#i wish i could say ‘’he respects her boundaries’’ without it being a jab at pretty much every other character

[wannaeatramyeon]

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Moon and Tide

F!Reader. Colleagues to Lovers. Mitsuki leaves, Ryuhei has some realisations.

Ryuhei experiences his first heartbreak at nineteen.

(In truth, his heart had broken time and time again with his unrequited love. Each time that Mitsuki dismisses him, each time he saw her with Shiba Inu.

But each time he used to see her, he also fell in love all over again too.)

.

.

Shortly after Sinu Han leaves, Mitsuki also departs.

"What?!" Ryuhei slams both fists down on the boardroom table, "Then I quit." 

"Haven't you harassed her enough? She obviously doesn't want you to follow." Samuel Seo gazes over the top of his glasses, smirk on his face and relishing the blonde's distress.

"Watch your mouth." Ryuhei snarls, low and menacing, a clear warning as any.

"Samuel is right," Eugene is calm, voice even. "Please respect Mitsuki's wishes this one time." Unlike all the other times you've ignored her boundaries does not need to be said.

The room stills at his words. The chairman has spoken, although it does nothing to dissipate the tension. The air hangs heavy. Like an elastic band stretched taut, to its limits. 

Samuel observes Mandeok tensing and Ryuhei’s nostrils flaring, and he wonders who will break first.

Ryuhei's eyes flit around the room. The silence, lack of support, from Kenta or even yourself is damning.

"Fuck you," he hisses. Leaving, not wanting to be here a second longer.

The door slams, reverberating off the walls.

"My apologies for Ryuhei's interruptions," Eugene gestures to you, "In Mitsuki's absence, Y/N will take on her duties and title."

You give a curt nod to the rest of the room, acknowledging your promotion, but your eyes stay glued to Ryuhei's empty seat.

.

.

To both of your surprise, you're the first one to reach out.

(You like to think it’s you fulfilling your new duties as president. The alliance, the uncomplicated relationship you always had with Ryuhei helped too.)

Gently knocking on his room door, calling his name. The voice, the tone, the pitch pulls him out of his mood. Briefly, for a second, before he realises the two of you sound nothing alike.

"Go away," 

He watches you respond by jiggling the handle aggressively. So much so that the entire door shakes then a second later - it opens with you striding in.

"That's handy," Ryuhei, lying in bed, glances over at you rearranging the pins back into your hair, "And a complete invasion of my privacy."

"Like you ever cared about anyone's privacy,"

Right. Another jab about Mitsuki. One that he used to take on the chin because it's true, he's not ashamed. He pines after her openly, certain that everyone in 2A would have heard of his antics by now, if not the whole of Workers.

Tonight is a different story. It's less the wound being raw and tender and more Ryuhei is missing an entire limb.

How can she leave without saying goodbye?

He misses her.

Ryuhei throws the covers over his head.

The message is clear though not enough to drive you out or to muffle your voice.

"You have 3 days to get yourself together, then I need you by my side."

Fuck off he wants to say. But what's the point anymore? 

"I have negotiations that could go wrong. I need all the manpower I can get my hands on."

Like you wouldn't be able to handle it by yourself, a small voice in his brain retorts.

Whatever. This, Workers, everything has all been a complete waste of his time.

.

.

Ryuhei was officially Mitsuki's bodyguard, and it makes sense that his duties now extend to you.

Everything else thus far has transitioned smoothly, except your current dilemma: how do you deal with a bodyguard that doesn't want to guard you?

After the three days, you barge in at the crack of dawn and try to wrestle him out of bed. Out of the room that stinks of despair and depression.

A one sided obsession that has run its course, ended in the best way it could. You don't voice these thoughts out loud.

Ryuhei is a dead weight in your arms, childish and insolent and completely unhelpful. 

He's a grown man. There's little you can do.

Your lips crease thin with fury but no words spill forth.

You leave without him.

.

.

It's a full week later that Ryuhei musters up enough energy to crawl out of bed, throwing on something half presentable to stretch his legs.

Wandering the corridors, guilt creeps over him when he sees you talking to Kenta, right arm bandaged and in a sling.

Kenta nods at his friend's reappearance, you ignore him completely.

Well. He supposes he deserves that.

.

.

Seeing you kick starts a little change. 

Not a lot, enough to get Ryuhei out of bed every day and put up an appearance of semi-normality. Key word: semi.

He slumps over a desk half the time, willing away the hours by fiddling with the edges of papers and documents, heart aching.

(A small part of him, maybe the most pathetic part, wants to doodle Mitsuki's name over and over.)

Other times he takes to training with a ferocity that surprises himself.

The only moments he feels anything other than a hollowness is when he's by your side. Eyes constantly attracted to your broken arm. 

Steel pins, Kenta had mentioned, face grim as he clicks his lighter, adding that it was only thanks to your quick thinking the executives of Workers made it out alive.

Huh, it was that bad?

.

.

The guilt builds, claws under his skin and at his conscience. Could have sworn you were ambidextrous except now he watches you struggle with your dominant hand out of action. 

He's not sure if it's out of stubbornness or forgetfulness that you have used chopsticks all week. Albeit your dexterity has vastly improved since Monday, watching you is nothing short of exasperating.

Ryuhei’s peace offering comes in the form of a spoon.

You've barely exchanged words since that day where you tried to hoist him out of bed. Only on a needs-must basis. Terse and to the point.

You were thoroughly pissed off and everyone knew it.

Righteous in your anger at first. You had explicitly said that you needed all hands on deck, implicitly asked for his help and frustrated he couldn't separate his personal feelings enough to do his job when there are lives at stake. Over the past couple weeks, your ire has reduced, cooled until he is now nothing but a thorn in your side.

"Go on, just take it," The thorn in your side holds out the utensil.

You ignore him.

"Or else I could just feed you?" He offers, a hint of mischief returning to his eyes.

Ryuhei huffs when you tell him he can try if he wants a broken arm to match yours.

.

.

Inch by inch, you thaw.

Would have thawed quicker if Ryuhei lessened his efforts to get back into your good graces, causing headaches and extra work more often than not.

Still, he tries. Following you around, part bodyguard, part puppy. You appreciate it in hindsight. It’s almost cute.

Little by little, he also regains the bounce in his step.

.

.

Ryuhei tries once to contact Mitsuki.

She says she has no plans to return or to see him again.

She doesn't offer anything else.

He stays silent the whole time.

.

.

Some may consider that a form of closure, Ryuhei isn’t sure. Things at least get slightly easier after that.

Once an all encompassing searing pain, the hurt and heartbreak eventually settles and dulls into a throb.

Normalcy becomes less of a facade.

Ryuhei flips off Eugene in earnest, tells Samuel Seo to eat shit with sincerity, struts 2A with his confident gait once more.

"Nomen," you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. Even with your mask on, he can hear the smile in your voice. "It's good to have you back."

"Yeah," he agrees. It is good to be back.

.

.

Not everything is smooth sailing, however.

In his more melodramatic moments, in which there are many, Ryuhei vows never to love again, never to so much as gaze at another woman, and promises a lifetime of chastity.

You snort at the declarations.

"What?" He snaps and you pointedly return his gaze as he remains indignant, "You don't count."

You let that particular one slide but- "Who's going to sleep with you anyway, you're a pathetic asshole."

"A very handsome pathetic asshole," he corrects.

"Hmm." Yet you don't disagree.

It's only later that day, stuck in another godforsaken meeting with you and Eugene, when boredom strikes and his mind wanders that Ryuhei realises that you didn't refute his claim.

He watches you, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed.

Huh.

.

.

Ryuhei doesn't care about you, not like he cares about Mitsuki. Though he doesn't care about anyone the same way he cares (cared?) about her.

It's not personal.

His relationship with you has always been easy, flirtatious without intent. 

Sharp words and double entendres litter your conversations. Fun during the better moments, aggravating during others. Skin deep, superficial. He doesn't know you beyond the limits of your words, not really, and the experience is mutual.

Others have commented on your strength and character before. Formidable. A force to be reckoned with.

Even more have taken note of your looks, a common water cooler topic. 

To Ryuhei, you're like the moon. Sure you're nice to look at. Yet when Mitsuki is the stars and beyond; dazzling, glittering with untold adventures, how can anyone possibly compare?

.

.

(In the end, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Though not in the way Ryuhei expects.)

.

.

He carries out his new bodyguard tasks without complaint. 

It only made sense with your arm out of commission, and him technically and almost literally being your right hand man, that he carries your bag, your coffee too. Really, whatever you need.

What’s more, he now knows you take your coffee exactly like him. Quadruple shot, milky and disgustingly sweet.

Spends more time scrolling on your phone than a president probably should.

Hate sitting with your back to the door. And in meetings where there are no other options, Ryuhei makes sure to position himself opposite instead of being next to you. Himself sat where you would have preferred. One eye on any potential dangers, and giving a reassuring, roguish smile that eases your worries.

Bags under your eyes naturally mean a poor night’s sleep. Bags under your eyes and hair in a ponytail means you do not want to be here today. Something you would never voice out loud, but Ryuhei can read you anyway. 

On those days, he makes sure he’s always one step ahead and extra considerate. He’s not completely altruistic, he also doesn’t want to be shouted at again.

.

.

The emptiness still comes and goes, catches him out when he least expects it. Usually he feels Mitsuki’s absence more than remembers her presence.

Ryuhei notices you a bit more too, these days. Ever since your offhand agreement.

The way you say his name is nothing like how she used to. The way you look at him is nothing like how she used to. 

It’s actually warmer.

.

.

“You fucking idiot,” your tone is a complete contrast to your gentle hands, now completely healed and bandaging up his instead.

Ryuhei pouts with mock hurt and you roll your eyes. You will not give him sympathy, not for this.

(A yelp diverted your attention earlier today, and you rushed to find Kenta holding his lighter and Ryuhei cradling his own hand, wincing in pain.

You took one look at the two guilty faces and realised that the blonde moron wanted to learn how to set his finger alight like Kenta without hurting himself.

Ryuhei is one thing, but you expected better from Kenta. You turn to him, disappointment painted on your face and tell him exactly that.

“What about me!” Ryuhei had the audacity to pipe up. You roughly snatched his wrist and dragged him away.)

“Don’t set yourself on fire again,” you punctuate each word by sharply jabbing him in the chest with your finger.

Ryuhei flutters his eyelashes at you in a way he thinks must be quite charming and endearing. Who knows where the hell he got that idea from. You’re tempted to gouge out his eyes more than anything.

Somehow, you manage to resist. You also refrain from rolling your eyes at him again.

(You worry if you do that anymore, they might get permanently stuck and never return back to normal.)

.

.

Ryuhei studies his injured hand. Lying in bed, other hand behind his head, holding it up into the direct path of the silver moonlight cutting through the darkness.

He moves it, angles it this way and that. Letting the highlights and shadows illuminate your neat handiwork.

Something about this makes him feel funny. A little light headed.

He can’t recall the last time anyone touched him so kindly. Can’t recall anyone ever taking care of him when he’s been hurt before.

If he squints and looks at the neat little knot just right, he can almost see a heart shape.

.

.

It’s odd.

Were you always this flirtatious? Was he always this coquettish with you?

