cool. You lick your lips thinking about eating it once it's ready. You're about to help Trey clean the mess you've made in the kitchen when Rook bursts through the door, looking excited. He tells you there's no time to explain and takes you by the hand, dragging you back to the laboratory. You send Trey your best regards and wish him luck in cleaning everything alone. He sends you a pitying look back.
You should wish yourself some luck as well, since the motive for Rook to have brought you to the lab was for you to help him with the new formula he thought for his experiment. He explains that the one he was trying didn't have it's desired effects, as you could clearly see from the scorch marks on the table you were sitting before. He says that for the new formula, he'll need help to get the ingredients prepared and handed over, since he couldn't stop stirring it until everything was added in. You don't know how he came up with this solution, and honestly? You don't want to know.
Having no other choice, you agree to help him. He reminds you to put your gloves and safety googles on before starting, making a comment on how your cute apron would do as your lab coat. After getting into place, you follow all of Rook's instructions, preparing and handing over the ingredients he asks for. You have no idea what it is that he's going for, as your potions classes are still on a basic and more theorical level, but you decide to trust that he, as your upperclassman, knows what he's doing.
Dread pools on your gut as you watch the ingredients going into the cauldron. There's a hissing sound and bubbles emerge from the deep purple concotion. You have no time to react as Rook thows his arm in front of you just in time for the explosion to take place. You grip onto the table tightly and manage to stay upright, thanking the Sevens for your safety googles. If it were not for them, your entire face would be covered in a sparkling purple powder, some getting into your hair as well. Rook laughs and tells you that you shine bright like the sun. You look on unamused. Trey appears, having heard the explosion, and sighs, clearly being too used to this happening. He tells you and Rook to clean up as he starts to clean your mess, bless him.
Rook takes you to the nearest bathroom available, both of you trying to wash the explosion's results off. It has stuck like glue, and you have to splash your face with the cold water over and over for it to go away. You think there's still some of it on your hair, but can't bring yourself to care much. The apron wasn't enough to cover your body, so your clothes weren't spared either. Rook doesn't comment on it, but you can see him looking at you funny by the corner of your eye.
As you enter the lab, you see that the students that stayed after the first explosion had left. Rook wonders out loud on why they didn't like the innovation of his experiment, sighing as he goes on about the beauty of curiosity. You and Trey exchange glances as you clean everything together. You feel like you stayed way past the club's scheduled time and your arms hurt from moping the floor. At least you get to share your wonky strawberry tart. It doesn't taste as good as Trey's usual ones do, but you like it. You can't decide if it was worth all the trouble though.
Grim laughs at you once you get back to Ramshackle, your face is itching for the rest of the day, there's some sparkles in your hair for the rest of the week, your slightly burnt arm won't stop aching, you sent your clothes' laundry bill for Rook to pay. As much as you respect scientific advances, you feel that being involved in the research isn't for you (nor the cooking). Time to check out other clubs.
(Rook keeps approaching you at the halls to update you on how he's thought of possible changes to make the potion work. Trey comments he liked having company in the kitchen and help for cleaning up for once. They aren't very subtle. You don't even have to agree to visit the club again another time, as Rook has already volunteered you as his lab assistant and Trey has gifted you a recipe book with markings on which recipes you'll try to bake next. Guess you have no other choice but to go back now.)
Pop Music Club (Cater, Kalim, Lilia)
And back to the arts you go. But this time, instead of performing, how about playing some music? Joining the school band might be fun!
You're surprised to only find three people in the club. All the others had a bunch of people, but in this one, once you enter the classroom you're met with three of your friends hanging out in a couch. Why was there a couch in this classroom in the first place!?
It's not just three random people, either. It's the chillest and most extroverted people of the school, the ones that got along with everyone and were very popular. They whip their head so fast to the direction of the door once you enter you get a little worried for their necks. They seem elated to have a visitor, so you suppose this won't be so bad, even if you don't feel confident enough to play an instrument in front of other people.
Kalim jumps at you and envelops you in a big hug, a smile shining on his face as usual. Lilia pats you on the back, pushing you closer to the center of the room and welcoming you. Cater takes out his phone and takes a selfie with everyone, declaring it would go viral to have the cutest people of the school all together in one place and gushing over how many likes he'd get. They sure are a lively bunch.
Lilia plops you down on the couch, telling you to feel at home and winking. There's a center table with food containers in front of you, Kalim offers you a bite, explaining they made the snacks to bring to their club meetings, and Cater proposes to make it a culinary competition, in which you'd judge which one was the best. You were pretty sure you had left the cooking behind at the science club, what did it even had to do with music? Well, you weren't going to complain about getting free food!
Cater insists you try his first, a round tupperware with fried corn tortilla chips and guacamole in a dipping bowl at the center. It looks amazing, making your mouth water a bit. You take one of the chips, lightly lower it on the dip and take a bite. It's overall very good, the consistency and the crispness are wonderful, there's just one little problem: it's very spicy. Very spicy. Not the "oh no there's a tiny bit of spice in my otherwise bland food" type but the "my eyes are burning my thorat is burning my stomach is burning I'm going to burn from the inside out" type. And that's how you feel as you fan your face and drink the water Kalim brings you, though it only makes the burning worse, spreading it throughout your mouth and making your eyes water. Lilia appears upside down, hanging from the ceiling and scaring you, and offers you a glass of milk instead. You gratefully take it and chug it down as quick as you can.
