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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months

Text

too nice

words: 1k

rafe is turned on by you... being nice?

warnings: 18+ only, smut, female receiving oral, p in v sex (no climax included lol i ended it early bc it felt right)

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

it's not that rafe isn't used to people being nice to him, but it's a different kind of nice. it's being pleasant out of fear of him and what he will do. you, on the other hand, don't see him that way for whatever reason. you are nice to him simply because you are a nice person, and wouldn't think to be anything but sweet to the cameron boy.

“hey rafe, how's your day today?” you ask, leaning your chin onto your first as you prop your head up on the side of the boat, the sun hitting your skin and warming it.

“good, thanks for asking darling.” rafe says, really not in the mood to be out on the water, but when topper said you would be joining them on the boat, he couldn't pass up the chance on getting close to you

“no problem.” you smile, bending your knees and bringing your heels to rest on the plastic couch material, looking off into the distance as the boat flies over the water, humming along softly to the music.

“do you want something? a water or a coke?” you ask rafe, feeling your mouth is a little too dry and needing something to replenish it.

“water is fine.” rafe nods. “thank you, y/n.”

you smile at him before standing up to find the cooler, getting out a water for rafe and a can of lemonade for yourself. you return to the spot on the couch, noticing that kelce has moved to rafes other side.

“here ya go.” you tell rafe, taking your seat again after handing him the water.

“you're too nice.” rafe says, shifting in his seat.

“im not too nice.” you roll your eyes. “im just being friendly.”

“mhm.” rafe hums, taking a sip of his water. when the boat stops and everyone jumps off, he has to run to the bathroom, surprised he lasted so long with you sitting next to him, so fucking sweet, and barely covered by your small bikini.

he fucks his fist, the image of you in his head, imagining you between his legs, your mouth on his cock, or bending you over the sink as he takes you from behind, holding your plump ass in his hands.

he cums thinking of your moans, thinking of fucking your tight pussy, how nice you'd be about it, how much you'd thank him and bat your eyelashes.

he cleans up before heading out of the interior to see you standing on the deck, dripping wet, and he instantly rehardens in his swim shorts.

“rafe!” you gasp against his lips, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt.

“can't believe you're this nice to everyone.” he kisses you harder, not allowing you to think as his lips slide against yours. “such a fucking sweetheart.”

“please!” you gasp out, grinding your hips against rafes as he presses into you.

“begging me to fuck you.” rafe laughs, pressing his cock into you through the layers of clothing. “and being so nice about it. such good manners, baby.”

“need you.” you tug at rafes clothing, desperate to get him naked. rafe steps away to free himself of the sweatshirt and tshirt, tugging his sweatpants down as well to leave him in just underwear. it had been a long day out on the boat, and rafe was glad he brought a change of clothes for after he was done swimming and the sun fell in the sky.

“i wonder…” rafe says, tugging at your coverup, navigating the confusing straps until it's off your body. “if you taste as sweet as you act.” rafe tugs the zipper on your bikini top down until the sides split apart, your breasts spilling out.

rafe props you up onto the sink, wishing he was fucking you in someplace nicer than the bathroom on toppers family boat, but it was clean and big enough to make do.

rafe latches onto your nipple, his other hand covering your breast as he toys with it. you throw your head back, pressing it against the mirror as rafe attacks your chest, sucking, licking and pulling at your nipples.

“ive always wanted to taste your pussy.” rafe lifts you off the vanity with one hand, tugging your swimsuit bottoms down with the other, not even needing your help in getting you naked.

rafe sinks to his knees, the bottom of his feet pressing against the opposite wall but ignoring the cramped space as he spreads your thighs, revealing your wet cunt to him, already leaking from his kisses elsewhere.

rafe buries his face between your thighs, his tongue lapping over your folds without spreading them, keeping his touches teasing and not where you truly want him.

“please, rafe, come on.” you tug at his hair, pulling him closer and causing his tongue to push through your folds and separate them. rafe slurps at your juices, making obscene noises that you hope no one else can hear as he pulls away and looks up at you with a half smile. “i knew it.” he nods. “you taste just as sweet as you act.”

rafe licks at your cunt like it’s the best thing he’s tasted, not tearing himself away until his tongue brings you to your first orgasm of the night, and he still makes sure to lick up all your sweetness before standing.

“want me to fuck you, darling?” rafe asks, rubbing his hand over his cock, still covered by his underwear.

“yes, please, rafey, want you so bad.” you pant, tugging at the waistband of his underwear until rafe concedes and pushes them down his legs.

“let me taste you-” you begin, going to get off the sink, but rafe stops you from kneeling on the ground.

“as much as i’d like that baby, i need to be inside of you. you’ll have plenty of time to suck me off later.” you pout but nod, fine with hurrying it up if it means getting to feel rafes impressive length in your cunt. “so theres gonna be more times?” you ask, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders.

“princess, you thought once i got a taste if your pussy that i would be satisfied with just fucking you once? of course there will be more times.” rafe leans in and kisses you gently. “you’re too cute.” he states, and then pushes his hips forward, plunging his cock deep inside of you.

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deadghosy · 2 months

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Okay so I just started reading Hazbin stuff on your blog, but they're AWESOME!! I'd like to request some Catnap!reader headcanons with the Vees if that's possible?

SURE! Thanks for the suggestion anon🦆💗

CATNAP! READER W/ THE VEES FOR A DAY

prompt: one of the Vee’s grabbed you out of now where and brought you to their tower to hang out.

You didn’t know how this flat faced person got your attention…more like grabbed your tail like a untrained child 😭

Vox grabbed your tail dragging you to the Vee’s tower as you sighed, leaving some red gas out of your mouth annoyed.

I feel like somehow you would agree to hang out with the Vee’s as long as you don’t see them in your hellish life forever.

I can imagine a picture of you and the Vee’s taking a selfie, but Velvette is on her phone, Vox is smiling at the camera, and Valentino is trying to blow a kiss at you.

Valentino was trying to cook for the other two Vee’s and you only for the kitchen to burn down as you and Velvette order take out as Vox gets the fire extinguisher. Valentino is trying not to touch the ✨pretty fire✨

I headcannon Valentino finding you attractive because if your tall frame. But also your smile as you just stand there smiling having your hands behind your back.

Imagine Valentino showing off his guns and you’re like. “Who needs guns when I can do this.” You said smiling as poppy gas slides through your teeth and knocks Valentino straight out on the ground when you smirk.

I can see the Vee’s and you going in a shopping spree and you decide to fuck with them and spend almost all their saving worth. Vox knew what you were doing so he stopped you.

I feel like the Vee’s will try to use try to get info on Alastor. But that’s mostly Vox so it would useless as you don’t anything form Alastor other than Alastor hates when you knock him out for bedtime

You literally sat there as Valentino was trying to get you to watch one of his sex tapes…you knocked him out and left the room as you grumbled.

I can imagine if it was sleepover it would chaotic as hell as Vox would be the one to fall asleep first and duct taped to the ceiling as the other snicker

For shits and giggles, Velvette will say you give off Lana Del Rey vibes as you just side eye her saying, “what tf you know about Lana Del Rey?”

You two are the best music buddies of modern genre.

Imagine a cute little headcannon where they all have secret matching bracelets and they let you have one.

Vox brought you on his channel to talk about your weird and cocky appearance. You were just on there to be clowned until you smirked letting poppy gas as the camera man fell breaking the camera.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! You dumbass cat!” “I’m dumb?” You said glancing at the man beside you as you slapped him smoothly with your tail as he had a shocked face touching his cheek.

I can see Valentino trying to get catnap! Reader to wear heels only for catnap! Reader to break them in their hands shaking their head no as they walk away again

I headcannon that the only V that catnap! Reader finds tolerable is Velvette because of her whole personality and not how she tries to bring catnap! Reader down

You definitely have that fun friend troupe with Velvette which is sweet and wholesome.

Velvette and you were hanging out on her side of the tower as she was getting you dressed in [style aesthetic]. You actually liked it as you gave her a thumbs up and grin.

I headcannon Velvette and Vox to try to make you do those dumbass TikTok dance trends with them so they could get #1 on the trending board.

I can imagine catnap! Reader ordering one of tose bug zappers to only electrocute Valentino

Velvette posted you and her doing a fashion walk as Angel was shocked seeing this on her page and shows the staff of the hotel.

The hazbin hotel gang will be like: “why tf is our resident hanging out with them?” As you are just trying to see why people even love the Vee’s.

I can headcannon that Vox forced you into a group chat with them

I can see that every time you hang out with the Vee’s, your phone gets blown up with worried text from the hazbin hotel crew. And then Vox will try to hack or get into your phone to disable your phone.

I imagine you and Vox literally shitting in each other. Like you say “why as you so short.” While he thinks of a comeback to say back to you.

I headcannon that if you and the Vee’s played uno together, you’re rigging it. Cause ain’t no one gonna win today.

At the end of the day, you left their asses as you used your red smoke on them…well idk about Vox cause that bitch has a tv head. You probably gave him a virus to circuit.

BRO WHO TF MADE THAT SMIRK FOR CATNAP?! EHH? Anyways I hope you guys liked this🦆💗

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winterarmyy · 10 months

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winterarmyy's masterlist

Disclaimer: This masterlist may contain works with adult contents that is not appropriate for those who are under the age of 18. Please proceed at your own risk. Thank you.

Taglist: I do not use taglist system for my work anymore. You may follow me and turn on the notification for new updates. Don't worry about spamming, my blog posts are only consist of fic updates and asks replies.