Did you always return his taunts with such a sparkle in your eyes?

When did you start having so many inside jokes, your own moments snickering together?

And it’s like he can finally see you. No longer subjected to his previous tunnel vision, he finally understands what everyone has been saying.

You’re much more stunning than Ryuhei remembers.

He also doesn’t remember your smile making him feel this way before.

Lastly, he remembers saying ‘you don’t count’. His words have come back to bite him.

.

.

Ryuhei wakes up at his usual time on a Wednesday.

It’s a nothing special sort of day.

Slinks out of his bed like he usually does, goes about his day as he usually does, teases you with intention and a quickened pulse. Which�� ok, that one is new.

All in all. It’s fine. It’s an unremarkable Wednesday.

Except the dull ache in his chest, one he has had to endure for the last couple months, isn't there anymore.

.

.

There’s a different type of guilt at play.

First-

When you’re used to something for years and years, it takes time to break out of a habit. For the first time, Ryuhei begins to see his attachment to Mitsuki as the unhealthy obsession that it is. 

He’s not fully ready to pick this apart just yet.

Second-

How do you separate a rebound from something real? That you’re not just a replacement, a new person to pass the time?

And that idea, that you’re a replacement for anything, shocks him. It’s unimaginable to think of you as a passing fancy because you deserve so much better.

That really should have given him an inkling. 

On the other hand. When Ryuhei has only surrounded his love life with the one red flag, and himself being the other red flag too… he has a lot to learn.

.

.

Unfortunately you did get one thing right: Ryuhei is pathetic. His baseline personality is an absolute simp. 

Maybe it would have been different if his informative years played out differently. Alas.

Alone, he tries to dissect his thoughts and feelings. In your company, he is much more simple. Constantly wanting to capture your attention, which you give easily and with minimal conditions. 

Ryuhei can now read you like the back of his hand, knows your preferences so well that he’s able to anticipate your needs before they develop into needs. Wants, at best. Perhaps not even that.

And when other people look at you, the desire shown easily on their face that he has tried to tamper down, his possessiveness and jealousy flares.

Unsubtle shoulder barges and sneers are thrown in their direction.

But Ryuhei is nothing if not patient. He supposes it won’t be so bad if you turn him down and you’re happy with someone else.

He’s used to that.

Giving you the opportunity to turn him down though, he’s not sure yet how to go about.

.

.

Conveniently, an opportunity does arise.

Celebrating the new Fifth Affiliates, Eugene had said, showing his face at the gathering for about ten minutes before leaving. 

Then the two newbies, who Ryuhei doesn’t bother to get the names of because he sure as hell doesn’t want to know anyone with tacky ‘H’ tattoos (on their forehead and neck for crying out loud!), leave shortly after.

Ryuhei also considers it a small victory when Samuel Seo departs, after a very witty verbal sparring to see who can tell each other to fuck off in increasingly creative ways.

“You’re so fucking juvenile,” you sigh, though you begrudgingly admit that you were impressed throughout that display.

“At least I got the last word in,” Ryuhei grins, giving the finger to Samuel’s retreating back.

The room empties out at a quicker rate now that the non-mandatory, completely optional (if you want to keep your job) gathering is devoid of the more severe senior management.

No more than another 30 minutes pass and only you and Ryuhei remain. Two small figures in an oversized room, full of empty tables but one.

Ryuhei rests one elbow on the table, propping up his head and looks at you with a cocky smile.

“Remember when I said I’m never going to gaze at anyone ever again? That was a lie.”

“Really.” You deadpan, resisting once more the urge to roll your eyes. It might be the most difficult thing you have ever had to do.

“I lied when I said you don’t count too.”

Ryuhei, for all his flaws, has only ever been forthright with his emotions. In his own roundabout and very sex-pest way with Mitsuki, though he did confess in the end. As for right now, well, he has learned his lesson.

You give him a response he didn’t expect.

“I think you should spend more time on your own first.”

.

.

Ryuhei is immediately placed on a leave of absence the next day.

You explain clearly to him as he sits opposite, his very official letter scrunched in his fist and feeling extremely petulant, that while you do like him, he needs some distance to everything.

He only hears the first part. You like him? You? Like? Him? The words swim round and round in his mind.

“Ryuhei,” you snap your fingers and him out of his daze.

“Then what’s the problem?” he whines.

“Don’t make me into another Mitsuki,” Ryuhei opens his mouth to argue that he won’t, there is no way- 

“Ryuhei,” you repeat his name again in an authoritative tone that leaves no room for argument. Echoing your words from yesterday. “You need to spend more time on your own. This is non negotiable.”

.

.

Ryuhei sulks like there is no tomorrow.

Tries to manifest you outside his door but to no avail. He doesn’t see you at all.

That just about surmises his first week.

.

.

The week after, he thinks about you. How strange that you started as colleagues, almost friends first. How well he actually knows you.

Now months after Mitsuki has left, Ryuhei can only piece together fragments of her.

Even still, he had never seen the whole picture. He never knew her in her entirety, only the portrait he painted.

What becomes exceedingly clear is his one sided behaviour.

.

.

The fog, the rose tinted glasses fully lifts in the fourth week.

.

.

The sixth week he carefully pries open the past.

Gently picks apart what he wasn’t ready to before.

Moments of self reflection are painful, embarrassing. If the earth could open up and swallow him whole, he would gladly take it.

He still feels something for Mitsuki, though pertaining more to the remorse and shame side rather than anything else.

In an ideal world, he would seek her out and offer an apology for his past behaviour. However, in the real world, that only helps to alleviate his own conscience. 

He has already reached out once before and she has given her answer.

Nothing else from Ryuhei now would benefit either party.

.

.

Two full months later, Ryuhei sees you once again at work.

Your smile still makes his heart flutter and brain short wire.

Except he can now see you as a whole person, all your flaws and faults too. What he used to ignore with Mitsuki, blinded by his obsession. 

His feelings for you don't change.

.

.

Ryuhei wonders when he started to like you.

Thinks his heart liked you before his brain even realised. When the time is right, he needs to apologise for how long it took him to fully catch up.

.

.

He remembers thinking of you as the moon once, paling in comparison to the stars and the great beyond. 

That wasn’t quite fair. Wasn't accurate at all.

If you are the celestial body, luminous and hung high in the heavens by the gods themselves, then Ryuhei considers himself the tide.

He understands now, with its lunar radiance, there is nothing that comes close.

Quite simply: 月が綺麗ですね

(The moon is beautiful, isn't it?)

.

.

At twenty, Ryuhei experiences real love.

Experiences what it truly means to love and to be loved.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism fic #ryuhei kuroda #ryuhei kuroda x reader #ryuhei x reader #wannaeatramyeon #3.5k words on this fucking asshole #a little. maybe a lot OOC. #trying to break him out of Mitsuki's grasps #✨character growth✨ #making this pathetic meow meow less pathetic

[jacquesthepigeon]

I can’t make posts gushing about about how well Luka treats Marinette because it’ll inevitably become a semi salty comparison RIP

#i wish i could say ‘’he respects her boundaries’’ without it being a jab at pretty much every other character #the writing is so bad lol

[hawks-soup]

A Day with your Friends

A/N: Baby’s first smuttle (and fic) please be gentle. Also this is based off @libiraki​ boys! She is a writing inspiration to me. 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Degradation, Humiliation, Misogyny, Dubcon/Noncon. 

Pairings: Hawks / Shigaraki / Dabi x Reader

You should have known, really, you should have.. but it never failed to surprise you on how purely disgusting and sick-minded the people you hung around could be. Sure they were villains, murdered people, did petty small and large crimes, everything bad in the sense.. But you’d think being a part of their little gang would give you some relief from their behavior. Treat you with a bit of respect since you were team members ya know? “Pft Awee, c’mon doll we were just joking, don’t get your panties in a fucking twist!” Dabi rasped from across the room, snickers of delight joining his.

How wrong you were, but again, you knew and was used to it by now. 

_______________

“It was just a little pinch doll.. Didn’t mean nothing by it, just having a bit of fun is all. Right Shiggy? Bird boy?” Dabi purred out to you, Hawks comments of agreement following suit and a grunt from the leader himself.

“Oh I’m sure she liked it.. Just too flustered to admit it. Wouldn’t wear such revealing clothes around us if she didn’t want us to touch her.” Came Shigaraki’s low tone, nursing the drink he was given by his two male partners, who’d already finished off theirs.

Now Dabi and Shigaraki were one thing to deal with together. If anything Shiggy dear would roll his eyes and just ignore his burnt partners jabs at teasing you, never caring to give him the satisfaction of knowing they were on good enough terms to help torment you.. But with Hawks joining the team and hanging around the two, it’s like Shiggy was opened to the idea that messing with you was actually pretty fucking fun with the two playing with you. 

So now, he joined in the fun of making nasty remarks and grabbing at you like they did. Pulling at your shirt, tugging your skirt up, pinching any exposed skin.. Really, you wish he’d turn back into the hermit that stared at you every once in a while he once was and leave Dabi to being the only one that preyed on you, cause at least by himself he got bored. Now there were 3 of them on your heels. And whenever you’d complain to Kurogiri - hell even AFO whenever you got the chance - they gave the simple answer of ‘boys will be boys, little one.’ They are dealing with that time in their life ‘no they weren’t, they weren’t fucking teenagers popping boners whenever a girl breathed their way’, and they aren’t doing much harm are they? It’s typical for a guy to pick on the girl he’s attracted to, let them be and just try to deal with it.

“Come on baby bird.. We didn’t mean anything by it, come back to us.. I’ll let you sit on my lap and we can have an exclusive fan meet right here~.” The perverted bird brained male purred. You could hear a whistle after it, and assumed Dabi. Hawks.. Was interesting. Sometimes he came off as that billboard hero and would show some compassion, but flushed it right down the toilet when he got too comfortable. Who would have known he was a gross pervert along with the rest? Making sexual comments and too comfortably rubbing at an exposed skin you could offer. And with the way Dabi egged him on, he started to cross boundaries like smacking at your ass, and on the worst of days, using his feather to pull down your skirt whenever given the chance. You could have sworn you heard a camera shutter, but the bastard was quick enough to put away his phone before you could press him on it. But still, you couldn’t help but keep your rose-colored glasses on to the fact he was your favorite hero.. Or at least your hero crush. While you didn’t like heroes, you had to admit you were like any other girl who saw an attractive guy that could give an award winning smile. A little star-struck you could say.

“Yeah doll, come sit on his lap. Aren’t you a fan? This is a pretty big offer here. Hell, I’ll let you even sit on mine after.” “As if. And if you three are done, I’d like to leave now.”  You made your way out the kitchen to ‘throw away some trash’, but was really an excuse just to get away from them for a moment without them stopping you. You didn’t dare go back over to them though, opting to stand against the doorway of the kitchen that peered into the living rooming where they all sat. They’d pressured you into joining them at Dabi’s place to ‘hang around’ and ‘get to know your favorite hero crush’, and in your naiveness of believing their words of letting you hang around and fan over Hawks - despite your working in partner of villain status - you fell prey to being trapped in the run down apartment with them making sure you didn’t escape.