Once you've calmed down, Lilia explains how he keeps milk around for Cater's food, that's way too spicy for his liking. Cater looks at you with puppy eyes, asking if you liked the chilli peppers he added to the recipe. You didn't, not really. It would be one thing to add some, sure, but it's like there's more pepper than anything else. You weakly smile at him and explain apologetically that it might not suit your tastes so much. Cater seems a bit down, but he only shrugs and jokingly says that not everyone can have good taste.
Kalim bounces up to you next, shoving his container in front of your face and telling you to try it. He proudly says he made it all without Jamil's help and that he hopes you'll like it. You look at the fried dumplings, remembering it's a sweet called awameh. It looks good as well, although a bit burnt, nothing that would stop you from eating it. You take one, getting surprised by how crunchy they ended up being, the sweetness exploding in your tongue. It would be very good, but you have the impression Kalim must have used the wrong measure of the ingredients. Yes, it was sweet, but it was way too sweet. Not only that, the sugar mixed with the cinnamon on the syrup also left you thirsty, as you downed another cup of water. It was like cinnamon was impregnated on your mouth, there was definetly too much.
While you accept your tongue will never be the same after the combo of strong flavours, Kalim reveals he tried to follow one of Jamil's mom's recipes for it, declaring it to be the best he's ever proved. He just got a bit confused when taking the measures for some ingredients, but he was proud of his work! You make a mental note to try to eat one of Jamil's awameh later, sure that it would taste delicious, and compliments Kalim on his efforts, suggesting gently to ask for help next time he has trouble with it.
The last one is Lilia, and you start dreading what might be hidden on his container. He seems preppy that someone will get to try his food, telling you that he's the one that cooks dinner at Diasomnia and how Silver and Sebek love his food. Cater and Kalim look at you with pity, shaking their heads. You've heard of Lilia's infamous cooking skills before, so you have to mentally prepare yourself before looking at what he prepared. It's... uh... something alright. Though it's unrecognizable, a dark glob that just looks sticky and burnt after the point. Your desperate look does nothing for Cater and Kalim to try to save you, as they look away furtively.
Aceppting your fate, you take one of the spoons Lilia brought and take the smallest bite possible while he stares at you attentively. It tastes foul, as expected, as if something had died in your mouth. You resist the urge to gag, trying to go for a smile and ending up with a grimace instead. It's horrible, there's no other way to describe it. All the rumors don't do it justice, it's way worse than what they say. You suspect you will get food poisoning later, as you down another glass of water. At least you're keeping yourself hydrated. Lilia seems to either not notice or pretend he didn't, as he keeps his cheery attitude and asks if you liked it. You nod weakly, hoping it would be enough for him to not force you to take another bite. He mercifully looks satisfied with the answer and you sigh with relief.
In the end you tell them you don't know which one was the best (you side eye Lilia's, thinking on how you knew which one was the worst at least). They don't look disappointed, content in having you prove their food as each munchs on their own snacks happily. You wonder how they manage to do it. Suddenly you miss Trey's baking and the wonky strawberry tart you've made.
As everyone sits together, Cater puts on some electropop song on the background that reminds you of the famous vocaloids from your world. You have an epiphany that Cater would listen to Hatsune Miku. You're not sure what to do with that information, staying quiet in shock as the other three talk between themselves. You remember him mentioning something like it when you went to do the SDC auditions, but you had other things to worry about and it must have slipped your mind. Once you've recomposed yourself, you ask what the food had to do with music, since the question had been burning in your mind for some time (not as much as your tongue burned tho).
They explain that the pop music club doen't really do much music, as the name suggests, they mostly just hang around to chat and chill. It has gotten them in a bit of trouble with the Headmaster, as they don't do anything that could actually be considered a club activity, causing him to have threatened to disband the club. Not to mention there's no new members for a while, no matter how much they try to attract more students. You consider joining this one just to spite Crowley. They clarify that they do play their instruments every once in a while to cover some song, but with their different music tastes they never reach an agreement on what to play most of the time.
You're curious on how they might sound as a band, sure it would be a chaotic but entertaining sight. You would ask to see this, if it was not for Cater excitedly declaring it's "gossiping time". They put on elevator music to play at the background and huddle close together, leaving a spot open for you to join their little circle, as if you were about to be in into the school's secrets. And that's exactly what happens, as the three of them seem to know about everyone and everything that goes on Night Raven College. There's so much drama you've never heard about, and you feel you know way too much about the lives of people you've never even met, but it's nice to create conspiracy theories about what would happen next in the soap opera that was other people's lives.
The topic changes to Magicam, since you were lowkey stalking the boy that had caused a ruckus in the cafeteria the past days. Cater likes his account's aesthetic, saying it passes the bad boy vibes he has, and whines about their club's magicam page. You weren't aware they even had one, so you ask to see it. It's... not what you were expecting. They might as well not have an account, since there are no photos other than their icon, which was the symbol of the club. Cater complains that they couldn't come to an agreement on how the page should look and were too lazy to try to work something out, so it has stayed like that for months.