Navigation: For now I only write for Bucky Barnes and all of my works are complete unless stated otherwise. Each of the work under a specific universe are listed chronologically based on the story's timeline.

Genre tags: 🥀 - angst ⛓ - smut 🐇 - fluff 🖤 - dark

FRIENDLY REMINDER

• I will block you if you...

MY WORK

Plot Twist Universe ft. mafia!bucky

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

♥︎ Plot Twist (🐇)(⛓) - Part I | Part II | Part III

♥︎ Around My Scars (🐇)(⛓) (🥀)

Behind The Facades Universe ft. avenger!bucky

An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.

♥︎ Behind The Facades (🥀) - Part I | Part II | Part III

And You're Mine Universe ft. alpha!bucky

How grumpy chubby alpha!bucky finally found his omega.

♥︎ Must Be Fate (🐇)

♥︎ And You're Mine (🐇) (🥀)

♥︎ Baby, Fever & Cuddles (🐇)

Welcome Home... Soldat? Universe ft. winter soldier!bucky

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

♥︎ Welcome Home... Soldat? (🐇) (⛓) - Part I | Part II | Part III

♥︎ Welcome Home, Daddy (🖤) (🥀) (🐇)

Promise Me Universe ft. 40s!bucky / tfatws!bucky

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

♥︎ Promise Me (🥀) (🐇) - Part I | Part II | Part III

Thin Walls, Thin Lines Universe ft. fuckboy!bucky

What will happen if a fuckboy falls in love with a hopeless romantic?

♥︎ Thin Walls, Thin Lines (🥀)(🐇)(⛓) + Deleted Scene

A Series of Bucky Drabbles

♥︎ Until Then (🥀) (🐇) ft. 40s!bucky / avenger!bucky

A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with. (Inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift)

♥︎ I'm Not Like Her (🥀) (🐇) ft. avenger!bucky

Y/N had her heart broken when some agents made fun of how her body looks and Bucky came in clutch with the rescue.

♥︎ Never Lie To Me (⛓) ft. winter soldier!bucky

In which Y/N's sinful thoughts towards the Asset is reciprocated. (Inspired by I Can See You by Taylor Swift )

♥︎ My Person (🐇)(⛓) ft. tfatws!bucky

In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.

♥︎ Kiss It Better (⛓)(🐇)(🥀) ft. avenger!bucky

In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

More drabbles coming soon...

A Series of Random Bucky Blurbs

Midnight Rain (🥀) ft. 40's!bucky

Breast-pumping Routine (🐇) ft. avenger!bucky

Forced Marriage (🐇) (⛓️) ft. duke's illegitimate son!bucky

Support other writers here: #fic rec

MY RECOMMENDATIONS

All my recommendations are consist of Sebastian Stan's characters.

#winterarmyymasterlist #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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cybernaght · 9 months

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The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain

As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.

This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.

Part one. Fanon.

The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe.

Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”.

(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)

Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours.

And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.

(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)

We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we?

Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals.

Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.

(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)

The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.

Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation.

So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.

I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth.

Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space.

Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality.

Part two. Microanalysis

Here are my two suppositions on the matter:

1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling.

Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season.

Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal.

2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.

And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal.

Too much metaphor?

Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.

Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.

If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works.

If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time.

As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever.

So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.

Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding.

But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.

One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs.

Part three. The Conspiracy Brain.

If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.

So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?

One, Because We Have Been Lied To.

All conspiracies start with distrust.

If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another.

We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership.

And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.

(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)

Two, Cognitive Dissonance.

The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.

Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:

A) this is not good

B) this author could not have made a mistake

C) this must be done on purpose

D) here is why

(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)

This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another.

Three, Intentionality

I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.

However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed.

The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.

It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media.

When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.

If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.

(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)

And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic.

But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking.

Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way.

Four, Wildfire.

Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness.

Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here.

So where are we now?

I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all.

All I am saying is… listen.

Do you hear that echo?

I do.

#fandom thoughts #fanon #good omens #good omens 2 #bbc sherlock #merlin bbc #think piece #it's been years and I still have no idea how to tag #conspiracy theories #fandom content #all fandoms

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tteokdoroki · 2 months

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ideal valentines gift would be a stuffed plushie ♡ can I swipe sweet on megumi ! ೀ

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. swipe sweet: mailbox.

about. boom, it’s a match! for your first valentines day apart; you send a piece of yourself back home to your boyfriend, megumi ( 0.8K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, college!au long distance relationships, established relationships, afab!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

“did you get it?”

“get what?”

“my gift! that’s why i called you dummy,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. megumi can’t help but smile to himself, basking in the impatience that coats your dulcet voice as rattles down the line. “i want you to open it while we’re on the phone together.”

a box had arrived for megumi fushiguro this morning, february fourteenth, at the precise time of eight am. the time he usually wakes up to start his day. gojo had brought him the box with a teasing smile, graciously reminding his junior of the note on top — written by your hand with a glitter pen and stuck to the box with pink washi tape.

‘do not open until tonight.’ it had read.

with the distance between you both, tonight would mean the morning for you — and though it wasn’t ideal, it was the only way yourself and megumi would be able to spend Valentine’s Day together. you were studying abroad for a year, leaving your boyfriend behind and despite the tears and shifty internet connection — you’d made it work so far.

just that this year, you wouldn’t be there in person to give your broody, moody boyfriend his valentine.

so you settle with an early-morning-late-night phone call, where you can listen to megumi open your present to him after escaping the clutches of gojo for the day.

“you’re sweet, you know that?” megumi tells you, quiet but earnest, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear to keep it steady. his large hands and slender fingers dance over the taped edge of the cardboard box at the centre of his bed — finding that little uptick of plastic to rip at and pull the whole thing open. “what is it?”

you scoff on the other end, the sound sends shivers down megumi’s spine. he misses you. “just open it dummy, then you’ll find out.”

pushing his tongue into his cheek, he laughs airly into the phone and your heart rate quickens in response. “watch your mouth,” the man warns you softly, with no malice or trace of a threat in his voice. your giggling overlays the sound of tearing cardboard and rustling packing paper.

“or what? we both know that if i go quiet you’ll miss me way too much, megs.”

“don’t get ahead of yourself —“ megumi’s end of the line goes quiet. a comfortable static crackling through your speakers as you busy yourself with other things, waiting for his reaction to your special shipment from abroad. “i thought we said no gifts.” he deflects, bringing a fond smile to your face. as stoic as he may sound, the dark haired man is grateful that you’re not with him in person. that way you can’t see the way his face crumples and his lips fight to twitch with emotion. fushiguro isn’t the type of person to admit that he misses someone, especially you. “you didn’t have to…”

but oh does he miss you. that sense of longing hits him with the force of a tsunami, causing his knees to buckle and for him to forcefully sit down on the edge of the bed. megumi thumbs your gift to him — the very first stuffed animal he’d ever won you on one of your very first dates at the beginning of your relationship.

it’s white fluffy ears and red checked bow tie carry your scent, as if you’d held the bear tight before sending it across oceans to fushiguro. his heart lurches at the memory of you packing the little bear to take with you because you would miss your boyfriend and his closeness.

now he’s the one missing you, and that special bear has made it back to him.

“i didn’t,” you hum at the same time that megumi lays back on his bed — holding the soft toy to his chest. your voice stays low, uses gentle affectionate tones and he feels as though you’re right there with him. whispering your love into his ear while you jay beside him. “but i’ve been gone for half a year, so i figured you’d hold onto the little guy for me for the other half. you know, until i get back and you don’t have to miss me anymore.”

“you’re full of yourself,” fushiguro states, nose tucked into the white fluffy fur of your teddy bear. he inhales the scent of your sugary perfume and relaxes. “‘m pretty sure you miss me more than i miss you…but, uh, thank you.”

“thank you, megs, for waiting for me.”

megumi closes his eyes and pictures the day you get back, and the day that he can finally return the plushie to you. “there’s not long now,” he rasps just before the clock strikes midnight for him. “happy valentine’s day, baby. i…i love you.”

“happy valentine’s.” comes your doting whisper. “i love you right back.”

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger #𐙚 bumble date & swipe right !