“What?? Awe com’on we just got here! Don’t run away yet little girl.” Dabi gave a fake pout. “I promise we won’t touch you anymore, feather. Just come back okay?” That charming smile and soft pat to the empty space on the couch between the two of them after. Shigaraki has yet to speak, more so one to get handsy rather than talk the talk like the other two.

“I.. don’t know. Do you guys promise to behave?” “We promise dove, just come back.” “We’ll be good dollface, let’s get back to having fun.” Naive at best, you poor fool.

_______________

Hands all over you, you just knew it would happen but it was your fault really for going back. Your shirt lifted up to expose your chest and skirt way over on across the floor after being carelessly tossed away. 

“You dress like this just to get us to notice you, don’t ya?” Too hot hands rubbing the pebbled nips as you were forced onto his lap, legs spread over his to leave you open for the rest.

“Fuck little bird, you always let them do this to you? And I thought I was special. Guess you are nothing but a common whore for us to play with like they say. You aren’t even in my lap, some fan you are.” Fake disappointment in his tone, but really he was enjoying rubbing at your clothed slit. Trying to wiggle his fingers into the sides of the fabric and get to your petaled flesh. Sitting right beside you both and pressed up as much as he could be. Shigaraki was near your legs - you could tell - breathing hard against your knee as his rough hand smoothed over your leg, the other rubbing your sock covered toes. “She’s nothing but a slut, bet she want’s to fuck her way to the top like the leech harlot she is. She’s always coming into my room, she wants me to do something to her.” He rasped, now licking at your knee with his wet tongue. He was drooling and it started to soak your socks.

“I’m just checking on you like Kurogiri as-a-AH! Stop!” Dabi’s fingers pinched harder, his other now yanking up at your panties to make them wedge into your pussy and between the lips. “Damn ain’t that cute. Bird brain, take a picture for me won’t you?” “Already on it my friend.. Fuck, you have a cute pussy. I can’t wait to use it. I bet you’re fucking tight, even with you being a little whore and all.” Shutters of the camera clicking every few seconds, telling he got a few and at different angles. His free hand spreading at your lips, tugging the tightened fabric over to the side, and even pressing his fingers to the entrance. Making sure to capture every move he made. “N-no guys seriously stop! I don’t wanna do this anymore! I wanna go home, please!” You cried, tears starting to leak down your cheeks the more violated and humiliated you felt. You didn’t like this feeling, your body may have been responding but god did this feel so wrong. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, aren’t you glad your favorite hero is giving you such special attention? You wear the cutest clothes around me, you wanted me to touch you.” “She wears these clothes everyday around us. She’s a little kitty in heat I bet. Besides, it’s your fault really. You should know better to hang around men all by yourself dressed like this.. Really, you want this I can tell.” Dabi purred into your ear, his grip and grabbing getting rougher now.

Your soft pleas of ‘no’s’ were ignored when you felt a finger dig it’s way deep into your slick heat. You cursed yourself for enjoying how the thick fingers explored and stretched you, deep humiliation bubbling in your tummy at their laughs and enjoyment from your embarrassment. You didn’t like this… You wanted them to stop and let you go. You needed a bath to wash away their touch.

“Your body knows what it wants. You’re such a dedicated fan aren’t you? You’re doing so good for me baby bird. Being our little slut, just for us only.” Hawks praise.. Felt so good. It ran shivers all up and down your body, causing you to mewl the more his big digits squished into your heat. Gods you couldn’t stop crying though, your brain knowing how fucked up this was. Even though your body felt pleasure, you still felt so dirty and wrong. The ‘stop’s’ and ‘no’s’ didn’t end though, your brain knew better than to give in to what your nerves felt.. This didn’t feel good, and you couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes, hoping for it to be over soon.

“Hey you fucking creep, be useful and hold the camera. Record her or something. Add some content to that spank bank you got on your computer, ya?” Dabi grunted behind you, bucking his hips up to steady you more firmly against his chest, causing that leathery bulge to buck against you. While one hand remained tormenting you poor tender tits, the other ran down to your cunny, rubbing at your little clit and adding more stimulation to the already thrusting fingers of Hawks.

“Fuck off asshat. Don’t got a spank bank..” Shigaraki mumbled from below, but snatched the camera from Hawks hand anyways and turned on the record function. Though even then he was still licking at your legs and rubbing his red-tipped member with his free hand, leaking pre-cum all over his hand and your foot. Was that camera truly angled? He didn’t know nor care, he just wanted to fucking cum. Assholes probably wouldn't send this to him anyways. “Better not be fucking shaky cause you can’t stop beating your meat, fucking virgin. Don’t wanna hear your desperate breathing either so keep it down.” Dabi teased, using his foot to kick at Shigaraki’s side with a laugh. And from the red tinting the pale cheeks, he knew he had gotten to him like always. “Fucking shut UP!” “What!? You’re the creep jacking it to her fucking feet when you got a perfectly wet cunt in your face! The hells wrong with you, ya’ nasty bastard?” 

“Can you both shut up and focus on that task at hand, giving my fan the spotlight. Looks like she’s close to… That right birdy? Gonna come for me… for us? You been dressing up like this to get our attention right? And now look at you, you got it and so much more~.” My how his fingers felt good, and you hated it. They had been nothing but perverted freaks towards you. Having their dirty gazes upon you and their hands fleeting on your clothes and body whenever you got within arm's reach of them. Only for your body to betray you in this way, what the hell was wrong with you..? Even with the rising knot in your stomach, you still hated the feeling.

“Come on sweet thing, let go for us.. Give us a show.” Dabi whispered in your ear, that that’s all it took paired with their stimulating fingers to ruin you. The spasm in your hips interrupts caused you to buck a little and gasp but cutting yourself off with the bite of a lip. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of hearing you cum along with seeing it.  “Nngh!” The feeling is unfair, unable to stop the jet of liquid that shoots out from in between your legs as you curl and uncurl your toes, trying hard to close your legs but your own body not allowing it. 

After having a moment to let your body somewhat settle, your hazy eyes looked down at the mess you made. Due to Shigaraki being in the line of fire, your fluids had gotten all over his face. He looked stunned for a moment, his body freezing up like a deer caught in headlights. You were a little worried that maybe he was angry, but once you felt the warm seeping into your socks you could tell he stiffened up cause he came… from humping your fucking feet. And to add onto it, your cum directly targeting him pushed him over the edge in a sudden pace he didn’t set.

Your eyes then flicker up to the two degenerates holding you at hearing the sound of coos, “Oh my, would look at that, little one just squirted.” Hawks teased, thankfully moving his fingers out of your sopping cunt onto your tummy, giving it soft grazes of affection. Dabi on the other hand wasn’t feeling as loving, giving you abused pussy a wet slap which caused you to jump. “Cumming all over him, and we’re the ones doing all the work.” Dabi tsk’ed, giving Shigaraki a sneer before kicking him again. “Enjoying it asshole? I hope you savor that, it’s the only time you’ll have a bitch squirt on you.” Which in turn caused Shigaraki to hiss at him and swipe at his leg that narrowly pulled away. He didn’t bother to respond though, not trusting his voice to come out without a stammer. He had to admit, the warm liquid on his face felt fucking hot, and after a quick swipe of his tongue, it tasted good.

All it took was for you to try to squirm your way out of Dabi’s lap to snap them all back to focusing on you. Shigaraki now dropping the phone to place both hands on your knees, Dabi’s rough hands finding your hips and digging into them, and Hawks gently grabbing your chin and pulling it to his direction. Those golden orbs hyper focused on you, almost like he was looking at a piece of meat. “Oh no where do you think you’re going feather? It would be unfair to not help us get off when we helped you. Come on, be a good little fan for me? I’ll even buy you something pretty after, for being such a good girl.”

You didn’t have a choice, you knew that for sure. All you could do is give a small nod before feeling warm lips pressed to yours. “Atta girl.”

#hawks x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #tw.noncon #tw. degradation #tw humiliation #bnha reader #oh wow im blushin a lil #these are gross mens but we love it

[kiki-shortsnout]

May I request frostiron Mpreg as a prompt? Thank you! 💜

Hey everyone! A few of you have asked if I'm still doing prompts. The answer is yes, but it does take me a while to write them, I do have a day job and restrictions on my time, plus I'm also working on my IronStrange Bigbang, so please be assured I will get to them all eventually, it will just take time! ❤️

Warnings for below: This is Alpha/Omega and contains Mpreg, just so everyone is aware! Also as it's me.....it's also much longer than I initially thought........

***

‘Sleepy,’ Tony groaned, flopping onto the couch and shoving his head in Loki’s lap. Weakly, he lifted his arms, attempting to bat Loki’s book away and have his full attention.

‘Tired, little Omega?’ Loki teased, his voice low as he closed his book and placed it down on the armrest. If anyone else had called him that, Tony would’ve torn a strip out of their hide, unleashing a verbal smackdown so powerful that it made even the toughest Alphas quake. As it was Loki, Tony accepted the words for what they were, a form of sarcastic affection.

Fingers tangled in his hair, and Tony all but purred at the attention, stretching his limbs out and melting into the couch beneath him, feeling safe in Loki’s hold.

Whatever this was between them, it was good. Loki had respected his boundaries ever since Tony had created the foundations of this…relationship. The Alpha had returned to Earth after his trial on Asgard, remorseful over his actions regarding the Battle of New York, but not quite able to apologize properly for it. The Avengers and SHIELD regarded him with hostility, despite knowing he had been held captive to a brainwashing scepter, waiting for the inevitable betrayal, but Tony had seen something different.

He had recognized something of himself in Loki. Tony knew how close he’d skirted the line of becoming a villain, how his choices in life could’ve been very different. He’d been drawn away from crossing that line many times by Pepper and Rhodey, but Loki didn’t have friends, struggled under different obligations, with only his mother believing he could be more.

Tony understood that all too well, a father that always saw reason to fault you, who always saw the worst in you, and a mother who believed in you.

Loki was one of the few Alphas who respected Tony for who he was, who seemed to enjoy the challenges and verbal sparring they had. He didn’t know if that was because of his Jotun heritage, or how Alphas were brought up on Asgard, but Tony had a sneaky feeling that secondary genders didn’t matter to someone who was neither Asgardian nor a Frost Giant, someone who was a bit of both, but not really either.

Just like Tony who had been raised to suppress his Omega characteristics, to overlap them with Alpha traits and now he was a paradox that didn’t fit into either category.

Like this now though, with Loki stroking through his hair, gazing down at him with fondness, Tony inhibited the sweet Omega form, happy to be close to an Alpha, breathing in his scent, the cold bite of snow that reminded Tony of cozy nights with his mother. They weren’t together, even if Tony had allowed Loki to share his heat a few months ago, one of the rare Alphas Tony had trusted to see him vulnerable in such a way.

‘Your scent…it’s different than usual,’ Loki said, his tone cautious.

This was one of the things Tony adored about Loki, his unwillingness to push him for more, understanding that he was terrified at the prospect of being bonded to an Alpha. He hadn’t morphed into an overbearing monster or become territorial after Tony’s heat, he still checked in and made sure he was comfortable.