Since you know how much he cares about this stuff, you offer your help! After all, it could be a lot of fun, and it'd feel as if you're the manager of the club. Cater lightens up with joy, throwing his arms around you and bringing you close to affectionately rub his cheeck on the top of your head, thanking you for being such a prestative underclassman. You enter your business mode, thinking on how you could go about this. It makes sense to promote the club doing something other than hanging out, so you tell them to pick up their instruments and pose.
You go around them and try many different angles. Kalim and Lilia have fun doing weird poses that makes very clear they aren't playing at all, but there's a charming genuine smile on their faces. Cater poses with his guitar like a professional, making captivating facial expressions that make even you swoon, only encouraging him to make different ones. He could be a model, you think, with how he knows all the right ways to smile at the camera and tilts his head just so to make him look cute and alluring at the same time, fingers skillfully positioned at the eletric guitar's chords, eyes lidded, hair messy deliberately, body facing forwards with confidence. He has everything to ace the rockstar persona, at least in looks.
You try taking some of them together as an unit, but none pleases you enough. There's something missing, but you can't quite put your finger on what. You give his cellphone back as you ponder about it. Cater looks through the photos, commenting how one looks "super cool~" and in the other he's "slaying". He decides it'd be a great moment to take advantage of his cuteness streak to take a photo with everyone together, yourself included. Cater drapes his arm around your shoulders and keeps you close to him, cheek coming to rest at your forehead. Kalim and Lilia make poses behind you two, laughing at how silly they look with all the filters Cater tries on. 
He ends up telling you to decide which photo looked better, as he couldn't chose just one, something like: "any photo with you would look cute, of course I can't chose!" You look through all of them, but only one gets your eyes, the only without a filter. Everyone looks genuinely happy, making your heart warm. Cater's is not looking at the camera itself, but slightly to the side, where you are, with such a soft expression you can't help but be endeared by it. It's him, not a forced smile and exaggerated pose, just Cater, happy. That's what the other pictures were missing. 
You show it to him, insisting it's the best and should be the first photo on the club's Magicam page. He pouts about the lack of filter, saying how the other ones look much cuter, but you explain that you like the real him much more than any filter, since nothing could ever come close to the real deal, no filter in the world could make him justice. You're very genuine with it too, since it's the truth. Cater stares at you, caught by surprise, and turns his face away from you, ears tinted pink, taking a minute to recompose himself, leaving you confused. Lilia looks on knowingly, smirking at him. You weren't alone in your confusion, as Kalim seemed to be just as clueless as you.
Your argument manages to convince him, though, as he soon comes up with an eye catching description and posts it, grumbling that you should be happy now. You are, actually, so you simply smile at him, giggling at his playful eye roll. Only after the picture was already posted and you entered on your own account that you notice your eyes were closed. You yelp and try to convince Cater to change it to another one, but he refuses, telling that you were the one that chose it so you should stick with it, sticking his tongue out at you in a childsh manner. You whine some more before giving up. Cater seemed really content with the choice, if the soft smile on his face as he glanced at it meant anything, so you let it be, resigning to your fate. You weren't even a member, so you hoped you wouldn't attract that much attention. (You really hoped Ace wouldn't find it, otherwise you'd never hear the end of it.)
He suddenly gets an idea to decorate the classroom to make it look more "magicamable", dragging Lilia with him to get the decorations. Lilia whispers something to him that makes him glance back at you with a red face, quickly scurrying away and leaving you and Kalim to look on in confusion. How weird, what had gotten into him? 
At that moment, the playlist shuffles, coming up with a song that has a very upkeep beat. Kalim jumps in excitement, saying that was his favorite song and he couldn't not dance to it. You can't help jumping your leg and moving your head to the beat, swaying to the contagious rhthym. Kalim notices and extends his hands in your direction, inviting you to dance with him. You know you're nowhere near his skill level and you'd look clumsy compared to his fluid moviments, but his earnestness convinces you to give it a try. You were sure he wouldn't make fun of you, so why not have a good time too?
Hand in hand, the two of you move together, not completly in sync, but in a rhythm that feels right, that's only yours. It's nice, seeing his content expression up close, foreheads almost touching, feet following the other's steps, hips swaying together. You spin once, laughing, he spins once, grinning wildly. You're lost in the trance of the hypnotizing beat of Kalim's heart.
The song gradually comes to a stop, making both of you calm down too. Kalim has one hand on your waist, the other still holding yours. You hold onto his shoulder, your noses touch, breaths coming in puffs, his eyes crinkle and it's warm, he's warm. Your chest follows his in it's rise and fall, your stomach does pirouettes, to the point you're dizzy, your cheeks feel hot. You start worrying you might have really gotten food poisoning from Lilia's cooking.
Before either of you say anything else, the sound of Cater's giggle burst your bubble, bringing you back to the real world. You whip your head to the door, watching as Lilia and Cater giggle deviously, Cater's fingers working fast on his cellphone's keyboard. You separate from Kalim's burning touch, your hands suddenly feeling cold, and stride up to them, demanding to look at what they found so funny. Lilia shows you, on his own phone, a videoclip of you and Kalim dancing together, nearing the end of the song. Your focus is initially on Kalim, as he glows, movements showing years of expertise, it's... beautiful. Then your gaze averts to yourself, and how, like you suspected, you were looking goofy near him, not matching the tempo at all.