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sugrhigh · 26 days

Text

RUMORS - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary: you and chris have known each other for a long time, and you’ve always had an inescapable crush on him. when you all go to tara’s party and fans see them together for the first time, speculation begins to circulate, and you begin to pull away in fear that he likes her as more than a friend

warnings: angsty in the beginning, fluffy in the end :) some swearing a kiss and that’s it really

bff!chris x fem!reader

a/n: i loved this concept and i hope i brought it to life well for the anon that requested <3 my inbox is always open for u guys #kisses

@fawnchives @l9vesick @mattinside @sturnioloco @sturniolossss @cupidsword @teapartyprincess4two @princessbetsy123-blog @cookiehaos @sturnlova @junnniiieee07 @vsangel-starbies @chrissystur

doom scrolling online is like a car crash that you can’t look away from; especially when it involves your friend and your long term crush. you’ve been laying in bed scouring the internet for the past hour, pouring over comments about and tara and chris.

ever since her last party, when fans actually saw them publicly interacting for the first time, the gossip has gotten out of control. people want them together, and you hate to admit that it makes you sick to your stomach.

hell, you’d been the one to introduce them, since tara had become your friend first. but you and chris go all the way back to childhood; you were best friends with him and his brothers in your early years of school, and then you moved to another town after your dad accepted a new position.

you kept in touch through social media and occasional texts after that, until you all found yourselves in LA fresh out of high school, alone in an unfamiliar city across the country.

their youtube channel had taken off, and you’d gained a large following after you’d finally been recognized for your photography due to some big-name collabs. you were all in the same vulnerable position, and because of this your friendship with the three of them started right back up where it left off.

the rest is history. it’s been two years now, and you’ve all grown exponentially, fully adjusted to LA and the recognition, comfortable with where you are in your lives professionally and personally.

you spend nearly every week with the triplets, doing anything and everything together. they’ve made the occasional homesickness bearable, been your rock through the hard times, and supported you like no one else.

but things are a little different with you and chris. he’s your best friend, the person you want to tell everything to first. it’s always been that way, really. you had feelings for him at 13, and now at 20 years old you love him even more.

but that doesn’t mean you have to love him being shipped with every female influencer on the planet.

it’s selfish, really, to want chris to yourself, considering his occupation and the fame that comes with it. tara is a good person and an even better friend, and you shouldn’t be angry over the idea of them dating.

still, it’s been consuming your mind ever since you saw the first post about the two of them a few days ago, and you’ve been checking social media every hour since.

you’re about to read through yet another comment section when your phone buzzes, a notification appearing at the top of the screen.

chris

can you pls answer me

i don’t like this silent treatment thing

your stomach flips. he’s been texting you things like this for the past few days, since you started distancing yourself after the party.

the whole night he had acted as if he was into tara; always making conversation, asking to dance, posting her on his story. even when you were right next to him, it still felt like he was miles away.

so of course it’s been upsetting you, and you figured rather than taking it out on either of them you would just remove yourself from the situation.

it seemed like the best option in the moment, but it still sucks. you hate not talking to him, not seeing his face or feeling his arms wrap around you in a familiar hug.

another text pings, snapping you out of your spiral once more.

chris

i don’t know what’s wrong but you’re scaring me

the message makes your eyes burn, and you blink away the tears. you don’t want him worrying about you, especially when it’s your own stupid feelings getting in the way of things being normal.

you sigh, tapping out a response and staring at it, debating back and forth whether you should actually press send. but he beats you to a response, and another string of texts come through.

chris

i can see you typing

i’m coming over

y/n

no don’t do that, everything is fine

chris

i don’t believe you

and i already left my house

it’s only a five minute walk to get from his place to yours, and you know he’s too stubborn to actually turn around, no matter how hard you plead. you’ve already broken out into a nervous sweat just thinking about the confrontation.

but at this point you owe it to him and yourself to be honest. you just hope you don’t get your heart broken in the process.

y/n

fine, doors unlocked

i’m in my room

a few minutes later you hear the front door slam open and closed, just to see chris peek his head around the corner of your room moments later. you’re still curled up in bed, too scared and tired to move, so he takes the liberty of coming to you.

“hey.” he says softly as he sits down.

“hi.” you mumble, wrapping your blanket against your chest tighter.

it’s not cold, but you’re so anxious that you’re shivering. chris notices and puts a hand on your covered knee, rubbing small circles against the joint. he looks so sweet, clad in his blue fresh love hoodie with his hair all curly from showering.

“what’s up? i haven’t heard from you all week, and nick was about ready to call the cops.” he tries to joke with a small grin.

you can’t bring yourself to match his energy, and your face remains grave as you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.

“i’m alright, just tired.”

his face falls, and a slight frown replaces his smile. you know he’s not believing any of it for a second, and you’ve never been a very convincing liar.

“don’t do that, you’re obviously not alright. and i’m not trying to be pushy or anything, but i feel like you’re shutting me out.” chris replies quietly.

you shift a little bit so you can sit up properly, back resting against the headboard as you gaze at him. his hand remains on your thigh, a source of comfort while you try to pick your words wisely.

“i’m not trying to push you away, chris. i just…wanted to give you space.” you continue to dance around the truth.

he looks even more confused, eyebrows furrowed like you’re speaking another language. “that’s nice and all, but i don’t want it.”

“well maybe i do.” you shrug.

you’re lying through your teeth, but chris’s eyes go wide regardless. you’ve shocked him into silence, which rarely ever happens. he’s just staring at you, the gears in his mind turning as he tries to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

“are you serious? did i do something that i don’t know about?” chris asks, clearly exasperated.

he removes his hand from your leg, dropping it back in his lap. the small act alone makes your heart sink, and you feel the question crawling its way out of your mouth before you can help it.

“do you like tara?”

it hangs in the air, and you’ve stumped him once again. chris shakes his head, clearing his throat while his face reddens slightly.

“i can’t believe you’re even asking me that.” he sounds genuinely astonished.

“what? why?” it’s your turn to be baffled.

“because i feel like all i ever do is flirt with you. i mean seriously, it’s embarrassing for me at this point.” chris reaches to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

your jaw drops, which makes you feel silly. throughout this whole relationship you felt like you were the one putting the moves on him, doing too much. you’d never once stopped to think about all of the little comments he would make.

“i, uh, guess i didn’t pick up on that.” you manage to reply.

you immediately wish you hadn’t, that you just kept your mouth shut. but he smiles widely at you, chuckling lightly.

“no shit.”

this makes you laugh too, and it feels good to experience at least a brief moment of normality between the two of you. things have felt tense for so long that you’d almost forgotten why you love being around chris in the first place.

you wait to calm down a bit before you decide to finally lay it all on the table. “i like you a lot, chris. and i don’t want to mess up the dynamic we have, because you mean the world to me. but i’d be lying to myself if i said i didn’t want to be with you.”

he’s still grinning, though you can tell he’s gone a little shy now hearing you admit your feelings. this moment is all he dreamed about for so long, and now it’s finally happening in a realm outside of his own brain.

“i want that too, and i’m a dumbass for taking this long to say it. so no, i’m not interested in tara like that. it’s always been you.” chris confesses, reaching to interlock your fingers.

you’ve held hands before on many occasions, but it’s different now in the best way. butterflies erupt in your stomach as he leans in, and you can smell the fading hints of minty body wash on his skin.

you tilt your head so your mouths finally meet, soft and slow as you both finally enjoy the kiss you’ve been yearning for for so long. he tastes sugary, like the lollipops he’s always got between his teeth, and you’re already addicted.

chris pulls away a minute later, his lips reddened and glistening from the contact. you giggle slightly from the unfamiliarity of the situation, glancing down at your linked hands.

“your lips are so soft.” he praises, still awestruck that he finally got to kiss the girl he’s loved since he was a preteen.

“take a girl out to dinner first, jeez.” you joke playfully.

chris rolls his eyes, but he smiles nonetheless. “i think i will, actually. you got any plans tomorrow?”

you tap your chin with your free hand like you’re contemplating your schedule. “i can probably squeeze you in.”

“you better. everyone else can get in line.”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

Text

We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground.

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up.

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop.

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone.

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified.

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide.

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either.

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows.

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative.

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing.

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets.

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like.

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner.

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot.

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting.

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck.

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out.

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!”

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him.

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?”

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first.

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse.

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #gotta be honest i do Not know much abt the We Are Robin movement. have yet to read those comics....#also this definitely deviated a bit from your prompt. sorry!! still hope i got the main things you wanted to see #duke being dannys hero is something so special to me...#also it is his parents selling weapons and blueprints and things to the giw which is then given to the military for new weapons #a truly terrible pipeline #duke and jason and whoever else joins will find the source of the weapons. break into the fenton home. and dannys just there eating toast #in his pjs like. um hi guys did u need something? (and staring at duke like DUDE HELLO WTF??)#a mess of a situation :) not gonna write it bc i know it would get away from me and get so long #thanks for the prompt!!

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astaroth1357 · 5 months

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Oh God, What Have We Done??: Father!Belphegor Headcanons

You know, I was going to write this for Simeon, and I still might, but Belphie lost the Dad poll and I must right an injustice when I see one.

Content: Somehow incredibly fluffy with Big Happy Family vibes; mostly meme fodder

~♡♡♡~

I refuse to believe this could have been planned. No person in their right mind is going to look at Belphie and go, "Oh yeah. That's some real good father material right there!" Belphegor wouldn't even say that to himself.

Either a condom broke, a pill was skipped, or some orphaned demon child imprinted on these two like a baby duck and followed them home. Either way, NO ONE wanted this, but it's happening.

Belphegor's reaction to realizing that he's a Dad:

Everyone else's reaction to realizing Belphegor is a Dad:

Beel's reaction to realizing that he is an Uncle:

But seriously though, Beel is the only one with any kind of unwavering faith that his twin can pull this off. Never doubts him for a second and never will.

Everybody else though....? Well. Satan is already cleaning out the local libraries of their parenting books, Asmo's searching Mommy blogs, and Lucifer keeps staring off into the middle distance like he's questioning every single life decision that has brought them to this point. Fear is rampant, despair is on high.

The biggest worry is that Belphegor is going to leave MC more or less high and dry. He's not exactly known to be a "go-getter" when times are tough and though he has his soft side, sure, no one would call it particularly "nurturing."

Diavolo and Barbs weren't even sure if they should announce the news to the realm. Of course one of the Lords of the Hell having an offspring is a pretty big deal but under these circumstances...

What if it was treated like a joke by the populous? Painting a target for ridicule on Belphie and MC's backs had to be the LAST thing anybody wanted...

Even Belphegor, in a pretty heartbreaking moment of self-reflection, tried to convince Beel to take over for him instead. Not to shirk the responsibility, but out of pure acknowledgement that he would make the better father between them...