Loki was the one Alpha he could see himself becoming bonded to, which made whatever they were doing bittersweet as Loki had also expressed concerns about not wanting to be ‘beholden to an Omega’s whims’ as he’d put it. It was beyond ironic, the one Alpha Tony trusted, the one he would consider for a mate held the same ideals about mating as he did.

Tony wasn’t going to dwell on it, he had a good, no strings attached thing here and he wasn’t going to ruin it.

‘Hmm? I haven’t been feeling well. Pepper says it’s stress, as if I haven’t been stressed every day of my life,’ Tony scoffed, lifting his head for more attention.

‘Do you…would you,’ Loki amended, ‘like my assistance with anything? I know I’m not always understanding of what it is you do but-’

‘Thanks, Lokes, but I’m alright honestly. It’s just board members giving me a rough time that’s all, things will ease off soon,’ Tony told him, opening his eyes and looking up into concerned ones. Loki couldn’t help his Alpha instincts, wanting to care and protect those he cared about, heightened by the fact they had shared a heat and a rut together.

Tony lifted his hand, cradling the side of Loki’s face, both in reassurance and so Loki could bend his head down and breathe in his scent from the gland in his wrist, grounding him. Lips dropped a delicate kiss over the gland, and as green eyes opened, Tony felt a lurch in the pit in his stomach and an irrational rage towards his past self.

Why did I put those boundaries in?

***

Tony ground his forehead into the cool desk, chafing the skin, his blinding headache doing nothing to drown out the words of the doctor ringing in his ears.

What was he going to do?

‘Boss, I think you need to take a break, this can’t be good for you, or the-’

‘Don’t, just don’t,’ Tony snapped, feeling his shoulders hunch, his teeth baring in a snarl. His arms came up to cover his head, protecting him from everything and anything. He needed Pepper, or Rhodey, he needed someone to tell him this was going to be okay, to go through his options.

‘Boss, Loki is requesting a visit,’ FRIDAY told him, making his stress levels skyrocket, his heartbeat increasing to match.

‘Tell him I’m busy.’ Tony jerked his head up, looking around the room. Loki wouldn’t teleport in here, that had been one of Tony’s very first rules, no invading his workshop unless invited. Pepper and Rhodey ignored it, but Loki abided by the rule, as did most of the Avengers.

‘I did. However, he has expressed concern regarding the changes in your behavior, the length of time between your last visit, and I really think-’

‘Alright!’ Tony held a hand up to stop her in her tirade, scrubbing his hands through his hair, thinking quickly. He couldn’t do this, he wanted space to think, to plan. It had been days since he’d gotten the news of his condition, and he’d come straight here, needing to work.

‘Let him in,’ Tony said, ‘and I’m sorry, for my shitty attitude, I’m just-’

‘Understandable Boss. No matter what your decision is, I will support you in any way I am able.’

‘I know, honey, thank you,’ Tony breathed out, trying not to cry, knowing Loki would be able to smell it.

‘Are you well, Anthony? It has been longer than normal since the last time I have seen you and I know the idiots you call teammates share my concern,’ Loki asked, stepping forward with narrowed eyes, trying to scent the air without being obvious about it.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Loki, just been distracted with something,’ Tony told him, gesturing with his hand at the schematics in the holographic display behind him.

‘You’re distressed,’ Loki informed him.

‘Damn Alpha nose,’ Tony hissed, turning in his chair to look back at his holograms.

‘It has nothing to do with your scent,’ Loki told him, turning his chair back the other way and bending down so they were eye level. ‘What is wrong, darling?’ he asked, reaching up to stroke his thumb over Tony’s eyebrow, trailing down to circle around his eye. ‘You are close to weeping.’

‘I can’t fix the suit,’ Tony answered. It wasn’t a lie, not really.

Loki’s gaze flickered up, taking in Tony’s designs. ‘Is there a weakness in the stomach plating? You’re focusing much of your calculations on that area,’ he asked.

‘It’s the most vulnerable area,’ Tony answered, subconsciously resting his hands over his stomach and then quickly moving them down to his thighs, gripping his jeans.

‘Anthony, your armor is impenetrable, I would know,’ Loki tried to change the tone of their conversation, making a lighthearted jab about their fight months ago.

Tony looked up at the schematics, knowing that no matter the tinkering, the redesigning of the suit, nothing he did would protect the life growing inside him. It was too dangerous, the number of times he got flung across the battlefield, the energy beams, the alien technology, the stress on his body.

He couldn’t be Iron Man anymore. Not like this.

‘Anthony, you need to breathe, listen to me,’ Loki’s voice faded in and out. Nails suddenly tightened on his knees giving him a focus point, his lungs suddenly remembering how to inhale air. ‘That’s it, one breath in, hold it, now release,’ Loki instructed, his scent wrapping around him, forming a protective bubble amidst all the panic, holding him steady.

If I can’t be Iron Man, if I can’t be an Avenger, then what am I? What use am I?

‘Anthony…Tony, darling, you need to breathe. You are safe, I will protect you from everything,’ Loki swore, his gaze turning brittle as he watched him, his lips drawing back from his teeth as he readied himself for battle.

‘I can’t do this,’ Tony blurted, feeling his shoulders beginning to shake.

‘Anthony, you are the strongest Ome…the strongest person I know. There is nothing you cannot do. Know that I will stand beside you, fighting your demons alongside you, you are not alone.’

Beside you. Not for you. Even now with his instincts going haywire, Loki’s scent curdling in the air, becoming so sour with his rage, he was still respecting Tony’s wishes.

Tony flung his arms around Loki’s neck, clutching him close, burrowing his head into his unbroken bonding gland, even as his nose wrinkled against the foul odor, the aroma thick on his tongue, choking him. Loki held him close, rubbing his jaw the best he could over his head, scenting him in a rare act of claiming, warning others away that Tony usually would’ve balked at.

Instead, he tried to get closer, sending Loki to his ass on the floor as he scrambled onto his lap, his hands fisting into Loki’s tunic top, wanting the warmth and reassurance of the Alpha. Loki allowed him to take whatever comfort he wanted, drawing his legs up so his knees bracketed Tony’s body, his arms in a loose hug around his back.

He felt himself blinking back tears, the agony in his heart ingrained in the very tissues of his muscle, aching with every beat. Had Loki ever wanted more from him? He’d never asked, taking Loki’s word for it months ago that he too didn’t want to be tied down. They’d never spoken about anything changing, and Tony wasn’t certain Loki even wanted him in a long term sense, if he would eventually go home and find a royal Omega.

The thoughts made him shake in Loki’s hold, and even the deep crooning rumbling in the Alpha’s chest couldn’t calm him, the frantic thoughts of his mind more powerful than biological instincts.

‘Listen to me, I do not say this as an Alpha to an Omega. I know the boundaries you have set, will abide by them always, but I hope as one friend to another you will speak to me about what is ailing you,’ Loki encouraged.

‘I can’t,’ Tony whimpered.

He needed to sort this out alone.

***

He’d always scoffed at all of the insipid dramas Pepper had made him watch, the misunderstandings unfolding between two characters, arguments and heartbreak that could have easily been resolved with a mature conversation, sometimes even a word.

I’m pregnant.

They weren’t even difficult words to say, but Tony was suffocating under the weight of them, what they meant to him, to Loki, their future, his future.

Tony stood at the edge of the room, on the fringes of things where he was most comfortable. The charity event was in full swing around him, people in their finest clothes dancing, swirls of colorful silk and chiffon, the dark suits of the men a gorgeous contrast. The atmosphere was bubbly, light and frothy like the champagne they drunk, and Tony was the dark cloud, sucking up the positive emotions and radiating a toxic miasma in return.

Pepper suspected something was wrong too. Betas didn’t have the sense of smell Alphas had, but she knew him better than anyone, knew he was hiding something, and he knew he didn’t have long before she backed him into a corner.

He didn’t want to deal with the issue at hand, had started ignoring it, convincing himself that it would go away if he didn’t think about it. Even as he started being sick, the constant exhaustion now plaguing him, he turned a blind eye to it all, cutting himself off from everyone. The Avengers hadn’t noticed, used to Tony becoming obsessed with projects and cutting them off for weeks at a time.

Loki had though, Tony could feel his gaze boring into his back at the shared common room in the tower, the questions burning on his tongue when Tony refused to suit up as Iron Man. Even as Steve and Tony argued about his cowardice, Fury’s threats to take him from the team, he hadn’t said or done anything, leaving Tony to fight his own battles unless he was called for.

No matter how desperately Tony had wanted the Alpha…his Alpha beside him, he couldn’t say anything. Looking down at the untouched champagne glass in his hand, he gave a self-deprecating laugh. He couldn’t come to terms with the idea of becoming a parent, but understanding he’d been thinking of Loki of his Alpha for some time had been a simple realization.

Looking up through all the crowds of people here for the charity event he was supposed to be hosting, Tony found Loki easily. The Alpha was staring at him, hurt lurking in his gaze before he was quickly able to mask it, offering Tony a well-rehearsed smile, one he himself wore at events like this. Loki’s gaze went down to the still full glass in Tony’s grip, lifting his own and tapping the side of it, asking if he wanted something else.

Shaking his head, he turned away from Loki, forcing himself into conversation with one of the sponsors, nodding in greeting as Thor walked past with Bruce, both talking happily with a crowd of fans following.

He felt like an imposter, knowing he was meant to be part of a team. This…condition would change all that, he wouldn’t be taken seriously, forced into a desk position, watching on the sidelines. That wasn’t him, he wanted to protect the Earth.

I am Iron Man.

Smashing glass caught his attention, an ominous hush settling over everyone at the party, guests drawing away from Loki, revealing him to be the culprit of the damage. His fingers were still poised from where he’d been holding a glass, his eyes huge as he stared down at a woman.

A very pregnant, Omega woman.

Shit.

Tony thrust his glass into someone’s hand, trying to escape while there were people forming a barrier between them, fear clawing its way over his body, seizing him in its clutches as he tried to escape. Others turned to help him as they caught scent of his terror, some thinking a villain had shown up as he started to barge pass, trying to make a run for it.

He smacked into Loki’s chest, the lingering magic shimmering in the air revealing he’d teleported himself straight in his path.

‘I think not, Stark,’ Loki hissed, teleporting them both.

***

Despite the rage oozing from Loki’s body, he still made sure Tony had regained his footing after teleporting before he thrust him away, trying to put space between them both, magic crackling in his palms and snaking down his arms.

Tony staggered over to his bed, taking a moment to appreciate Loki the fact had teleported them somewhere he viewed safe. His bedroom was a sanctuary that few had access to, the one place he could nest without judgement, where he had his heats without fear for his safety, knowing that only FRIDAY could override the security locks on his door.

He wrapped his blanket around his knees, subconsciously guarding the life growing inside him as he hugged a pillow to his stomach. Hidden within it was a prototype gauntlet, and he knew Loki knew that, saw the way his gaze went to it even as Tony slid his hand into it, ready to fight.

‘Did you not think I would find out?’ Loki growled, holding his ground, trying not to threaten a pregnant Omega, but ensnared by the potent mix of rage and hurt. ‘Did you think you could conceal it from me forever, ashamed of me and my heritage? Or did you think I planned this for you somehow, trapping you as mine, the one thing you did not wish for!’