You whine up at Cater again, asking him to delete the stories he posted, but he refuses, saying it was way too precious to miss. You lightly hit his chest and look up your lashes at him, pouting. His teasing expression falters, as if you were on the brink of convincing him. Lilia pulls you away and explains it was only on close friends anyway, so you needn't worry about the whole school seeing it. Kalim agrees that the video is very nice, beaming as he watches you two having fun. You sigh and give up, not having the heart to be a killjoy.
Lilia and Cater's hands are empty of any decorations, so you question them about it. Cater frowns exaggeratedly, drowning on dramatically on how they couldn't find any and how it was such a pity. Lilia covers his hand to hide a giggle, only making the action more obvious. Cater glares at him subtly. Kalim notices how the club's reserved time is almost coming to an end, deciding that to make a grand finale you should play an instrument, after all they should at least pretend they did something club related for you to report back to the Headmaster. And it'd be a lot of fun for you to play with them!
Lilia claps his hands together, agreeing it would be a most gleeful experience. He insists on teaching you how to play the bass, not wanting to hear whether you already knew how to or not. He gives you the instrument and shows how to hold it in the right way, trying to teach a few chords. It's a bit difficult to understand the confusing terms he uses, so he sighs and comes behind you, taking your hands in his and doing the movements, pressing his chest against your back, his deep voice right by your ear as he explains. You can't pay attention to it all, for some reason. You kind of feel dizzy again. Perhaps it's the food poisoning for real this time?
His fingers guide yours along the strings, gently pressing on the right spots, strumming the chords at the bridge. He murmurs the instructions, voice ressonating like the low pitch of the instrument, hot breath tickling your skin. You let him do as he pleases, dazed. The simple notes ring in your ears, lulling you into calmness, eyes closing as you let your sensations take the wheel, the frequency making your heart vibrate in your chest, as if dancing along, your head floating in the clouds.
It's all good and well until Lilia starts singing along. Or whatever it is that he calls "singing". In reality, he starts screaming some punk-rock lyrics right by your ear. Your heart jumps so quickly you swear you almost had an arrhythmia, your soul leaving your body for a second. Your eyes snap open so fast the lights from the classroom blind you and make black spots appear in your vision. You elbow Lilia in your surprise, thankfully making him stop trying to burst your eardrums. You get away, taking off the strap of the bass and giving it back to him. You think that's enough practicing for now.
Later on the day you confirm your food poisoning suspicions to be true. You've gained a new found respect for Sebek for enduring the poison Lilia calls cooking everyday and still managing to keep that impressive disposition of his. At least you helped the pop music club get more followers on magicam and spread their word out there. A bunch of people sign up to know the club, so you're all really happy! You felt like you've done a good job. (In the next week, the people arrive and see no sight of you, only of the dynamic trio. They don't show up again, leaving the members number back to it's original three.)
It was pretty fun, all things considered. You didn't get hurt other than in your pride and your social image, so it's a win in your books. Still, you're not sure you could handle their energetic and chaotic personalities combined like this evey week and risk getting deaf or suffering stomach failure. Time to check out other clubs.
(Cater comments on how the photos you took together got the most likes, insisting you come over again for a photoshoot. Kalim says he's got new songs to dance with you and that he's asked Jamil to help him cook for the next club meeting. Lilia tells you that you still have to take some more bass lessons to get the hang of it. Well, you suppose you could pass by sometime to be in the know about what goes on at the school and to get to prove Jamil's cooking. And to enjoy your friend's company, of course!)
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firesmokeandashes · 9 months
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All the fanfic readers/writers, after finding out they can't read their before-bed fanfics, and escape reality for a little bit, because ao3 is down:
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month
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m'starting to get my groove back no emperor so here's a lil valentines day piece i wrote, hope yall enjoy ♡ ! ( a lil bit more love for the hopeless romantic singles like me, ppl in a relationship yall can get that from your s/o's..still love yall tho ♡)
fem reader, katsuki is a nervous lil thing, his friends don't help( they do end up helping him out tho), just pure fluffyness, bksquad boys are sassy towards each other but all in good fun, bkg is a softie, kirimina kinda hinted but eiji shuts it down take it how u wanna, food n takeout mentions,dude talk written by a girl trying her best, kirishima's sheets smell bad lemme know if i missed sum else ♡ !! (no friends to lovers mentioned in this one btw..starting to feel myself goin thru withdrawal already..), not rlly reader oriented like usual but i thought this was cute lol i like the idea of katsuki caring about us so much he goes out his way to ask for help from others (despite hating doing so)teehee (also i like the idea of these silly guys interacting and i like hc-ing them okay okay i'll stop rambling okay-)
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the last thing kirishima expected at 9.34 pm was someone basically busting down his door with how hard they were knocking on it.
eijirou opens the door urgently and is even more suprised to see his foul mouthed best friend on the other side of the door.