Beel, of course, was not having this for a second. And you know what? Everyone would do well to listen to the wisdom of Beel! Because he knew instinctively something that everyone else had conveniently forgotten-

No matter the circumstances, Belphie's kid was a part of the family. And that meant that they, the MC, and even Belphie himself were never going to be doing this alone.

And that fact was proven quickly enough when every member of the family, extended or otherwise, stepped up to lend a hand.

Levi and Mammon took it on themselves to go out and buy whatever baby items they needed and seemingly came in every day with handfuls upon handfuls of bottles, baby gates, socket covers, and TOYS (literally so many toys. They bought more toys than diapers).

Lucifer and Asmo set to work on renovating a nursery/kid's room almost immediately. The eldest had the plans drafted within a week of the news while Asmo buried MC and Belphie in paint swatches and magazine catalogs for the walls and decor.

Satan roped Beel in to help him train Belphegor to be a little less lazy and more attentive to the MC and the baby. Even going so far as to curse a baby monitor to sound like fog horn to him and only him if the kid began to cry.

The angels chipped in with gifts and free offers to babysit (mostly from Simeon, but Luke is already eyeing the little one like a baby sibling and is protective as such).

Solomon uh... Well Solomon offered to cook MC whatever they wanted through the pregnancy at first, but when that got a HARD veto he switched to just giving HoL a touch of magic baby proofing. Nobody can figure out how to get under the kitchen sink anymore, but that means the baby won't either!

And, of course, despite Belphegor not liking him much, Diavolo is probably the BEST psudeo-uncle a kid could have. He's already sent Barbatos out to curate the best baby food and Lucifer is training him on how to hold infants properly so he can take turns being babysitter with Simeon.

As a father... Belphie isn't perfect. He did whine more than a few times about no longer being the "baby" everyone doted on. A couple times, he may even act just as childish as his kid...

But in the moments late at night when he's rocking them in his arms, dead tired from being awake for hours but determined to make sure they sleep first...

Or when he's walking around the House with them tucked to his chest because they'll never cry if he holds them.

How he pays attention to every little thing that interests them so he can craft each of their dreams more exciting than the last...

Or how he, more than any of the others, knows what a precious treasure it is to be with those you love since you never know when they'll be gone...

He'll do alright. With the love and support of everyone else, their child will have everything they need...

As long as they don't turn out as spoiled as he is 💀

#tales from the drafts #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me headcanons

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minniesmutt · 1 month

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♱ ━━━━━━ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋: 𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍

♱ ━━━ CONTENT: INDIRECT MENTIONS OF MURDER, GUN MENTIONS, THREATS ON READERS LIFE, MENTION OF PROSTITUTES, STD MENTIONS, NON-SEXUAL NUDITY, FINGERING, EXHIBITIONISM/VOUYERISM, QUICKIE, PROTECTED SEX ♱ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ♱ ━━━ PAIRING: CHAN X READER ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ♱ ━━━ a repost from my old blog

“So, I fucked a mafia boss?”

“More or less,” Changbin replied

“That’s kinda hot,” Y/n shrugged

“Congrats Chan, you didn’t scare her off,” Seungmin gave the leader a thumbs-up

“Can I get an explanation on the ‘Chan’ part? That’s the thing throwing me off.”

“Did you tell you his name was Chris?” Felix asked

“That’s what Changbin and I heard last night, or, early this morning?” Jisung stated

“That’s embarrassing, damn.” Y/n sighed

“I can kick them out still,” Chan told her, praying she’d tell him too

“No, I want more of an explanation.” Y/n was persistent, that was for sure. Felix took to explaining the current situation; alias’, how they all met, fell into crime and violence together, etc. Leaving out what they actually had done and what they did every day. The club front and mentioned a few others they had because eight people running one club were suspicious.

“Wow, okay that’s a lot,” Y/n sighed, taking in the information she had just given

“Chan,” Changbin said

“Yeah. You guys get to work.” The words left his lips and the seven guys made their way out of the penthouse, leaving the two. Chan sighed and turned from where he stood next to the counter to stand between her thighs, hands pressing against the cold counter. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

“I didn’t plan to tell you any of this,” Chan brought one hand up to hold her chin between his thumb and pointer finger

“Is this the part where you tell me I can’t go back to my regular life? That I know too much?” Y/n was half joking. She’d read a couple of mafia lover books before, if they were anything like real life, she could guess what was coming.

“You either stay with us or we make you disappear.” The look in his eyes was serious. Y/n just smiled at him.

“You know, normal people don’t smile when their life is on the line,” Chan notified her

“Well, guess I’m not normal then. You’re stuck with me.”

“Y/n, please tell me you’ve thought this through.”

“What? Stay with a hot gang leader who’s very sweet and has some funny friends who are equally as attractive or die?”

“You’d be giving up you’re whole life, friends and all, princess. We can’t risk you running to the police.”

“Chrissy, babe. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not entirely right in the head. I don’t think a sane person would be as calm as I am about this whole thing. I swear I won’t go to the police or tell my friends about this. Most they will know if you’re a club owner and ask for free drinks. Do you want me to make a blood oath to you or something?”

“No, you don’t need to go that far. It’s… It’s a lot more than me.”

His head dropped as well as his hand. Laying on her thigh, “You wouldn’t be the first person we’ve brought into this. It usually doesn’t end well when they agree to stay.”

“Hey,” Y/n grabbed his face and made him look at her, “What aren't you telling me?”

“Besides that, my friends are just as smitten with you as I am, if you stay with us you are going to get caught up in everything.”

“That seems like a given. But I think eight hot men are good bodyguards.”

“Just how fucked is that pretty little head of yours?”

“I'm sure you'll figure it out soon,” Y/n pulled him in for a kiss.

Chan laughed a bit as he kissed her back, gripping her hips, and pulled her closer to the ledge of the counter. Y/n pressed her torso up against his bare chest, hands wandering down to his shoulders and gripping his biceps. “You sure you wanna stay?” Chan pulled away from her lips.

“Yes, Chris. Now stop worrying and fuck me again.”

Chan smiled, “You know, the guys are gonna want you too, right?” he leaned in and kissed down her neck

“I don’t mind getting passed around,” Y/n chuckled, “But can you share?”

“I can,” Chan answered, snaking and hand from her hips to under his shirt.

He pushed his finger between her folds and let his thumb slowly run circles along her clit. Y/n laid her head back on the cabinet behind her as he pushed two fingers inside of her, slowly pumping them in and out of her.

“Fuck Chrissy.”

“Love when you call me that,” His voice was muffled against her neck.

“Chan! Do you not have you’re fucking phone on you!” Minho’s voice rang

Chan sighed, not once even stopping his ministrations on her, “What is it now?”

“Felix got into the cameras at the docs. A bunch of lower-grade thugs go—” Minho walked into the kitchen, “Before I go further, what are we doing with her?”

“She’s staying with us,” Chan didn’t miss the smirk on his friend’s face.

“Well, lower-grade thugs got their hands on some bigger-grade guns and ballistics—” Minho explained the situation but Y/n wasn’t paying much attention as Chan slipped a third finger into her and pressed harder on her clit. Chan’s attention wasn’t even on her anymore, he was fully involved in his conversation with Minho. She bit her lower lip to keep her moans at bay.

“Don’t be quiet on the count of me kitten,” Minho stated, smirk returning to his face.

Her eyes flickered over to the other man. The moment she caught his gaze, she clenched around Chan’s fingers. Minho’s eyes drifted across her body as he continued speaking with Chan. Eyes lingering just a tad too long on her exposed thighs.

“Find the guys and call me, I’ll handle it from there.”

“You going to have your phone on you this time?”

“Yes, now go.”

Minho smiled, leaving the two of them. Chan turned his attention back to the woman in front of him. His lips went back to her neck while his fingers picked up the pace inside her.

“You like being watched when you’re getting fucked,” Chan chuckled

“Don’t know what you mean.” His fingers left her seconds later, making her whine

“I felt you clamp around my fingers when Minho walked in. Don’t play dumb,” Chan pulled himself out of his pants.

“I could say the same for you. You didn’t stop fingering me when you were talking to him,” Y/n added as he opened a drawer and rummaged around before pulling out a condom, “Do you just conveniently keep condoms in your kitchen?”

“You never know where you’re gonna fuck, might as well be prepared,” Chan smiled as he tore open the wrapper, rolling the rubber onto his cock

“Thought you didn’t bring others home.”

“Princess, we’ve all used prostitutes before,” Chan explained as he pulled her down from the counter, turning her around so his back was against his chest.

Before she could even comment, Chan pushed into her in one fell swoop. Y/n let a high-pitched moan fall from their throat as leaned forward, putting her hands on the counter in front of her. Chan smiled, holding onto her hips and leaning forward, “So pretty,” he whispered against her neck

He pulled back and thrusted back into her, not at a slow pace but also not at a fast pace. His lips left kisses along her neck, hands traveling away from her hips and pushing the t-shirt up.

“Faster,” Y/n groaned as his hands groped her breasts.

“Not yet princess,” Chan chuckled and his fingers tweaked her nipples

Y/n gripped the marbled counter as her head hung low, deep shallow breaths falling from her lips, slightly pushing herself back onto him, meeting his steady thrusts.

“Trying to fuck yourself on me, Princess?” Chan gave her one rough thrust that stopped all thoughts in her head

Chan was quick to learn last night the effect he might have had on her. Now he was certain of it and it made him smile.