‘That isn’t it, Loki,’ Tony protested.

‘Then what, Stark? Tell me before my patience wears thin!’ Loki demanded.

The second use of his surname stung. He’d grown used to the way Loki said Anthony with reverence, the loving way he used darling sparingly, muttering it against his skin when he’d been exhausted from his heat, or when it was used when he sought affection from the Alpha.

‘I didn’t know how,’ Tony pleaded.

‘How to say you were carrying my child… or how to say you wish you weren’t?’

‘That isn’t it Loki! I’m scared damn it!’ Tony shouted, flinging the pillow to the floor, his gauntlet powering up as he pointed it at Loki. He was reacting to the Alpha’s rage, refusing to ever be powerless to an Alpha ever again. Never would he succumb to an Alphas manipulation that he was worthless because of his secondary gender like his father had taught him. Never would he be vulnerable to an Alphas pride, watching as someone he considered family tore his literal heart from his chest, leaving him for dead.

‘This isn’t about you! It was never about you!’ Tony shouted, standing up on the bed, refusing to have the lower ground. ‘I’m going to lose everything! Iron Man, the Avengers! I don’t know how to raise a child! I don’t want my life to change!’ Tony growled, every bit as terrifying as an Alpha.

That was partly the truth. Tony had a soft spot for children, always had done, but that hadn’t meant he wanted one of his own. These writhing, conflicted emotions he had were proof of it. This wasn’t what pregnancy was meant to be like, it was meant to be gender reveal parties and crying over baby booties, ecstatic would be parents falling into each other’s arms as they sobbed.

Not a twisted, broken Omega who didn’t know how to be a parent.

‘Loki…if I can’t even be happy I’m pregnant how am I going to be a parent? I’ll destroy them, just like my father destroyed me,’ Tony croaked, his hand falling to his side, his bare hand going to his stomach, finally acknowledging the life inside him.

‘Anthony, you’re in shock, I think you’re allowed to feel whatever you want to. Children are a wonderful-’

‘You don’t even want me! Why would you want this?’ Tony spat, lifting his gauntlet up again, aiming it at Loki’s chest.

‘Anthony, of course I want you. I have wanted nothing else but you since I began living here on Midgard. You honestly think I care for the Avengers, for dancing the steps SHIELD set out for me? I came to repair the damage with my brother, but I stayed because you were here. A gorgeous, spitfire Omega who stands strong against any Alpha, who ignores his instincts and decides what he wants out of life.’

Loki took a daring step forward, the anger gone from his posture, his hands held out in front of his chest, his posture meek, unthreatening.

‘An Omega I would have bonded long ago had I not seen how deep the scars life had left upon his soul, how terrified he was of commitment. Anthony Stark, I would have you stand beside me for the rest of your days, longer if you would accept me.’

‘Don’t,’ Tony choked out, his voice thick with tears, his legs struggling to hold him up.

Loki continued walking, lifting his head back, baring his neck in a vulnerable gesture, showing Tony he was in control.

‘I moved slowly because I did not want to scare you. No matter how much I yearned for you, how much I coveted you as a mate, I restrained my intentions because I wanted you, Anthony. I care not about your gender, either of them, I want you, because of you.’

‘What if I hurt them? What if they end up hating me? What if I can’t do it?’ Every ugly thought he had, every insecurity came flying out and he hated himself for it. Who was he thinking about? Himself? Or the child inside him?

‘Anthony, you are not alone in this. Even if you do not wish for me to be your bonded Alpha that will not stop me supporting you, or our child.’

Tony whined, a high pitched noise of distress and Loki was before him in an instant, embracing and scenting him to calm him.

‘This,’ Loki reached out, his hand huge on Tony’s abdomen. ‘This means more to me than I can express in words, that I found an Omega I could love, that he would bless me with such a gift. Do not think I do not want you, nor or child.’

‘I do want you,’ Tony told him. ‘I haven’t been able to tell you, I thought you-’

‘Hush, Anthony. You know the truth now. Now all that needs to be said is where we go from here.’

‘Iron Man, the team-’

‘Will all be waiting for you after the child is born,’ Loki promised. ‘I will guard Midgard for you in your stead, I swear it.’

‘What about-’

‘The fact that you already worry about such a thing reassures me that you will be a wonderful parent. You have taken great pains to reassure me over the past months that I am more than the sum of my parts, and now I speak the same wise words to you. You are not your father, Anthony, and I am not mine,’ he whispered, bending down to swipe away the furious tears building.

Tony surged forwards, kissing Loki, their tears mingling on their lips, sealing them together. Loki attempted to laugh as he pulled away, kissing Tony’s cheekbone.

‘I love you, Anthony. May I please have the honor of courting you?’

‘I love you too, Loki and only if that involves lots of presents,’ Tony tried to joke, his tears still falling.

‘Of course, only the best for my demanding Omega. We shall speak of our…unexpected gift at another time, but for now I believe it is best we rest. You’ve had me worried for weeks and unable to sleep,’ Loki told him, encouraging him back down towards the bed, scooping the blankets around Tony in a haphazard nest, not hiding his impulses now he knew of his feelings.

‘You really think I can do this, that we can do this?’ Tony asked as he settled down against Loki’s side, all the exhaustion he’d been struggling with making itself known.

‘I do not believe it will be free of challenges, but I am not lying to you when I say there are few beings in this universe I could love, fewer still that I would entrust to bear my child,’ Loki whispered down to him, hand splaying over his stomach. ‘Sleep, darling, we will talk more in the morning.’

Shoving aside any rampant thoughts in his mind, for positive reasons this time, Tony allowed his fingers to lace through Loki’s on his stomach, turning his gaze inwards, wondering who was inside there.

#FrostIron #writing prompt #prompt fill #thanks for the ask! #Loki #Tony Stark #alpha/omega #mpreg fic

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘Run Away with Me’ Chapter 6: I Don’t Wanna Fight No More

FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

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               There weren’t any fresh bodies in the morgue today. Molly resigned herself to the fact it would be a long, tedious day. There was a good sized stack of paperwork that needed to be done, and so she worked for hours at her desk, only stopping to use the loo or eat. She was exhausted due to having trouble sleeping the night before, the fight she had with Sherlock continuously playing on a loop in her head until finally she had succumbed to the tears she fought.

               Things brightened up a bit when Greg and Sally came in, a body following not too far behind them. “Edith Shepherd, twenty-eight,” he told Molly. “Found dead in her home around ten this morning.”

               Molly took a look at the body, now lying on the slab. “Cause of death appears to be asphyxiation, but she has many other injuries that will need to be looked at first. Any idea who could have done this?”

               “I think it’s the husband,” Sally chimed in. She almost looked smug about that particular comment, and Molly wondered if it was a jab at Sherlock and their marriage. Who was she kidding? Of course it was.

               “Well, maybe the husband’s innocent,” Molly shot back. “That’s the most obvious choice, well done.”

               Greg looked uncomfortable, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Donovan, why don’t you wait outside?” She rolled her eyes, but did as he asked anyways. When she was out of sight, Greg placed a comforting hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Molls? Everything okay?”

               “I’m fine,” she muttered, shrugging him off. “Sorry, I just—I’d like to get on with the autopsy.”

               He backed off. “Of course, my apologies,” he spoke gently. “I just, uh—well, I want you to know that despite the initial shock, I do wish you and Sherlock all the happiness in the world. And I’m no consulting detective, but I can see that you’re going through a rough patch. Just hang in there, okay?”

               Molly offered a sad smile. “Thanks, Greg. That really means a lot.” When he left, she picked up the scalpel and positioned it just where she needed it to be. Whatever clues this body could provide her would help in the long run. As she cut into the woman’s flesh, Molly spoke in hushed tones, “Please, just this once, don’t be the husband.”

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               “Hu-hoo!” Mrs. Hudson alerted Sherlock of her presence. He was curled up in his chair, his eyes unfocused. She set a cup of tea down on the small table before taking a seat in John’s spot with her own cup. The woman who was like a second mom to him said nothing, just sipped on her tea.

               Sherlock sighed. “What is it Mrs. Hudson? Couldn’t help but overhear mine and Molly’s fight yesterday?”

               “I’m sure it could have been heard all down Baker Street, dear,” she told him.

               He harrumphed. “It’s not as if you were entirely supportive of my marriage.”

               Mrs. Hudson straightened up in disbelief. “I never once said I didn’t support it. I was trying to give you advice. I adore Molly—I think she’s a good match for you. I was worried you weren’t prepared to put in the effort, dear. Marriage isn’t a choice to be made lightly.”

               “I know it appears as if I just jumped into it without thinking,” he told her, “but the two years I was away, all I could think about was her—that when it was all over, I’d come home to her. Where we live doesn’t even bloody matter to me.”

               The elderly woman gave him a knowing smile. “I thought not. But all the same, you will have to learn to compromise on things you truly don’t agree on.”

               “I know,” he sighed. “I said something most unforgivable yesterday. I doubt there’s any chance of forgiveness. Mycroft had me so convinced I’d mess this up, and lo and behold, here I am.”

               “Don’t you listen to him,” Mrs. Hudson advised. “He doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does. Your brother may have taught you all that rubbish about relationships and friendships being a waste of time, but he’s wrong.” A beep from her flat downstairs sounded loudly. “Biscuits are done.” She stood to leave, but not without one last bit of advice. “Sherlock…talk to Molly.”

               He wanted to go to her last night, but thought it best to give her space. Sherlock hadn’t even slept in their bed, instead having fallen asleep on the sofa where her scent still lingered. He took a deep breath and finally got up off his chair. He grabbed the cup of tea, sipping at it slowly. Hesitantly, he made his way to the bedroom, his mouth falling slightly open at the discovery he made.

               Molly had left behind the book he gifted her in Paris. He reached out, picking it up, when several items slipped out onto the floor. Sherlock set the cup aside and knelt down to investigate. There were several photos from their time in Paris, but two in particular caught his eye. One was a photo they had someone take whilst they got married. It was of the kiss that sealed their nuptials. The other was one they took their first night in Paris, after having just made love—twice. They were in bed, Molly gazing at him adoringly, a huge smile on his own face.

               He picked up the second photo to admire it closely, his fingers brushing something taped to the back of it. Turning it over, he discovered a small bit of paper with his handwriting. So she did find it. It was the short message he wrote for her whilst he was dismantling Moriarty’s network that he had posted to the Lonely Hearts and Missed Connections wall in the bookshop.

               I need her. I miss her. My heart aches without her. I’ll be home soon, my darling.

               Sherlock checked the time. It was nearly six o’clock. In two hours, she would be off work. In two hours, he was going to see his wife.

.

.

               “Mister Holmes.” The sharp tone of voice told him she wasn’t happy with him. Anthea raised an eyebrow, questioning him without a word. “I hardly ever find it necessary to question your motives, but I’m questioning them now.”

               He blanched only for a moment, resuming to his cool exterior. “Do go on, then.”

               “Exactly why are you badgering your brother? His marriage isn’t your business, and I mean this with all due respect, sir, but you need to stop being a child.” Anthea crossed her arms. “Love is nothing to discourage him from.”