"woah, bakugou, man !" he exclaims seeing the state his friend was in. his eyes looked droopy and his clothes were wrinkled up like he had done a lot of moving around. usually, he would've assumed his friend had just awoken from a good nap, but his restless expression said otherwise. "what happened to you ? you look—"
" 'm fine." bakugou gruffs hoarsely, taking a deep breath at his friends widened eyes, softening up his demeanor just slightly " i'm good," he rephrased "just—you gonna let me in or what ?"
eijirou sputters out an "of course, of course" only for his friend let himself in before he could even move aside. though he immediately freezes when he sees-
"woah, kacchan's gone nutso ! " denki exclaims, face turning red from laying upside down on kirishima's bean bag for way too long.
"and he's up past 8 ? must be the apocalypse or somethin' " sero chuckles from his place on the floor near the dresser.
bakugou groans has he flops onto eijirou’s bed "of course you losers are here" his complaint is muffled against the pillows, but not muffled enough to where the rest of the boys can't hear.
"hey ! we were here before you ! 'f anythin', you're the one intruding—!" denki gulps, eyebrows furrowed. he quickly spins around to lay right when he feels the blood rushing to his head, taking a deep breath afterwards. sero chuckles and bakugou deadpans at kaminari for a good fourty seconds before slamming his head back down and groans even louder.
kirishima decides he's at a safe enough distance to sit down on his own bed, without making any sudden moves so as not to anger the beast that is an angry, sleepy bakugou. he places a hand near his friends leg, where he deems he's at safe to ask "what's up man ? you're usually in bed by this time.." he hears sero make a noise in agreement.
"yeah, or he's havin' kissy-kissy time with his giiiirrrlffrrieeeend.." kaminari sings, kicking his feet in the air jokingly. bakugou, to everyones suprise, flinches at the mention of you, then slams his head against kirishima's pillow harder and groaning even louder.
all three friends share a curious-somewhat worried look. kirishima nudges his head in bakugou's direction, silently begging his friends to say something. said friends adamantly shake their heads, as if synchronized, making a cross motion with their arms. kirishima sighs to himself, some friends.
yet again, he is the first one to speak up " did..did something happen between you two, didja fight or something ?" he asks carefully, his entire body is strained and the air in the room is so heavy, everybody present ready to get a big portion of the great lord explodo-bomberkill's anger.
only to be met with bakugou turning around to lay on his back eyebrows strained slightly and eyes absent, thinking about something they don't know "what ? course we didn't fuckin fight, idiot." he answers simply.
the three friends all let out an obnoxious sigh of relief, to katsuki's slight confusion.
"hoo, okay." kirishima answered relieved. he knows you and bakugou don't fight very much (which he thinks is super manly) but he knows that when it happens bakugou get's extremely—EXTREMELY—irritable, so it's best to stay away from him while he has his heart broken for a little bit, unless he reaches out by himself, but that only happens when he feels really bad and came to ask for advice on how to get his boyfriend priviledges back. "soo.." eijirou sings "what happened then ?"
bakugou's face hardens and the group stiffens again, preparing for a latent explosion--perhaps the volcano was still dormant and was about to be set off. the three boys hold their breaths.
bakugou takes a deep breath, a sour expression on his face.
3..
bakugou huffs out a sigh.
2...
he opens his mouth to speak and—his cheeks are turning pink ?
"valentine's day's after tomorrow and i don't know what the fuck to get her."
the three boys slump over and kaminari does so so hard his face bangs against the floor. kirishima feels like he's in a sitcom or some gag anime.
" that's it ?" sero chuckles to himself "what ? you're worried for valentine's day ?" sero mocks, gladly taking the opportunity to mess with the blond "that shit's easy man." he cackles, leaning against the dresser more comfortably.
"yeah dude, all you gotta do is get her some chocolates and like—a teddy bear or somethin' girls love that typa stuff !" kaminari piped up, having lifted his head up from the floor. sero nods and bakugou lifts himself up to scoff at them. it feels like it comes from the deepest depth of his very being and kirishima feels a little hurt, despite not being the target of the attack.
"this is why you losers don't have girlfriends yourselves, so i don't wanna hear anythin' from you." kaminari chokes out an "ouch, dude !" " sides, i'm not just gonna settle for that boring ass shit for my girl. no chance in hell." bakugou concludes gruffly.
"yeah, yeah we get it you're the perfect boyfriend" sero quips bitterly, rolling his eyes. " why'd you come here to ask us if, according to you, we get none ?" he questioned raising an eyebrow.
"i came here for shitty hair, not you bastards." the blond spits, rolling his eyes as well before turning to kirishima, who jumps a little at his friends slightly desperate eyes on him.
"woah, i don't have—what makes you think i would be any help ?" the redhead splutters, waving his hands around.
"don't you have something goin' on with alien chick ?"
"what ?! no dude, we're just friends !"
at that, bakugou's eyes widen the slightest bit before he groans for what feels like the 5Oth time tonight, and flops back onto the bed dramatically, turning his head away from his friend " your fuckin' useless too, then." his friend grumbles angrily.