He stood straight behind her and grabbed her hips again. He pulled back to the tip and quickly and roughly fucked back into her. Laughing at the curses that fell from her mouth. One hand moved down from her hips to rub her clit. The bit of pressure made her walls clamp around him and the knot in her stomach tightened faster between his thrusts and his fingers.

Chan’s thrusts were making it hard for her to do— let alone think of —anything. Hands slipping from the counter a bit, taking Chan’s notice. He moved his other hand up from her hip up to the column of her throat. He had a loser hold there as he pulled her back against his chest. Y/n grabbed onto his arm to ground herself, just a little.

“Even prettier like this,” Chan chuckled before she came undone on his cock. Chan thrusted up a few more times before coming in the condom.

Both caught their breaths before Chan pulled out and tossed the condom in the garbage. Y/n leaned against the counter before she was scooped up into his arms and carried back into the large bedroom.

“Don’t forget your phone or Minho will kill you,” Y/n giggled as he brought her into the bathroom

“I’d like to see him try,” Chan replied. He set her down on the counter before turning on the facet in the tub. Chan stepped out momentarily and came back with both their phones.

“Oh shit. Where was mine?” Y/n asked

“On the floor in your bag by my bed,” Chan answered

“Didn’t know I dropped it last night. Whoops,” Y/n grabbed her barely alive phone to check her messages

“We were both busy,” Chan smiled as he kissed her neck before going back to fix the bath for them.

Karina: Im so fucking pissed. That dick was terrible last night and now I’m hungover as fuck Seana: I’m assuming none of us came last night then Karina: probably not Y/n? Did you go home with anyone last night

It was pretty obvious that her two friends she was hanging out with had just gotten home. “Am I allowed to tell my friends I fucked the club owner?” Y/n asked

“As long as that’s all you say,” Chan replied

Y/n smiled at him.

Y/n: I did! Seana: oh bitch. who? Y/n: the owner 🤭

Chan came up and stood between her legs and watched her screen

Karina: no way! I don’t even think the employees have seen the owner. How do you know the guy wasn’t lying? Seana: someone’s jealous 🙄 Karina: im just saying. it’s unlikely

“Karina seems like a bitch,” Chan noted

“She’s been worse.” Y/n sighed

Y/n: If this penthouse is anything to the money that club brings in 👀 Seana: YOU’RE STILL THERE Y/n: He knows how to make a girl cum and I didn’t have to tell him to put a condom on. fuck yes I’m still here Karina: damn. didn’t wanna go raw 🙄 Seana: that’s why you have an std, dumbass Karina: UNCALLED FOR??? Y/n: gtg. talk later 😉 Seana: have fun babe 😉 Karina: does he have friends?

“I stand by my previous statement,” Chan said as Y/n set her phone to the side

“Yeah. I just keep her around for entertainment at this point.”

“Bath’s ready Princess.” Chan slid his hands under the t-shirt she had on

“Join me?” Y/n asked, hands wandering down to his sweats

“Of course,” Chan slipped the shirt off and tossed it to the ground. Y/n pushed his pants down before he took over. Y/n hopped off the counter and Chan guided her over to the tub.

He got in first and laid back against the porcelain as she got in and laid against his chest. His arms wrapped around her body.

“How do you feel about working in the club?” Chan asked after a few moments

“Gonna make me a bottle service girl?” Y/n chuckled

“No. People talk, I need you to listen. You’ll have a front job in management as well. You’re here, I might as well put you to use,” Chan explained

“Being you’re fuck toy isn’t a job?”

“You’re human, princess. Not a doll for us to play with whenever we want.”

“What exactly would I be doing for all of you then? You mentioned the others wanting me.”

“We haven’t explicitly talked about it, but from the way they were looking at you earlier, I figured they’d all taken a bit of an interest in you. If I’m correct and they are, you’d be shared between all of us. In return, we’ll provide you with everything you need.”

“Like a sugar baby? That’s what this sounds like to me.”

“Whatever you want to call it love. But, you’ll also be an informant for us. Men don't talk to us but give them a pretty face offering a drink and they’ll spill anything.”

“But don’t sleep with the enemy? Come back to each of you every night?”

“Hm. Not every night. I’ll provide you with your own place in the building, we’ll all have free reign to your place as well, but you’ll have the same to our places as well. Some may be a bit more clingy than others so beware.”

“Do you own the building too?”

“Yes. It is usually the eight of us that just live here, but now,” Chan leaned down and kissed her shoulder, “You’ll be here.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Chan smiled, kissing up her neck before his phone rang. Chan got up from the tub and stepped out. He made his way over to the counter and picked up his phone. “Hello?”

Y/n enjoyed the warm water, sinking lower. Relaxing her muscles from all they’d been through last night and this morning.

“Alright. Get over to mine to watch Y/n, I’ll head down there.”

Her head popped up at the mention of her name. “Where are you going?”

“Work. Minho and Jisung are coming down to take care of you until I get back. I’m sure Minho will give you some more details on the arrangement,” Chan grabbed a towel to dry off and walked out of the room to get dressed, “I’ll have them take you to your place to pack up what you need. I should be done by the time you get back to have your new place set up,” Chan called from inside the room

“Alrighty,” Y/n spoke, washing herself off. Chan brought in a clean t-shirt for her and cleaned up the clothes on the floor before he kissed the top of her head, “I won’t be long princess.”

“Have fun,” Y/n replied. Chan patted the top of her head as he walked out of the bathroom. He sent a text to his two friends telling them to take her to pack her things. He made a quick stop in his closet again to grab his gun from its safe.

He made sure it was locked again before he left his room. Minho and Jisung walked in from the elevator.

“She’s still washing up,” Chan told them as he headed to the elevator.

“Got it, boss,” Jisung said

“I told her about the arrangement as well.”

Both the men smiled at the mention. They could have some fun with this.

♱ ━━━━━━ ⇤prev | m.list | next⇥

♱ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months

Note

Not sure if you've closed or open requests but

How do you feel about writing a Yan! Slime? Could be platonic or romantic up to you! Idk slimes are cute :3

(also I'm permanently gonna low key stalk ur blog since again yummy yan fics hope you don't mind me staying- /hj)

CW: Wholesome, romantic, stalker monster love ahead ❤️ proceed with caution❤️

Accidently pushed post whoops done now lol

The five year old boy burst through the bushes, tumbling awkwardly and unskillfully before slowly popping up onto his feet and swinging his stick sword forward. His sibling, (Reader), high stepped carefully over the branches of the bush their brother had just crashed through. (Reader) nervously held their own sword, following their older brother into the woods.

"Jay, can we please go back?" (Reader) whined, trying not to cry nervously as they "explored" deeper into the forest.

"Don't be a baby!" Jay chastised, raising his arms high above his head. "How are you gonna be a monster hunter if you're too chicken?!"

(Reader) grumbled, dragging their shoes in the dirt. "I don't wanna be a monster hunter.. I wanna go home! I'm hungry!"

Jay opened his mouth, and raised his fists, ready to say something when something moved nearby, plopping loudly into a pile of dry leaves. His big, childish eyes went wide with fear, immediately losing all confidence and hiding behind (Reader), holding his thin stick in front of his face defensively. He was too scared to speak, trembling into (Reader's) back.

The younger of the two felt a surge of strength, needing to protect their beloved big brother, so they gripped their weapon with both hands, scrunching up their chubby little face to appear tough. They stomped over to the bush the sound came from, holding their breath, unlike Jay who was hyperventilating. (Reader) removed one pudgy hand from their stick, and swiftly pushed back the little branches, exposing a tiny green blob.

Jay released a high pitched scream and took off running back home, dropping his stick.

The glob was vibrating, and (Reader) was instantly filled with sympathy, assuming the little ball of goo was shaking with fear. "Hey, don't be scared." The four year old cooed, dropping their 'sword' and sitting on their knees to be closer. "I'm sorry, I thought you were a monster." (Reader's) cheesy grin showed off their missing front teeth.

Whatever the green thing was slowly went still, and (Reader) could feel it looking up at them.

"My name is (Reader), and I'm," they looked at their fingers, focusing on holding up the right number, before practically shoving their fingers in the glob's personal space, "four years old!"

The goo reached forward, forming a little nub of a hand, touching (Reader's) fingers. It was surprisingly warm. (Reader) opened their hand so it could roll onto their palm.

"Burrrrble!" The thing happily gurgled, looking quite pleased despite it's lack of a face.

"Burble? Is that your name?"

"Prrrr?" It patted their hand, not understanding the question. (Reader) laughed, feeling ticklish.

"I'm gonna be your best friend!" They decided, cupping the slime with both hands, still giggling over the sticky tingling the little guy caused. "I'll visit you every day, and we can play together everyday after school!"

And (Reader) kept their promise, visiting every single day, for years. The two friends grew up together, Burble learning to speak (Reader's) language over time as (Reader) brought their homework into the woods to have more time with Burble while they studied. Jay kept Burble's existence a secret, but never got over his fear of the creature, so he kept his distance from the two while they played.

Burble had a difficult time not praising (Reader) for their heroics, because if they did it would reveal that Burble had been watching them at school. Living alone in the woods was isolating, especially as a monster, their presence frightening off animals of all species. At first it was just because of how lonely they were, wanting to leave the forest to be with (Reader). They turned Burble down, reminding them how dangerous it would be, now no longer the naive child who didn't understand that slimes were monsters. But, no one would know if Burble attached just a little piece of themselves inside (Reader's) backpack, just to hear their voice while they were away.