               “He is incapable—he’ll only hurt her,” Mycroft replied. “I believe he thinks he’s in love, but it is a falsity. He wants it to be true so much, he is not only lying to her, but to himself.”

               Anthea shook her head in disbelief. “Why does it bother you so much? Why are you trying to hurt him?”

               Mycroft sighed. “I’m not trying to hurt him. I realise it seems that way, but trust me, I’m doing him a favor.”

               “How so?” she questioned.

               “The sooner he realises I’m right—that he and I aren’t capable of love—the less painful it will be for the both of them when it ends,” Mycroft explained.

               Furrowing her brows, mouth slightly agape, Anthea stared at him incredulously. “I don’t think you’re incapable of love.” She stepped closer, her hands steadying herself as she leaned over his desk. “I think you’re scared of it.”

               Just as quickly as she approached him, she straightened up and left, leaving a speechless Mycroft Holmes behind.

.

.

               Molly breathed a sigh of relief after finally being able to clock out after having to stay an extra hour to finish up yet another autopsy. It took all her strength to keep it together, having to figure out what caused a twelve year old girl to pass away during surgery on her broken leg from the car crash she had been in. It turned out she had a brain bleed. A head CT could have told them that, but whoever her doctor was had chosen to focus all their time on her leg. One misstep had cost this young girl her life. It was heartbreaking.

               Upon reaching the street as she waited for a cab, Molly was immediately drenched from the pouring down rain. It was so cold, she felt the shivers deep in her bones. Needless to say she was thankful when a cab pulled up. Molly enjoyed the warmth of the vehicle, hesitant to get out once they reached her flat. She planned to make a run for the door, handing over what she owed the cabbie. Stepping out and into a decently sized puddle, Molly dug around for her keys, stepped up onto the sidewalk, and—

               “Sherlock?” Her mouth hung open as she stood there, unmoving, raindrops clinging to her lashes and falling down her cheeks like tears. Sherlock was just as drenched as she was—if not more—and his curls were plastered every which way to his face. “What are you doing?? You’ll catch your death out here!”

               Sherlock moved away from the door as Molly went to unlock it. “I was waiting for you to return.”

               She turned to him, eyebrows scrunched together. “You have a key.”

               “I was trying to respect your boundaries,” he replied. “Molly, I—“ She was pulling him inside by the hand, refusing to let go until they reached the bathroom.

               “Get out of those clothes whilst I get your spares,” she instructed him. “I’ll be right back.” Molly finally took the time to breathe during her short trek to the bedroom. Sherlock was here. He had waited God knows how long in the frigid rain for her, which had her so worried, she didn’t have time to be upset with him. She stripped down, even choosing to replace her damp underthings with dry ones, forgoing a bra, and slipped on her pajamas: pink shorts with black polka dots and an old uni tee.

               Before leaving, she grabbed Sherlock’s spare pajamas and boxer shorts, and took a moment to compose herself again. Molly stifled a giggle when she heard the sharp intake of breath her husband greeted her return with. She left him to dress in order to start up the kettle. Warm tea is just what they needed. It wouldn’t be too long now before Sherlock would appear, so she prepared herself for whatever he might say.

.

.

               Now that he was in dry clothes, he was beginning to warm up. Sherlock took one look at himself in the mirror, his curls dampened and frizzy, and took a deep breath. No, he didn’t have any grand gestures planned, but Molly usually wasn’t one for that sort of thing. Though it would be nice to treat her with something lavish, this wasn’t the time for it. Hesitantly, he made his way toward the kitchen where the kettle was whistling.

               His nerves began to get the best of him the longer he stood there, watching Molly prepare their cups. He swallowed hard, feeling as awkward and out of place the night of the Christmas party many years ago. Soft and unsure, he spoke. “Molly.” He stepped closer.

               She looked up, watching as he approached her. “Yes?”

               “I am sorry,” he told her, his voice raw with emotion. “What I said—it was inexcusable, as was my behaviour.” Sherlock let out a shaky breath, taking her hands in his. “Molly, darling, I didn’t mean what I said. Being married to you is everything to me. I don’t regret it and I never will. And I don’t care where we live. We could live here and my Baker Street flat would just be used for work and experiments. It would be rather unsafe for us to reside there—especially you. I don’t want anything to happen to you or to the children we may or may not have.”

               Molly freed a hand out from his hold and caressed his face, smiling as he leaned into her touch. “You are going to kiss me right now, Mister Holmes, and then you’re going to tell me what’s been bothering you.” His eyes lit up, pleasantly surprised she was no longer angry with him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sherlock bent over as Molly rose up on her toes, their lips meeting, brushing softly together. The moment his tongue slipped inside her mouth, she whimpered, tugging him closer. He urged her to jump up into his arms, groaning when their bodies made contact, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Molly, I love you,” he whispered as she sprinkled his face with kisses.

“I love you too, Sherlock,” she replied breathlessly, sighing when he began to trace her mouth with the tip of his tongue. “Bedroom—right now, Sher—oh!” Molly tilted her head to the side whilst his lips and tongue worked at her neck. He drew back long enough to get them safely to the bedroom, gently setting her down on the duvet. His eyes sparkled with adoration for her. Molly slipped off her t-shirt and tugged at the hem of her husband’s. The rest of their clothes were shed quickly in a fit of impatience.

Hovering over her, Sherlock dipped his head down, pressing soft kisses to the hollow of her throat, along her clavicle, and the soft swell of each breast. He lowered himself, kissing her lips whilst his fingers gently brushed through her hair. Molly encouraged him, pressing against the small of his back with her hands. He buried his face against her neck as they finally lost themselves in each other’s arms. “I forgive you,” she whispered.      

.

.       

               Tracing circles on his chest with her index finger, Molly adjusted her head so she could face her husband who looked pensive. “What are you thinking about?”

               “What a fool I’ve been,” he answered, stroking her hair. “I allowed my brother to get in the middle of our marriage. In doing so, everything I feared would happen did happen.”

               Molly nodded in understanding. “A self-fulfilling prophecy if ever I saw one.”

               “He told me it would be best to end things before we were ‘too involved,’ which I assume meant before children entered the equation,” Sherlock told her. “Essentially, he said you would be better off without me…and I was frustrated because I agreed with him. I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have.” He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling her lips press to his shoulder. “I only brought up the fact of you having not moved in completely because it somehow triggered my fear that you agreed with him too.”

               “Oh, Sherlock,” she sighed. “Don’t you think I’m the one who should decide who I’m better off with? Okay, so getting married was a spontaneous choice, but it only stemmed from how much I wanted to share my life with you—how much I love you.”

               He flashed a crooked smile. “I realise that now. Mycroft may think you deserve better than me—hell, I still think you do—but what you deserve more is the best version of me, and I haven’t been that since we returned to London, and for that, I apologise.”

               “We both have our shortcomings, and despite them, we still love each other. I have a tendency to run away when things get complicated—granted, not permanently, but I felt like I should have stayed after we fought or at least should have encouraged you to tell me what was really bothering you.” Molly slid her hand up into his curls. She laughed then. “Hell, we both ran away to escape everyone questioning our marriage.”

               “Well, yes, but a sex holiday is permitted for newlyweds,” Sherlock chuckled.

               Molly gave a playful roll of her eyes. “You are incorrigible.”

               “Mm,” he smirked, “but you love me anyways, don’t you, Mrs. Holmes?”

               “I do,” she smiled. “I really do.”  

#sherlolly #run away with me #my fanfiction

[siriuslyblack12]

chapter 3

“Pete, mate, as much as I love you, this is genuinely the worst idea that anyone has ever had, and I fucking mean that.”

 The four marauders, most popular people in the school, doted upon and loved by almost everyone they crossed paths with, all attractive in their own ways, seemed to be at the lowest point they’d ever experienced: kneeling behind a bush onlooking Mary MacDonald and her friends. To any passing person, this would seem like incredibly creepy, perhaps even stalker behaviour. They would like to inform you that, no, that was not their intention, rather to do a good thing for their friend. Peter had been innocently crushing on Mary from the very first moment he’d seen her, and he was finally wanting to do something about it.

 When Peter had suggested ambushing her as she was outside for PE, something she was very passionate about, the other three had laughed, until realising that he was deadly serious. So there they were, clichéd binoculars in hand, watching as Mary ran laps around the freshly cut grass, waiting for their moment to strike. Her hair was in tight box braids, falling down to almost her elbows, moving from side to side with the effort.

 “How does she even do that? She must have ran around that about 15 times!” Peter squeaked, obviously impressed .

 “Just because you can’t do two without collapsing.” James laughed in a manner that Remus initially thought to be a little mean, but further inspection and Peter’s own smile showed the playful banter.

 “I’d like to see you try, Prongs.” Sirius jabbed.

 “Fuck off.”

 “Gladly, but unfortunately Wormy here requires our assistance.”

 Peter shifted uncomfortably from where he was sat, seeing that Mary had now stopped to chat with Dorcas, catching her breath. He hadn’t bothered to organise exactly what he was planning to do, thinking that he could wing it, but he was now having serious doubts.

 What exactly would he say to her?

 What if she rejected him?

 Suddenly feeling sick, he looked over to his friends who were snacking on chocolate, scrolling through unopened snapchats and talking to himself respectively, hoping for some sort of copout.

 “Alright, now’s your chance, just walk up to her and work your magic.” One of them said, Peter wasn’t paying enough attention to know which.

 “What exactly is my ‘magic’? Sounds gross.” He replied, hand fidgeting.

 “Awe, c’mon, you’ll be fine! Channel your inner… me.” Sirius stated, with a wink thrown in Remus’s direction, who then flushed the same colour as the berries on the bushes. Peter groaned, waiting for the floor to swallow him whole. Unfortunately for him, that didn’t happen, instead he was lifted and pushed right into Mary’s arms.

 Damn Sirius.

 His eyes raised to meet kind ones, dazed and confused, but kind. She placed her hands on Peter’s shoulders to steady herself, lingering there for longer than necessary and twisting her fingers in the material. Realising what she was doing she briskly cleared her throat and dislodged herself from the boy. They looked at each other for a moment, neither really knowing what to say or do, searching each other’s faces for a clue in.

 Dorcas called out, “Mary, coach needs us on the track. What’s going on?”

 “I’ll be right there, you go.” She said, before turning back to Peter with a flutter of her eyelashes. “Did you need anything?”

 Internally screamed internally, wanting to say it but not knowing how, his friends still watching him encouragingly. “No, no, never mind.” He stammered, immediately regretful. Mary’s eyes narrowed, but she smiled sweetly and walked in the other direction. She’s getting away. Do something..

 “Hey, um, Mary?” His hands heavy on the back of his neck as she hummed in acknowledgement. “You-, do you-, um,” It’s not that hard. “Do you want to, maybe, go out with me sometime? Only if you want to, you can pick the place and everything, I just thought-“

 “Of course I will, Pete.” She grinned, making him do the same, both grinning stupidly at each other until she jogged away to thread her arm into Dorcas’s, laughing as friends do.

 The three other boys stalked forward, shouting praise and clasping Peter on the back. Maybe he did have that magic that Sirius was talking about.