"hey !" kirishima exclaims "mean ! i help you with your girlfriend troubles all the time without having one !"
bakugou turns to face his friend again with narrowed eyes, before exhaling a frustrated sigh and lifting himself up again, eyebrows furrowed. "your sheets smell like ass by the way." he chides, nose scrunched slightly.
"h-hey !" kirishima reiterates " i was gonna wash 'em !"
bakugou gives him an incredulous look, before shaking his head, sighing.
"well look, how about you just get her something you know she likes, isn't that good enough ?" sero offers, shrugging to himself.
"ou ! i saw a guy on tiktok ask his girlfriend out with wingstop, you could like-" kaminari, despite getting lightheaded before has apparently not learned his lesson as he flips around on his back again "—ask her to be your valentines with some fast food chain she likes, and those cute pink heart balloons they sell at the mall, y'know !"
the boys all hum at kaminari's suprisingly helpful idea. kirishima doesn't wanna say it out loud but he really hadn't expected such a cute idea from his electric friend.
"y'know, i was gonna say you were just hungry with the wingstop thing, but that's actually not a bad idea kaminari." sero hums absentmindedly with an impressed expression on his face. kirishima sweatdrops at his lack of tact but isn't really suprised.
"fuck you, man ! you guys never trust me with this stuff." kaminari whines mostly to himself. "yer track record isn't really the best when it comes to scoring girls, is it ?" sero retorts.
kirishima shakes his head seeing his friends start to bicker. he decides to ignore them and turn to his spiky haired friend, who seems deep in thought "well, what about it ? that sound like a good idea ?" he asks.
"s'not half bad.." his friend mutters in response " it's a good start, i guess."i if he notices how kaminari presses a hand to his chest with a heartfelt look on his face, he doesn't comment on it.
"oh, maybe try the take-out and a movie, i'm assuming you're not trynna have a whole celebration, yeah ?" bakugou grunts in response, his nose scrunches as he cringes thinking about the idea. he shakes his head "no, want it to be..about just the two of us, y'know ?" he utters honestly, in a way that sounds way too out of character from him.
a symphony of awwwss resonates around the room and katsuki feels his cheeks heat up hard as he harshly tells his friends to shut up.
" but seriously i'm curious, you guys are already together right ? why would you need to ask her to be your valentine anyway—shouldn’t that be a given ? " sero wonders.
"i don’t fuckin know, my old hag says it’s about the principal or some shit like that." bakugou sighs, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm up over his eyes, it seemed like being up so late was affecting him.
"no way dude, you called your mom ?" kaminari asks, jaw practically reaching the floor (or the ceiling..?) in shock. bakugou flushes and splutters as he hears his friends reaction to this apparently shocking news.
“shut up.” he growls “she says it’s important to show i care.. my old man does it an' they're still together right now so he must be doin' something right.
"woah man.." kirishima uttered in awe " you're goin so far to make your girlfriend happy.." he clenches his fist "s-so manly !" bakugou simply grumbles to himself in response.
"honestly..i didn't expect that from you..like at all."
"fuck off !"
"like genuinely, at all. or maybe like, 0.00003 percent cha-"
" i'll fuckin' kill you tape arms !" bakugou barked, small sparks shooting out of his palms as he kneeled at the foot of kirishima's bed in pursuit of the black haired boy. kirishima swiftly swoops in and grabs his friends arm, quickly putting his finger over his mouth
"shhhh, man !" kirishima shushes. " if we're loud, class rep's gonna hear us !" he hisses.
"or worse, mr. aizawa..." kaminari whimpered.
all four boys share a shiver.
afterwards, bakugou sighs, acting as if him almost literally blowing up at his friend a minute ago hadn't happened and gets up to sit on the side of the bed.
"well whatever, i'm satisfied." he says, a little yawn leaving him "my folks gave me some ideas so i'll use those too." his eyes zip around the room and back to the floor, then he closes his eyes and speaks so quietly kirishima barely catches it
"you guys' idea isn't horrible either so i'll keep it in mind..thanks." he utters a quick " 'r whatever." before suddenly getting up and practically sprinting to the door.
it's quiet in the room as everyone sits stunned and kirishima is the first to speak again "o-oh yeah, no problem man, anytime !" he beamed, though still slightly shocked.
"yeah, no problem..!" kaminari can't seemed to decide if he wants to smile or be stunned. his mouth stuck in an awkward half-smile-half- '°O°-' face.
" course." sero raises a thumbs up and a small smile.
bakugou grunts to himself, graces his friends with a simple "night." then pulling the door open quietly, looking around the hallway quickly before swiftly creeping out the room, closing the door behind him. the boys quickly reciprocate the goodnight quietly before he can fully close it. he stutters at the door for a second longer and kirishima knows he heard them then, so he's satisfied.
it's quiet in the room for about 5 seconds after bakugou's left.
"dude, for some reason that made me feel all warm inside..is that just me ?" kaminari hummed, pressing a hand to his chest.
"nope, me too" sero admits, sighing to himself.
"yeah, same here" kirishima says as well, smiling to himself " he really cares about yn, huh ?"
"i can give him that, yeah" sero stretches, getting up so he can jump onto kirishima's bed.
"dude" he lifts his head up "your sheets do smell like ass." sero snickers.