Fourteen years later, Burble had been practicing in secret, forming their naturally round body into a humanoid form, trying to perfect their appearance before they revealed themselves to (Reader). It happened so naturally, Burble falling in love with their one and only friend. They wondered if (Reader) could ever feel the same. (Reader) was just so perfect; they were kind and strong, preferring pacifism, but quick to throw themselves in danger's way to protect the ones they love, just like when they first met. Even at school, (Reader) would stand up for those being bullied on a regular basis, gaining a reputation for standing up for those too scared to protect themselves. And they never bragged about it!

The green slime learned so much about (Reader) through the way they interacted with others at school, and fell deeper in love everytime they opened their mouth. (Reader) was an angel on Earth.

(Reader) trudged into the forest behind their home, exhausted after field hockey but refusing to take even a day off from visiting their best friend. It was surprising, learning that Burble was less of a pet and actually a sentient being with thoughts and feelings, but that was even more exciting, being able to communicate with a species not known for their intelligence. Burble rolled onto view, now a very large blob the size of (Reader) if they tucked in their arms and legs.

"(Reader)!" They happily gurgled, jiggling up to the high school senior. "How was your day?"

"Same old, same old." (Reader) lied, still wearing their gym shirt because their original clothes got soaked with milk after they stood up to Cody, the biggest dick they ever met.

Burble knew this, however, and was fine with (Reader) lying, knowing they were just being humble. It made their non-existent heart swell. (Reader) pulled out a bunch of classwork, and a brochure slipped out from a folder. "What's that?"

"Oh, that's a pamphlet for a university. Admissions are coming up, so I've been looking around."

The green color lightened almost to a sick looking yellow. Burble hadn't heard anything about this! What did they mean?!

"Burble, you okay?"

"Does that mean you're leaving?" Burble's voice shook, wobbling their jelly body.

"Yeah, if I make it in, but that's still half a year away, so we have time-"

Burble cut them off. "Don't go."

(Reader) sighed, placing a hand on top of their friend's smooth body. "I can't stay with my parents forever. I want to go explore, meet new people, hopefully get a career a have a passion for."

"Then take me with you!" Burble shouted, heating up under (Reader's) hand, the yellow intensifying.

The now yellow blob lunged at (Reader), morphing into a humanesque shape, creating a beautiful face that looked to be on the verge of tears. Burble held (Reader) to the ground, trapping (Reader's) body with their arms and knees.

"Burble, what the hell?" (Reader) wasn't angry, or nervous, just confused, not understanding what had gotten into their childhood friend.

"You can't leave me alone, (Reader), please!" Burble was incapable of forming tears, but their body ached like they were sobbing, rumbling instead of heaving as they didn't need to breathe. They slammed their face onto (Reader's), knowing what kissing was from a picture book (Reader) had shown them as a child, but not quite understanding how to actually do it. Their newly formed lips moved against (Reader's) timidly, easily holding down the struggling human. Burble broke the kiss so (Reader) could gasp for air. "I love you, (Reader), please don't leave me!"

A hurricane of emotions ripped (Reader's) mind apart, struggling with accepting what was happening. Their first kiss was taken by their best friend, who was still holding them tightly against the dirt ground.

"Let's.. let's talk about this later.. I need to go home." (Reader) stuttered, overwhelmed by the emotions they never felt before rampaging in their skull. Burble sunk lower, melting over (Reader's) body to better prevent their leaving.

"No.. not until you promise not to leave me." Their voice was barely a whisper, begging for (Reader) to love them back.

"I-I won't leave you. We'll figure something out.. You've just gotten too big to hide and-" Burble's weight was heavy on (Reader's) ribcage. "we'll figure something out."

Satisfied, Burble sat up and rolled off of (Reader), slowly changing back to their natural green hue. "You promise?"

"I promise." (Reader) face a sad smile, still incapable of fearing their dear friend.

Burble smiled, barely maintaining their shape as they allowed (Reader) to leave. They trusted (Reader), even if (Reader) didn't accept their confession at that moment, there was no way they would break their promise. And, if for some reason they did, if someone like their nervous brother fear mongered (Reader) into abandoning Burble, they would always be able to find them. The green slime collapsed back into a ball, happily listening to (Reader) through the tiny piece of themselves still hiding in (Reader's) backpack.

"Please come back soon.."

#soft yandere #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere slime #accidentally posted this early instead of saving it as a draft #whoops #i'm just really stupid lol #so sorry #not proofread #i hope you like it #again i'm so sorry #i'm really dumb

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tepkunset · 7 months

Text

Representation vs. Appropriation

When I made a tumblr blog post pointing out that the character creator in Baldur’s Gate 3 included culturally appropriative face tattoos, lot of people decided to bend over backwards to defend this. Excuses I have found while giving my blocking finger a routine work-out thus far have ranged from “Larian Studios is European so they don’t know any better”, to a classic “it’s just a fantasy game, stop being so oversensitive”. But by far the most common poor reaction was, “what if it’s representation?”

Now, two Māori people were quick to jump into this post and say themselves, clear as day, that this is not representation, it is appropriation. That should be enough right there—settlers do not get to decide what is and isn’t representation for us Indigenous folks. But white people not listening to Indigenous voices is nothing new. I’ve been forced to learn that if you want to be taken seriously by settlers, your best chance is to coddle and appease their poor little delicate feelings. So, let’s pretend for a second that these “what if it’s representation?” questions are actually asked in good, albeit ignorant faith, and not just a pathetic gut-reaction to avoid having to critically think about a beloved game. (Which, by the way, I still overall adore myself, mind you.) Let’s pretend they actually want an answer, and give it to them.

It’s very easy to list the examples of positive Indigenous representation I’ve personally experienced in video games, not made by Indigenous folks ourselves, because there’s only one game that comes to mind: Assassin’s Creed 3. The protagonist of AC3 is Ratonhnhaké:ton of the Kanienʼkehá꞉ka people. Ubisoft is a terrible company for other reasons, but they did one thing right in the development of this game: They hired a cultural consultant, Thomas Deer. Deer was able to guide them through avoiding offensiveness and stereotypes, and include proper cultural touchstones that Indigenous players, especially Mohawk players, would want to see. For example, Ubisoft originally wanted to include sacred ceremonial masks in the game, but Deer told them that depictions of these masks would be taboo. He also helped them choose what clothing and jewellery was authentic to the Nation. This, among much more, helped create a truly representative experience. What makes it representation is that it features an Indigenous character in a positive way, without crossing lines into what should not be touched by outsiders. But had Ubisoft decided to ignore Deer’s consultation and go ahead with using those sacred masks… that would have been cultural appropriation.

Cultural appropriation is taking a closed cultural practice and using it yourself, despite not belonging to the culture it comes from. The key word there is closed, as in, something not for outsiders to touch. Eating frybread is not cultural appropriation, because it’s something freely shared by Natives to others. But wearing a fake headdress to your local musical festival is cultural appropriation, because headdresses are sacred regalia not freely shared by Natives to others. It really is that simple: just listen to boundaries set by the People.

“But my fake headdress is just clothing.” “But a fake kakiniit is just ink.” “But my fake totem pole is just decoration.” Except not, and the very fact that you have no respect for the history and meaning behind these things is the perfect example as to why they are not for you. But being told something isn’t for them has always been a hard a pill for settlers to swallow.

The phrase “nothing about us without us” is often used when advocating for rights and respect of minorities. It was first brought into English vocabulary by South Africa’s disability activism in the 1990’s, and has since been adapted across the world as a slogan to mean uplifting voices of the people you claim to want to help, instead of speaking over them. I personally first heard it through EDIRA work (Equity, Diversity, Inclusion, Reconciliation and Accessibility) at my job, and I feel like it can be applied in many different ways, this being one of them. The best representation comes from listening to the people you want to represent. Had Larian done that, they would have known that imitating those tattoos was off limits. But since they didn’t, they took what wasn’t theirs to take. And that’s appropriation.

#cultural appropriation #appropriation #representation #racism

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ninetailedfoxmanchi · 1 year

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What is Simon 'Ghost' Riley actually like in a relationship (according to me)

A/N: I know this isn't anything like the things I usually write fics about but if I don't get this out of my system, I will spontaneously combust into flames from thought overload. There is a lot of great fics about him out there, 100%, but there is a steamy pile of garbage as well which makes Simon "an abusive asshole" to quote a TikTok I recently saw - and I couldn't agree more. So, here is my soft take on this tough guy and I hope you can enjoy reading this despite it being pretty far away from everything else on this blog.

Warnings: mentions of torture, violence, weapons, PTSD, profanity, explicit sexual themes but also so much fluff and softness

A/N pt. 2: I base this on Ghost's backstory according to the comic books as well as the video games but this is just my take so if you imagined him differently, that is totally valid!

* * *

Firstly and most importantly, Simon is a very different in his private life compared to his work; meaning he is good at separating the violent side of his work life from the life he has with you.

He must be the softest, the most gentle person there is when he is with you. I think he is very shy in the beginning as well as in early relationship given how his father treated him growing up. It is not that Simon wouldn't trust you, it's more that he would not trust himself. After all, after the Manuel Roba operation, he was tortured for months and came out with severe anger issues.

However, he was able to resolve this when he re-joined the military and engaged therapy but the scars remained: both mental as well as physical.

The reason why Ghost never takes off his mask is because of the scars Vernon and the lot left on his face (and the rest of his body). They are healed now but whenever he sees them in the mirror, he is reminded of everything he has been through, especially the loss of his family.

After Simon had told you why he keeps his mask on even in private life, at least the bottom part, you would not mind it as much but you would also reassure him that the way you feel about him could never be changed by some scars.