  ~~

  Remus observed quietly through the following days as Peter and Mary grew closer, spending almost all their time together. He thought they were rather cute together, hesitant touches and lovesick glances, though obviously in their ‘getting to know each other’ phase. He couldn’t help but feel jealous, not of them themselves but of the idea of it, just having that closeness with someone (that someone preferably being Sirius) was appealing. He was a hopeless romantic, though too afraid to admit it.

 He and the others sat at their lunch table, as per usual, eavesdropping on another group’s drama. It was ridiculous, but funny, and ridiculously funny. Tiffany had allegedly cheated, and was now being scolded by her boyfriend, whilst her other friends rallied around her; Remus felt as if he was overstepping some sort of boundary, but alas, it’s not as if he could help it. They were shouting over the noise of the entire canteen.

 “This sounds rich coming from you!” Tiffany shrieked, “You cheated on me a month ago with Nina Hudson, and I didn’t say a thing.”

 “What-, no I didn’t, that was just a rumour.” The boyfriend matched her volume.

 “You did so, she told me herself.” She turned her nose up proudly.

 “I didn’t! I swear on my life.”

 “You’re such a bad liar, you-, you-, shitbag.”

 James laughed loudly, cheering her on whereas Sirius looked disinterested, possibly sharing Remus’s own discomfort. He’d have guessed that he would have shared the same enthusiasm as James, the two being inseparable and frankly obnoxious when paired together, but that wasn’t the case.

 Lily spoke from Remus’s left, “I feel bad for them both, don’t you? Having their relationship so out there like that.” Ironic considering all James could talk about was the ocean blue of her eyes.

 “I don’t see the point.” Sirius said disconnectedly, “Why does there have to be so much fuss about it? Everyone pairing of, who’s fucking who.”

 Remus had taken a sip of water that he all but choked on when James replied, “Just because you’re not getting any.”

 The two bickered as they often did, the two practically being brothers. It had always baffled Remus how one moment they loved one another, and the next they were wrestling, punching, kicking as people said boys did. It was also confusing how Sirius could have such a strong sibling with one person and be so distant from his own brother. Remus couldn’t recall a single conversation the Black brothers had had, nor did Sirius like to talk about it.

 “Come to think of it, have you ever had a girlfriend?” James questioned, the table immediately silencing as he said it.

 Sirius stammered and blushed, “Well no, I’m… just looking for the right person, nothing wrong with that.”

 James looked at him, breaking the amused tone. “Excuses, excuses. How long will it be until you find this ‘right person’ exactly? Plenty of birds would kill for a date with you.”

 “I don’t know James!” Sirius snapped, rising and packing his bag. “I’m going to class, don’t wanna be late.”

 What’s going on? He’s never early.

 Maybe I could find out.

 “We best go too, Re. The library awaits.” Lily chorused, bringing him out of his thoughts. He threw one more look to a disgruntled Sirius, halfway across the room by now, before scuffling to follow the girl.

  ~~

  “What d’you think is up with him?”

 James and Remus were sat in Physics, test papers in front of them, the latter hard at work scribbling something or other when James whispered over to him. For the rest of the week the boy in question had been strangely distant from his friends, making excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out that were about as thin as a paper bag. A nerve had been struck, showing itself as he avoided the help of those around him. Remus felt sorry for him, desperate to piece together exactly what was going on.

 “I dunno,” He said, earning a glance from their professor. “Should we do something?”

 “I’m sure he’ll come around. He loves the drama, I guarantee he’ll be back to himself in no time.” Remus doubted this, but he trusted that James was his closest friend, and ultimately the person who knew him best; making him the most qualified for judgement.

 He trailed off, “I guess… it just sucks to see him like this, you know?”

 “Of course, I get that, but there’s not really much we can do. We can’t sit here and beat ourselves up about it.” James was always the mother hen.

 “There should be no need to talk during this test, thank you very much.” Their professor reminded flatly, finishing with a pointed look to the two boys. Remus waited until she turned her head back to laptop, typing away, before speaking again.

 “Has he seriously never had a girlfriend?” He asked, more out of his own interest than actual care, but no one had to know that. He’d only had 1 himself, one of those primary school girls who held hands with you once before breaking up with you over text. He was vaguely aware of the few that James had had, including a fling with Marlene before she’d realised her sexuality. Turns out one of the only girls James hadn’t dated was the one he wanted to the most.

 “Not that I know of, I think he’s just embarrassed.”

 “Are we talking about the same person here?” Remus asked sarcastically, hoping to amuse the other. It seemed to work well as James let out a laugh that was followed by another warning from the professor, this time more stern.

 “Do you think it’s about Regulus? Something might have happened there that he hasn’t told us about.” James said thoughtfully and seriously, looking behind him to see the very boy he’d just mentioned, pale face pressed almost right into the paper, bony fingers wrapped around a pen.

 “That’d make sense,” Remus responded. “There’s no way of actually knowing until he comes around though.”

 “I wish he’d just tell us, everything would be so much easier.”

 Remus thought about that for a moment, replaying it in his mind. Telling people what’s the matter could help.

 Maybe that’s advice I could take.

  ~~

  Remus alternated between pacing up and down the concrete of Lily’s driveway, and standing perfectly still to lower the rate of his heart. It was dark with the evening sun, but this simply couldn’t wait. His thoughts were far too loud in his head to wait any longer.

 He had to tell Lily.

 He had to tell Lily he was bi.

 The two had always been close, but as of late they’d been spending more and more time together. Bitching about their friends, helping each other study, and Remus felt like he was living a lie. His chest tightened with every word he spoke, and he simply couldn’t continue without confiding in her. It was eating him up, swallowing him whole, biting at his dignity and heart. He wasn’t exactly sure why he hadn’t already told her, putting it down to a combination of imperfect timing and chickening out last minute. He was now determined that he would. He had to be.

 Lily gazed out of the window to find him in one of his pacing staged, fingers nervously picking at a cut on his hand. She scrambled up before her sister could see what she was looking at and intervene, heading straight for the door.

 What the fuck is he doing here?

 Her fingers fumbled with the keys as she tried to unlock the door before anyone noticed what was wrong, which was becoming increasingly harder as she heard the screeching voice of her sister ring through the house. When she finally got the right key, shoving it into the lock and fumbling for a few more minutes to turn it the correct way, the door opened to a shaking and shivering Remus staring back at her.

 He blinked, throat closing up as he worked up the courage. Lily gave him a look, tried to convey ‘why the hell are you on my doorstep unannounced at 8 in the evening on a school night’ as best she could.

 He opened his mouth to speak and was startled as the words fell out of his mouth like a waterfall of emotion. “Lily, I’m bi.”

 “Cool, anything else?” She was surprised but it came out effortlessly smooth.

 Remus hesitated, “Wait, you’re okay with it?”

 Lily came out onto the step to meet him, closing the door behind her, and gestured for him to follow as she set off down the street. “Re, of course I’m okay with it. Dorcas and Marlene have been out for ages, there’s nothing to be worried about.”

 “I know, I know,” he said breathlessly. “But it’s different… I thought-, I’m a boy,”

 “How is that any different? I love them, and I love you, nothing’s changed.” Lily suggested gently. “Am I the first person you’ve told?”

 Remus looked down at his feet, carrying him weightlessly through the street. The tension had evaporated. “Yeah, you were the first person that came to mind, not that I wouldn’t have told you first anyway-“ He added quickly. “I just, I wasn’t planning on telling anyone, not right now anyway, but then James said some poetic shit about telling people what’s up and how it helps and… I don’t know. This is stupid.”

 She cut his rambling short, “It’s not stupid, god, none of this is stupid. I’m proud of you!”

 Remus finally eased into his words, “I never really realised it, never had that lightbulb moment where it all comes to you at once and you know exactly who you are. It was always just something in the back of my mind and I tried to ignore it but the more I did that the more it came forward and forced me to deal with it.” She hummed in acknowledgement. “For a long time I had no idea what was going on, you know?”

 Why? He remembered thinking. Why me?

 “But then, a couple of month ago, I saw people like me for the first time. They were always there, but I’d never really seen them. So I looked into it and got my shit together and stopped fucking… denying it.” Reflecting on his past self, it all seemed rather stupid. “I’m sorry for dropping all of this on you, you’ve got your own stuff to-“

 She cut him off once again. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Remus” She never calls me by my full name. “If anything I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that.”

 He looked at her, fully this time, and felt his heart pull. In his mind he’d known she was going to be okay with it, of course she would, but seeing it play out in front of him was emotional to say the least. He was so grateful to have her. The two continued to walk as another layer of friendship and love was shared between the two.

 She raised her eyebrows knowingly as she said “It’s Sirius, isn’t it?”

 “What-, what are you talking about? I don’t,” He spluttered, wondering if he was ready to tell her about that particular problem.

 She chuckled, “You’re about as obvious as a person carrying a sign that says ‘I’m in love with Sirius Black’. I’m not stupid.”

 “I never said-,” He sighed as she put a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from walking further. “Sirius is my friend.”

 “And Peter was Mary’s friend, and we all know how that turned out for them.”

 Were they really talking about this?

 Remus let out a low, wounded sound, “Lils-“

 “Not that you asked me, but I think you’d be really cute together.” Her smile was warm and inviting, but not warm enough to get burned. No going back now.

 “Fuck, Lils, I really like him. I think… I think I might love him. A little bit. Maybe.” He slumped his head onto her shoulder and groaned comically.

 She laughed, a real laugh, and petted his curls reassuringly. “I know, mate. It’ like I said, you’re not exactly the least obvious person in the world.”

 “What the hell am I supposed to do? He’s straight for fuck’s sake!”

 A smirk painted her face. “Just hold out hope, you never know what’s going to happen.”

 “Lilith Jane Evans is do you know something that I don’t?” Remus raised his voice.

 A laugh escaped from her lips as she pulled him into a hug, “You’ll have to wait and see, Remus Elizabeth Lupin.”

 “My middle name is not Elizabeth.”

 “And my name isn’t ‘Lilith’, I’m not that posh”

 ~~

 Sirius watched Regulus from over the feast in front of him, eyes trained on the way his fingers drummed lightly on the table. Everything looked to far too expensive to even touch, plates and glasses lined with gold embellishments and 5 different forks lined up next to them. He hated family dinners with every fibre of his being, especially when everyone was set on edge by news that Sirius had just shared.

 Regulus hated when his brother did that, gave himself a rebellious reputation that he would do anything to avoid. The boy was much thinner than Sirius, skin pale with an tint that was almost green, limbs longer and face flatter, with his hair cut short and curling around his forehead.

 “Why aren’t you eating, boy? Is this not good enough for you?” The cold voice of Mr Black tried.

 “I’m not hungry.” He said simply, voice devoid of the personality he would usually have an abundance of.

 His mother shook her head from wear she was sat, “is that any way to address your father?”

 Sirius shifted angrily in his seat, “I’m not hungry, sir.”

 This earned a shallow and cold smile from his mother, a stark contrast to the smiles he was used to from his friends throughout the day. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? I’d take a clue from you brother if I were you, at least he can get it right the first time round.”

 The table fell silent as Regulus sank down into his chair, hesitant to meet the eyes of anyone. “He’s only so willing because he’s scared, sir.” Sirius said with a bite. “Must be miserable, to have your own children afraid of you.”