" I- AM-GONNA-WASH-THEM !! "
afterwards valentines day comes around. the boys don't have valentines of their own but when they see you and katsuki hand in hand, with you holding onto those cute pink heart balloons from the mall, wearing a sweater a little too big for you and a valentines day gift bag in your one hand, with bakugou holding onto a bag of take-out and offering them a single side glance and a nod with a half smirk on his lips, they feel extremely proud of themselves. bakugou reminds himself to tell his friends he owes them one.
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cerise-on-top · 2 months
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Hugging, Kissing and Cuddling HCs for König
I'm trying to see him in another light again after everything I've seen about him, so I decided I'd write something fluffy and nice for him. And then came the realization I never wrote some HCs like these for him in my original posts, so I decided I'd change that! He's Austrian, so naturally I have to love him!
When it comes to hugging someone, König is a bit hesitant. Considering he’s not the most physically affectionate person out there, it’s almost an honor to be receiving an unprompted hug from him. Whether his hugs are long or short depends on the occasion: If he’s proud of you for accomplishing something, then the hug will be rather short lived. Though, he might pick you up and spin you around until you’re dizzy. If you’re sad and need some comfort then his hugs could last a while. He’s not the best with words, he prefers to listen to other people, but if he knows a hug is what usually helps you then he’s willing to do so. Despite being a big and strong lad his hugs are surprisingly gentle, he’s worried about crushing you. He could put his all into them, but then you’d likely end up with a few broken ribs and he doesn’t want that to happen. König is also surprisingly warm, so receiving a hug from him is a rare, but nice experience. Although he does go rigid at the beginning, not knowing what to do, but relaxes into the hug eventually.
Again, he’s not a very physically affectionate person, but isn’t opposed to the occasional peck on the cheek or on your lips either. There is some anxiety whether you’d actually want a kiss from him or not, so he doesn’t kiss you very often, even if you do reassure him that it’s quite alright. He’s a bit tense at first when he presses a kiss to your lips, but calms down eventually. It’s especially bad during the beginning of your relationship, but he’s since gotten better at being calm about it. Since there’s a good chance he’s taller than you he loves giving you a kiss on the forehead. It’s a small but sweet gesture. He doesn’t need to bend down entirely to reach you but he still gets to be affectionate with you. However, if you’re on the taller side, or just as tall as he is, then he’d love to receive kisses to his temple from you. It makes him smile every time you do it. If he’s in the mood for receiving a kiss then he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and nudge you a bit. Or try to get his head in your closer vicinity. Kind of like that one bunny video where the bunny stretches to receive some kisses.
Cuddles with him are a bit more common than hugs actually. However, he refuses to lay down on top of you. If you’re shorter and weaker than him then there’s no chance he’ll put his weight on you, he’s just that afraid of hurting you. If you’re taller or just more muscular, then he might, but he’s still a rather heavy lad. Most he’ll do is put his head on your shoulder while you’re cuddling in bed and are both lying down. Although it’d be a lie to say he doesn’t want to be held. König is alright with being the one to hold you, but sometimes he would prefer to be the little spoon as well. That urge gets especially bad if you’re roughly the same size as him. Sometimes just nuzzling into your chest does the trick for him as well, though. Loves it when you run your fingers through his hair as he does so. Another thing he adores is you sleeping on his chest as he holds you. He gets to hold you close, he gets to protect you and he gets to doze off a bit himself, it’s bliss to him. Sometimes he leans down to press a kiss to your head and accidentally wakes you up like that. He feels bad about it and apologizes profusely, but does chuckle a bit when he sees your disheveled hair and your tired expression that shows you just woke up.
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sukunasdirtylaugh · 2 months
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tags: gojo x f!reader, bridgerton au. (unedited) word count: 1.29k
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it seems as though lady whistledown had taken a liking to you. born out of a prestigious lineage, your name was untainted, holding no negative connotation other than the envy your perfectness shone over anything.
like a porcelain doll, as the queen has once referred to you as on your first visit.
your mother and grandmother before you married as 'pure' with little to no scandals involved, yet it was your mother in her time who caused the biggest uproar in suitors to pursue her. even today, you had grown up with maids, nannies, and people well acquainted with your mother, and your mother at times who would share details over her diamond years. 3, to be exact.
now you felt an obligation to live up to the family name, to honor the work your mother has preserved before you so that you could comfortably live a life with no shame, and you swore that you would do the same for your own children.
if, you decided to bear them.
tonight, you stand in a glorious dress, embedded with the stones your mother and trusted modist claimed to make you look radiant. yet that seemed to be the opposite for you. 4 dances have occurred in your presence and only one man approached to talk to you. the worst thing was that he was unsuitable, and your mother had to intervene, breaking apart the association and taking you to another.
"he was boring," you whisper shouted at your mother who eyed you, aware to not make a scene as you stopped by a secluded balcony. "it seemed everything I told him, he would restate it or make it obvious. it was like talking to myself! if I wanted to, I would have sought company from my mirror."
"how frustrating." you nod in agreement with your mother.
"have all good men gone to waste mama?" you ask, stress and tears welling in your eyes. "If this is the first man I encounter, I cannot bear to think what the rest of them might be like. Or is it I am just ugly?"