Needless to say, Simon would be very, very protective of you. He has lost everyone he has ever loved and cared about and he would never allow the same happen with you. It must be said though that Simon is not possessive. He above all knows the importance of freedom, especially when it comes to making choices about yourself and your comfort.

Still, Simon would face some control issues when you'd go out on your own. At work, he is used to being in charge of everybody, making sure everyone is safe and manning their positions. But with you, he needs to remind himself you are not going to war but just out with your friends, out grocery shopping, out to the library or somewhere. The thought of losing you drives him insane. He could never forgive himself if it happened when he could be by your side instead.

It goes without saying though that Simon prefers the comfort of his home to just about any other place. Clubs give him anxiety and the loud music triggers his PTSD, bars and restaurants are okay here and there but there is no place like home.

He does enjoy hiking and walking with you though.

Simon is romantic by heart so picnics in the nature would be his go-to dates. A bottle of wine, cheese and olives, a blanket in a spot with a view... You'd trace his features gently with the tip of your finger; the curve of his nose, his lips where he'd take your hand in his and kissed it softly as you would lay together in a secluded spot somewhere.

Bonus: when you decide to go home, Simon would never let you help carry any of the things he'd brought. Maybe the blanket but everything else, he'd pile up in his massive arms and carry them all the way home while barely seeing over the heap.

When it comes to sex, Simon would be just as reserved as with taking off his mask in the beginning. He would need much assurance from you that you really wanted to be with him intimately before trying anything.

Contrary to popular belief, Simon would never do anything that could even remotely hurt you when you had sex (or otherwise). On the one hand, he is well aware of his size and strength, and on the other, it is his childhood trauma that keeps him from trying anything that could potentially hurt you (even choking, spanking, etc. is not something he is comfortable with) even if you'd ask him to experiment.

Simon has seen, felt and inflicted too much violence in his life to have it included in his love life as well. All he wants to do is make you feel safe and loved especially when you have sex because this is one of the ways he expresses his love to you.

His sex drive is not that high but when you do have sex, he likes to make it special and intimate. Simon is very serious about it and wants you to enjoy yourself more than anything. To be honest, just seeing you climax causes him do the same.

He enjoys going down on your very much; the intimacy, the softness of your moans, his arms locked around your thighs when his fingers are not intertwined with yours.

Simon's favourite part though is the aftercare. He loves cuddling with you. Physical touch is yet another of his love languages although he was very reserved in the beginning of the relationship.

He is the big spoon the majority of time but sometimes (his favourite) Simon lays his head on your chest, wraps his arms around your waist and lets you play with his hair. He can fall asleep almost instantly.

It cannot be stressed enough that Simon never ever EVER raises his voice at you. Even when you are having an argument (which is not often), he never yells much less gets violent in any way.

He is a great listener and despite not saying much a lot of the time, Simon communicates well although he struggles very much to word his feelings.

After an argument or just for no particular occasion at all, Simon gets you flowers (a lot) - and different kinds every time. Another way for Simon to apologize is to cook for you. He is not very good at it but it is the effort that counts.

When he is away on a mission, Simon calls you a lot just to hear your voice, especially when he is too stressed to fall asleep. Your voice calms him down and help him get some rest but also reassures him you are alright whilst he is not there to keep you safe.

Simon likes to listen about your day, your feelings and your ideas. It keeps his mind far away from dark places. But every now and again, he would trust you with a fragment of his memories when his thoughts are just too loud. You know how precious and how rare it is that Simon opens up to you.

You don't say anything when he talks about his memories and his family but you always hold his hand, brushing your thumb across his calloused knuckles or drawing gentle shapes against his broad back.

You pepper his skin with soft kisses when his voice quietens and lead his head to rest against your chest as you pet his hair.

He likes to listen to you sing too, even if your voice is not the greatest. Even just humming a random melody and feeling your chest vibrate softly beneath his cheek will ease his heart.

Random bonus: Simon drinks English breakfast, no cream and one cube of sugar and has an occasional cigarette with it (Marlboro).

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley imagine #modern warefare 2 x reader #modern warfare 2

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lillithhearts · 2 months

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heya!! i have an idea brewing and i rly enjoy your blog so I thought I’d come request from you c:

vox x fem!s/o who was a hollywood actress when she was alive? he initially takes interest in knowing her from a career perspective but it turns into something more 🤭

thank you if you take my rq! 🙏☺️

Vox x Reader˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

I actually love this idea!! Sorry for the lack of fics today I wanted to get some done but I had a horrible day I'm really sorry :((

Reader is Female!

Depending on the time frames he might've even seen some of the movies you were in! Since he died in the 1950s and his view on you was always positive; you were an amazing actress, you seemed sweet and cooperative. So he was shocked when you ended up in Hell and then also agreed to work with him!

He takes very good care of you when you worked with him, brought you to expensive restaurants saying it's "for business talk" buying you flowers and things you generally liked because "he saw it on the way over" so you never went an interaction without him giving you something, it eventually evolved into more personal gifts; necklaces, dresses, shoes, makeup. You name it he buys it to the point you finally decide to ask him on a date to which he pouts before happily agreeing, he was upset at himself for not asking you first; be a gentleman and ask you out proper. He didn't disappoint for a first date either, fanciest places; done up to the nines, holding up doors, pulling out chairs hell! He'd even ruin his suit to put it over a puddle for you so you don't ruin your new good shoes. His hand always on the small of your back as you held onto his arm; talking about whatever you both wanted at that time.

His voice was gentle, compassionate and warm; his gaze on you soft and at ease; his worries and the stresses of his day gone with your sweet melodic voice swirling around him, your sweet laughs and the small snorts you quickly apologize for as he waves his hand; a cheeky cheesy smile on his screen as he tells you how adorable you are, his clawed hand holding your cheek looking at you smiling up at him. After a few dates he politely asks you back to his place if you agree he's quietly jumping around, kicking his feet and giggling like a highschool girl in love, he opens the door for you and invites you up; he never brought in alcohol into the dates, wanting fully sober you as he got to know you; he sat you down on the couch and got everything ready, asking you to pick your favorite movie or show; his arms wrapping around your body as if you were a glass doll like any amount of pressure would shatter your delicate body into pieces; half the time he wasnt focusing on the movie or show instead looking you, his sweet girl in his arms giggling and ranting on about the thing playing.

You both would eventually fall asleep in an uncomfortable position on the couch, your body laying between his legs; resting your head on his chest, Vox's hands wrapped around you; tightly holding you against him as if he let go you'd fade away from him. The next morning he didn't want to get up, just look at you and ramble about weird, insignificant things as you laughed And joked, your laughs vibrating against his chest while you laid still on top of his chest, he time seemed to stop when he was with you, his little star; his movie girl.

Author's note : I? AAAAAA I hope this is up to par- I'm going through a rough patch of hating everything I make😭😭

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel

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kisakis-boyfriend · 3 months

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I've been waiting for your requests to open back up! Hopefully I've made it in time lmao. I've been dying to request something with Mitusya.

I've always imagined Mitusya being a romantic person and I can totally see him setting up a date or a surprise for the reader after not seeing each other for a while because of their work schedules not lining up correctly, due to the holidays making him busier than normal. Like him making the readers favorite dinner and just taking care of them before they end up making love in front of the fire place.

Hopefully that fits the winter theme well enough, if not I do apologize

Pairings: Mitsuya x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, soft dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Mitsuya, soft sex, blowjob, riding

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

“–and then the manager went ballistic on like three people today...it was stressful just to overhear...”

“Wow. That's crazy. I'm sorry you had to deal with all of that, sweetheart.” Mitsuya's voice came through your phone speaker, sounding sincere as always while you ranted about work on your walk home.

“Thanks, babe. It's so stupid– the holiday shifts, I mean. I can't wait to get home and forget about it all.” You laughed, digging through your bag for your keys. A sigh escaped as you lamented, “I just wish you were here with me too...I hate that neither of us have time off during holidays...”

“Mm. Me too.” Your partner hummed in agreement. As much as you loved hearing his voice almost every night, it wasn't enough. Winter was the busiest season for both of you, and there was never any time to visit each other during. It had been nearly a whole month since you had a physical date! A month! Eating takeout together on a video call was fun, but you missed in-person dates dearly...

The keys clinked against each other as you fumbled with pushing your house key into the lock, turning the doorknob and entering your toasty home a second later. “I really miss you, Taka...” the sadness layered under your breath was not lost to Mitsuya, nor was it lost to yourself, cursing yourself mentally for sounding so depressed.

His soft, reassuring voice came through again, “I miss you too. I'm sure we'll get to see each other real soon, y/n. I guarantee that.” The love weaved into his words brought a small smile to your lips, already daydreaming about your next date. But... something quickly caught your attention. When Mitsuya spoke, it sounded as though his voice also came from your kitchen? Like some sort of echo effect.

“Taka? Can you say that again?” You asked, a bit concerned and confused.

“Uh, sure– I guarantee that, y/n.”

In complete disbelief, your eyes widened and you ran straight towards your kitchen, rounding the corner and just barely preventing yourself from slamming into the wall. Standing next to the counter was none other than–

“TAKAAAA!!” You exclaimed, running directly into your partner's arms, nearly dropping your phone and knocking Mitsuya over at the same time.

Laughter filled the room, along with your happy sobbing, while you bear hugged your poor lover to death. “M-missed you too, y/n. Haha...ah, your hands are freezing...”

“Sorry–!!” you immediately removed your bare hands from his skin, trying to warm them up a bit by rubbing them together. “I just can't– How?! When?!”

“I asked to go home early today. Thought I might surprise you,” Mitsuya explained while cupping your face, warming up your cheeks in the process, “consider this an early Christmas present.”

“I love you so fucking much, Taka...” You whispered before catching your partner by surprise with a hungry kiss.

No longer sulking from the awful stress of work, the two of you sat down and had a lovely dinner; Mitsuya had prepared your favorite meal and set up the dining table with a few candles and a nice bottle of wine to share.

Afterwards, while he was taking care of the dishes, you walk up behind him...

“You're too sweet...I can help with these, you know?” your arms wrapped around Mitsuya's waist. He can be such a housewife most of the time, but it was very appreciated.

“Nope. I told you, I'll take care of everything. Food, dishes, putting the leftovers away. You, my darling, can just relax.” His words were enough to make you cry sometimes. What did you do to deserve someone this thoughtful and kind?

A chuckle left him as you nuzzled into his neck, breath tickling his skin slightly. “-love you...you're too good to me...” For a split second, it seemed as though you were going to cry. Tears welled up in the inner corners of your eyes, and a familiar heat rose underneath the skin of your face, but you choked it down quickly. Instead kissing Mitsuya's neck, exposed by his open collar.

“Whoa- Take it easy, babe.” Mitsuya laughed, bracing himself against the counter when you pressed forward, kissing lower, kissing harder, “We, aah... We have all night for that–” He trailed off, succumbing to his growing desire. Ah fuck it

Neck kisses turned into shoulder kisses, turned into unbuttoning Mitsuya's shirt, turned into stumbling over towards the couch, turned into sloppy kissing while your shirt was discarded, turned into grinding against each other, turned into stripping down to nothing, turned into Mitsuya flipping you so that you were on your back now–

“I did all this to you, huh?” He teased, with eyes fixed on your leaking cock. Your lover's lips were on your dick within seconds; kissing the base and working up to the head. Shiny precum smeared on his lips as he worshipped your cock, finally taking it into his warm mouth, humming with just the tip in his mouth.

Your only light source was the glow of embers from the fireplace, lovingly lit by your partner before you came home so that the house would be warm and cozy. The flickering orange lighting suited Mitsuya wonderfully. Casting just enough light onto his face so that you can make out his features, yet still dark enough to reflect in his eyes — causing his gaze to appear more piercing. Your partner kept eye contact with you as he bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks. The feeling had you throwing your head back against the couch cushion, so close to an orgasm already, thanks to Mitsuya's skills.

Before you could cum though, Mitsuya popped off of your cock and sat up, lining his hole — that he had casually been fingering while he sucked your dick — up with it. Steadying himself against your chest, he slowly eased himself lower and lower; you had to bite your lip to prevent a flurry of curses from coming out. The way your partner's insides molded to your shape — it was an indescribably pleasurable sensation.

“Takashi...f-feels good- Need you c-closer...” You moaned, pulling him down and into a passionate kiss. As Mitsuya ground his hips against yours the room seemed to spin. Between his groans of pleasure, the mumbled words in between kisses, and the feeling of his body pressed oh so close against yours–

Mitsuya tightened around you, his moans grew louder, and finally... “G-going to...ah! Cum...y/n- ” With your hasty encouragement, your lover came and white globs painted your stomachs — you'll clean up later though.

“Fuck I'm gonna–!! Hnngh—!! ” Moments after his, your own release followed, pumping a load of cum into Mitsuya's ass. After clenching for a few seconds your muscles finally went slack, followed by a deep sigh of content.

The two of you laid there for a while, tangled together and bathed in warmth. You remained like this for some time; together. With Mitsuya's head laying on top of your chest and your fingers brushing through his hair, lightly tickling his skin as you trailed along his back. You couldn't have asked for a better night than this

#my writing #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya smut #mitsuya x reader #sub mitsuya #male reader #dom reader #top reader #oneshot #winter specials ❄️#requested #mitsuya x you #tokyo rev x male reader #mitsuya x male reader

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sugarlywhispers · 7 months

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b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. swear words, cheating.

☆– i got inspired to write this angst while i was watching Grey's Anatomy, SPOILER ALERT, the episode where Alex leaves Jo and goes back with Izzy.

☆– okay, so, in this blog, we support old, grown up, calmed down mineta. i read a fanfic once (i can't remember the name! ill try to find it🙈) where mineta had cooled down his thirst for women and became a great friend (still with the double meaning of things, but funny actually), and i thought "okay, if we accept redeemed bakugou, we can accept redeemed mineta". in fanfiction, cuz he's still a stupid, hormonal kid in the manga/anime. so expect more cool mineta bestie here, cuz i like and enjoy double meaning humor. if it's not your cup of tea, you're welcome not to read this🤍

It takes a second, a breath, the entrance of air on your lungs to realize. To assimilate what happened, what it means.

"I brought a bottle of wine, some snacks and ice cream… Nothing heals the heart better than ice cream, talking about personal experience here," his voice says, but you're barely paying attention. You even saw him come into your apartment like it's his own, like he has done it thousands of times. But you don't leave your standing position by the door.

You saw the silhouette of Mineta, tall and broad shoulders through the peephole of the entrance door, and for a second you thought it was him. Even though they look nothing alike. But you thought… you wished it was him.

Bakugou Katsuki.

Reality hurts.

Reality… is a bitch.

It takes a second to blink, to watch how everything changes, how everything falls apart in the simple action of closing and opening one's eyes.

You never thought it would happen to you. You thought he was it for you. You thought Bakugou Katsuki was going to be the one true love of your life. You trusted him. You gave him years of your life. Years where you thought he was the most amazing thing that ever happened to you. Years where you gave up dreams to help and support him in his dreams. And how does he thank you? Cheating. Choosing somebody else over you. Choosing her over you.

"I also heard hooking up with someone else also helps," Mineta jokes, snorting at his own ridiculous words. You know he is joking, he is your best friend and he has always joked this way. You know it. But… the heaviness in your chest doesn't know it. The pain in your heart doesn't know it.

"I'm not offering though… Don't take it personal, love. I love you and you're one the hottest hotties around here, but you're not exactly my type." He chuckles, taking the things he brought on bags over the counter of your kitchen.

You can see him from your position because it's not that far away, your apartment isn't big. When you and Bakugou went apartment hunting two months ago, you didn't want anything big and ostentatious. You simply wanted a home, whether that be a one room apartment.

It had been a home... Or so you thought.

Now, this apartment feels like a prison. A cell where it doesn't hold enough oxygen to breathe. Where every single corner reminds you of him. Where every single item and thing picked to decorate or to use, spoke about him. Him and you.

And there wasn't a "him and you" anymore.

Everything was a reminder of what him and you were.

There fucking isn't a "him and you" anymore.

"He left me," you breathe out, hand trembling over the doorknob.

Mineta turns around then. He sees you, shaking by the closed door at the entrance of your apartment. Hand holding the doorknob with strength, like your whole body depends on that contact to not fall apart. But your face… He has never seen you like this.

It's blank. And it's full of sentiment, emotions that hurt to actually see. Dark circles under your eyes. The skin of your face is pale, almost like a sick person; and that worries him. You're barely holding everything inside.

You are barely looking like your usual self.

Your breathing starts to agitate when you let go of the doorknob and turn your body a bit towards his direction. Then, your eyes find his.

"He… He just left me… And I–... I can't… I can't breathe," you finally cry.

You haven't cried since he confessed he had cheated on you with his ex-girlfriend, Uraraka Ochako. And that he has been doing it for three months. You did cry in that moment, but you haven't done it again. Not even when you broke the news to Mineta two days after–if you could describe your best friend's reaction, it would be murderous. It had been the first time you had seen Mineta Minoru that furious–. And you haven't even cried when you told Midoriya Izuku about what his actual girlfriend had been doing with your now ex-boyfriend. You remembered watching clearly the slow break of the number one Pro Hero's heart right through his eyes.

You haven't cried again until now.

Why? Because today, you woke up to a message that said: "I'll pick up my stuff and leave the key at the apartment. I'll go in the morning when you're at work so I don't bother you." When you came back from work at 5pm today, Bakugou Katsuki had done as he promised. His clothes were no longer there, just more space for you to hang and organize your clothes. His computer set-up was no longer there, just an empty desk that you could use as your little home office. His shoes were no longer by the door, just empty space that you didn't know how to fill up.

The apartment is small, but it feels huge now that his things are no longer there.

You immediately texted Mineta: "S.O.S.", and it didn't take even an hour for him to appear with all this stuff he bought to make you feel better.

As you finally broke down on your knees, sobbing uncontrollably like you couldn't bring enough air to your lungs, Mineta knew any silly thing he could bring would be able to help you heal.

Because the only one able to heal this pain inside you… is yourself.

But you're broken now. And Mineta's heart breaks with yours.

As he kneels beside you and holds you in his arms, he prays his friendship is enough to help you put yourself back together. And if not, Mineta prays to whatever exists up there that they send someone that can help you heal your heart with the devotion you deserve.

As you cry in your best friend's chest, you don't hear the little sound of a new notification on your phone. It's a message, that says:

"Hi, Y/N. It's Midoriya… I was just thinking that… only if you want to, if not it's okay… we could go grab a coffee together sometime. Just if you feel like it. Just… let me know if you want."

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha angst #bnha angst #mha bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #mha midoriya izuku x reader #mha midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya izuku x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya angst #bakugou angst

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