"hush, child." your mother holds your shoulders, then cups your cheeks. "you're not acting like yourself tonight. don't let one bad apple ruin your basket. you are young, gifted, and come from a name. you are something because you came from me. have I not taught you well?" she caresses your arm in comfort. "come, wipe those tears that are threatening to fall. you will cause a scandal on your own if you are seen crying tonight. let's find you an honorary man."
that night you only danced with two men. they remained respectful, yet not enough to provoke intrigue in you. though you would never outwardly admit that to your mother, at the end of your second dance, you went for a beverage. opting for some time for yourself.
"I couldn't help but wonder if you were running from that man after that dance, or if the conversation was that good you needed to excuse yourself for a beverage." the voice snickers, standing beside you, "he was terrible, right?"
"I wasn't, I was just dehydrated." you remark, careful with your tone as you defend your doings. as you stand beside him, you cannot see his face as he is taller than you. lifting your head up would raise even more spectacle as you saw one woman and what appeared to be her sister point at you with the mysterious man at your side.
"so do they just dehydrate fair maidens now? seems like a trick to get you to marry the first man you see,"
you don't answer him quick enough.
"lord higurama is a good choice. he has a fair name and a inheritance to obtain, however, be wary of his drinking problem. heard he leaves bars at ungodly hours of the morning with holes in his pockets."
you can't help but gasp softly, almost in disbelief as the man beside you spoke so poorly of the men you danced with. it might have been a given that you needed to get out of here after those girls pointed at you with shock on their faces. have you just ruined your reputation?
"I respectfully fail to see how that is any of your concern, sir." you state, imposing a formal limit, "I have no desire to engage in talk if it pertains to stain the reputation of others."
"please," you hear him snort beside you and you freeze, feeling yourself slightly become smaller. "his reputation is done for. I'd be doing you a favor
"and your reputation, good sir?" you counter, but when you hear silence from him, you fear you have crossed the line. it isn't until you are pulled by mother you see this man. white hair adorns his features while stunning blue eyes decorate his face. the hold your mother has on you let's you know to stand well, and be presentable.
"Lord Gojo," your mother bows, slightly forcing you to bow with her, "what a pleasnt encounter to find you here. my condolences to you and your family after your father's passing."
"lady levington, you are too kind." he man before you bows, offering your mother a charming smile you can't help but hold back a jaw drop at his sudden charming behavior. "I assume you are enjoying your time at the final winter's ball?"
"indeed," your mother smiles charmed, "we were just enjoying our time at the ball. this is my daughter, lady levington. she is of the age to begin looking for a suitor," your mother states, "wouldn't you agree?"
"well I find it difficult to believe that your daughter will struggle to find a suitable partner given her agreeable nature," your jaw slightly clenches, "I suppose you have a large list of eligible bachelor's for your daughter?"
"oh yes," your mother smiles, "but I tell my daughter we must select carefully. it is growing rather difficult to choose an honorable man for marriage, yet modern problems always continue to arise with the passing of time. wouldn't you agree?"
"I couldn't have said it better myself," he smiles, "finding a husband has been growing to be tedious by the years, yet that is why we must be careful in selecting. london is unfortunately filled with lots of ineligible bachelors starting off with lawyers with questionable drinking and spending habits. a poor reflection on our society, wouldn't you agree?"
"it is unfortunate indeed," you mother sighs softly, "but we shall look carefully to ensure a positive outlook for the future."
"that is always a pleasure to hear," smiles gojo, offering a bow. "if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way. it has been a pleasure to find you in good health, madam. and the best of my wishes to your lovely daughter as well."
after some concluding exchanges, your mother stands proudly with a smile on her face. "you will not believe who we just spoke to." she says, moving you away from the drinking station. "we must bid our farewells and leave as soon as possible."
"why?" you frown, "the dance doesn't end until-"
"-we've already met an eligible bachelor," your mother smiles, "you should've seen the look on everyone's faces. you will surely draw attention now, my dear."
the following day, you wake up to the following news from lady whistledown, having written an article about you.
"at the winter's ball, lady levington's beauty could be seen from a mile away, drawing the attention of lords. standing with such poise and grace, lady levington has proved herself to start off as an indestructible force with honor as her first name. will she perhaps be named diamond of the season? or indestructible diamond?"
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chubbyhunnybun · 2 months
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Having some unhealthy thoughts about lunch club era schlatt and how he is so ‘I’ve never touched a woman in my life but I’m going to pretend like I fuck’ coded. He would for sure send you flirty messages and say dirty things over the phone every chance he gets. Really making it seem like he will be bending you over all night no breaks type of shit. Now he is a whining mess as you are on his lap grinding on the outline of his cock-making out with him like it’s the last thing you will ever do. Just as you’re about to move from his neck back to his swollen lips he lets out a high pitched moan and you can feel his body freeze. Looking down to see that the cocky son of a bitch got too excited and couldn’t help but cum in his pants. You can’t help but laugh as he attempts to hide his red face and stutters out “I-I’m sorry f-felt too good.” I wouldn’t feel too bad for him though because his dick definitely twitches when you catch your breathe from laughing and coo at him “aweee I guess big guy here is all bark and no bite, how pathetic”
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