 Mr Black stilled, the moment so tense he would be grateful for a pin drop. His fingers curled around the arms of his chair as he stood ever so slowly, towering over Sirius with anger boiling behind his eyes. The tension only grew as the man’s voice came out as quiet as a whisper, “As far as I’m concerned you are no child of mine.”

 He continued, voice rising with every syllable “You say you’re not hungry, then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if you didn’t finish this meal, or any meal for the rest of the weekend, eh? Would you be hungry?

 Regulus gasped, still desperate to keep his voice low and unheard as he squeaked his brother’s name.

 Sirius rose to his father’s level, voice wavering. “I’d rather starve then spend another minute in this hellhole.”

 “Then leave! Get the fuck out of my house!” Mr Black boomed.

 And so he did.

#as we grow older #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #coming out #pining #angst #love #fluff

[cinnbar-bun]

Gakuen Fantasy

A/n: Hi did you know I like making AU’s at 11 PM??? Also this was inspired by me playing too many otomes. 

Edit: thank you Discord for helping me with Siegfriend, Lancey, and Seruel. 

Welcome to Phantagrande High, where people of all shapes, sizes, and powers are invited to hone in their skills and talents. As the new Language Arts teacher recruited to the school, you must adjust to the hectic lifestyle of some of the most insane personalities you have ever met. Although...maybe you could learn a thing or two from those romantic stories you’ve been teaching and spice up your love life? 

Romanceable Options~

The Wise and Calm Principal, Lucifer: The man who started this whole new mess for you. Ever the diplomat, he has a way with words and can seemingly diffuse any situation with one phrase alone. All the faculty and students respect him dearly, and in turn, he respects them as well. But he hasn’t been known to get too close to anyone romantically, perhaps you could change all that? 

The Blunt and Fearless Vice-Principal, Sandalphon: Although he may act like he hates his job, he takes it quite seriously. Many students fear him for the simple fact he has such a short fuse and will blow up on anything. The faculty isn’t all too scared, knowing he’s just a sensitive guy on the inside (and they can’t help but make jabs at him after he took the coffee machine into his office). Ever the hard-head, he’s never experienced love before, and he sure as hell will never admit that aloud (even though it’s quite obvious). But that can change once he softens up with a bit of your love. 

The Sadistic and Ruthless Biology Teacher, Lucilius: This man is one that EVERYONE fears. Even Lucifer has been trying to get him fired. Rumors spread around that he eats children who fail his class or dissects those who chew gum in his class. He has a fascination with the world around him and loves conducting research over everything he can get his hands on. He also gets a bit too excited over dissections. It also doesn’t help that he has a short temper and expects perfection from his students, who all cry at least three times in his class. He takes no shit and hands out insults like greetings, so if he tends to take a jab at you, ignore him. But what’s hiding under that cold front he puts up (answer: an even bigger asshole)

The Raunchy and Suave A&P Teacher, Belial: If shameless was ever a person, it would be Belial. He has no qualms about flirting with everything that breathes (DON’T WORRY HE’S NOT FLIRTING WITH THE CHILDREN!! HE HAS SOME BOUNDARIES OVER HERE!!) but he seems to have taken a liking to you. He’s quite popular with some of the female students (for some inexplicable reason) and he loves messing with the other three men on top. What’s the point of life without taking some risks? But are you prepared to handle this absolute demon of a man? Maybe you’ll find something worthy under the messy persona he plays up? 

The Kind and Sweet Home Ec Teacher, Vane: This man is absolutely perfect, every girl (and guy) will admit. Although he’s not too bright, he makes up for it with his big heart (that really accentuates his chest) and warm smile. He’s very fair and forgiving, and every student that walks in walks out with a better understanding of how to manage day by day activities. He’s eager to become great friends with you, but maybe you could be something more? 

The Bubbly and Clutzy Home Ec Teacher, Beatrix: One of the other Home Ec teachers who seems to have quite the reputation for being an adorable clutz. The male populous tends to take her class for an easy a but can’t help it when she drops things. The students think she’s very funny and sweet, and her food is great (when it actually is cooked). She usually complains about her ‘absolutely boring’ life in the teacher’s lounge and wishes for a day when she’s whisked off into a sweeping romance. You might not be a prince from another country, but you could give her the love she needs, right? 

The Cold and Stern Economics Teacher, Aglovale: No one knows he’s also the CEO of a very popular business, and he knows economics like the back of his hand. The general consensus in him is a very respected one, and he makes sure to always keep a good light on him. He pretends he doesn’t care for the kids, but all the teachers know better. A very good bonus, he has glasses and his voice has been known to be extremely pleasing to the ears. He may act aloof around you, but do you think you have what it takes to melt his cold heart? 

The Fiery and Hotheaded Math Teacher, Percival: The younger brother of Aglovale, who also helps him occasionally with running the business. He’s a lot more open than his brother and tends to give attitude back though. The students love him a lot and go absolutely nuts when he’s roasting a kid who likes to mouth off. He’s exceptionally by the book and has certain expectations he wishes of people. You may have caught his eye, newbie, but can you really keep its hold? 

The Loud and Militaristic PE Teacher, Ilsa: A rather scary lady on the outside who takes her job as a PE teacher a bit too seriously. A lot of people will complain about how hard she is, but the athletes worship her like she’s their goddess. Seriously, they’ve never one as many times as they had until she’s come along. Her form of tough love tends to grate people the wrong way, but deep down, she’s really trying to find someone who will look past the ‘scary’ her.

The Hardworking yet Princely Engineering Teacher, Yurius: A man of many talents regarding creating anything, who tends to be more of a behind the scenes worker. He isn’t too flashy, and makes up for his more quiet behavior with cheeky jokes and genuine concern. Hopefully you make a good impression with him, and learn just how much a goof he really is inside. 

The Thunderstruck and Loyal Physics Teacher, Albert: A man who’s best friends with Yurius, and happens to love teaching about electricity. Physics is practically coursing through his veins and he makes sure his students are all on the same page. Not that much of a surprise, but him and Yurius run the robotics club and they seem to always win. He may look rather cold, but he is a really nice guy and will gladly show you the ropes or give you the best advice on some of the students and faculty. Maybe you two could teach each other a thing or two about love? 

The Seductive and Sweet Horticulture Teacher, Rosetta: This woman is the envy of all. Her sweet words can coax anyone to her beck and call. The greenhouse where she teaches at has become her new home, and many grow to love nature and plants due to her beautiful and poetic lessons and demonstrations. She can get quite flirty and beat around the bush, but know this, every rose has its thorns. If you mess with her, prepare for a life of hell. But otherwise, she’ll be a wonderful companion in your life if you manage to look deep inside and find the true beauty within her. 

The Patient and Inspirational Music Teacher, Caro: A rather young man who has been with the academy since day one. He lives for the creative endeavors of his students and has no problems with helping them step by step. To him, the most beautiful thing ever is not gold or jewels, but the sounds people can create. He was really interested by your presence and wishes to get closer to you, although he is rather shy about doing so. The sound his heart makes when he’s around you makes him absolutely smitten, and he hopes to get closer to experience all of what love has to offer. 

The Curious and Eccentric World Religions Teacher, Shiva: His appearance might startle some, but they quickly learn that he is passionate about his subject. He is always curious about what humans believe and how they go about their faith, and it makes him smile knowing the beauty of humanity. Some might call him a weirdo for being so in love with that, but he pays no mind. He is his own person, and he craves more and more. Although he hates being selfish, for some reason, he can’t help but want to know more about you. You’ve been a peculiar person, and he thinks he’d like to learn more. 

The Lazy and Rowdy Chemistry Teacher, Elmott: A man who is a self proclaimed pyromanic, who takes far too much pleasure in setting things on fire. He is unafraid of speaking his mind and will let everyone know what he’s thinking, whether they’re a student or faculty member. He can get mouthy, but he truly cares about his students and their education, and is the first to defend them if something is wrong. He quickly earns the respect of his students and fellow teachers, even if he pretends he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Trust us, he isn’t a bad guy, no matter what he says. 

The Mysterious and Unknown Cryptid, Siegfried: A man who does... well know one really knows? Even Lucifer can’t give a straight answer. But it doesn’t matter since he tends to do the odd jobs or the ones no one really wants to do. Some kids claim he lives in a dungeon under the school. Others say the big shadow they saw trimming the bushes is secretly a lizard monster who is trying to infiltrate the government. Again, no one really knows. But the gentle giant who helped you with the copier machine certainly can’t be that bad, right? 

The Helpful and Stressed Counselor, Lancelot: The most reliable counselor the school’s ever seen. The kids absolutely adore him, and his job ranges from settling disputes between the students to helping them with their college applications. This man has connections and could probably hook you up with something wonderful. Because he can never say ‘no’, he stresses himself beyond belief. Of course, his best buddy Vane is always there to help him remember to eat and not drown himself with alcohol. Maybe you could show him that he is capable of taking a break and not dying?

The Smartass and Stoic Librarian, Seruel: A man of culture who really hates noises. He gets a bad reputation for telling the louder kids to be quiet, but really, he’s just trying to do his job. A lot of kids think he’s kinda scary because of his face, but if you ask him for help locating a book or some information on a subject (because he’s a walking encyclopedia) he’d be more than happy to help. He tends to remember frequent library-goers and likes to discuss books with them and what they thought of it. He’s read way too many trashy romance novels recommended to him by some sophomores, but he’s more than ready to start a real romance with you. If you can get past the rude jabs at first. 

A splendid array of options indeed. Are you ready to tackle your new job and try your luck at a love life? 

#gakuen fantasy #Granblue Fantasy #Granblue fantasy imagines #granblue fantasy x reader #gbf #gbf x reader #au #writing #writing series #long post

[raendown]

Chapter 53

@booklovergirl01 You made a post ages ago about a soulmate au where they can taste each other’s food and I finally got around to writing something for it. Not sure if you follow the Naruto fandom or if you ship crack pairings but you asked to be tagged if anyone ever used it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anywho folks, whipped up the latest chapter for the Soulmate Collection. Read it under the cut or on AO3!

Pairing: KisameSakura Soulmate au: The one where when one person eats something their soulmate can taste it if they lick their lips

She wasn’t very old when she realized what was happening. When five-year-old Sakura pattered over to her parents and told them that her soulmate must be eating beef they were overjoyed. Many people didn’t have a soulmate and it was considered extremely lucky for those that did. Sakura just wished hers would eat more sugary things. She liked candy and apple sauce and juice. Her soulmate liked to eat beef and fish and pork. She wasn’t so sure that they would be able to agree on anything if they didn’t even like the same foods.

As the years went by Sakura developed a love for fish that she hadn’t had as a toddler. Having it on her lips so often had her craving it, always requesting it for dinner when her opinion was asked. She came to appreciate the days when she could lick the taste of garlic shrimp off her lips in the middle of an academy lecture. Sometimes while on the playground with her friends she would suck on her bottom lip obsessively, chasing the flavor of teriyaki.

There were downsides of course. It was horrible trying to eat her lunch and having her peanut butter sandwich try to mesh with the taste of hard boiled eggs. She tried not to lick her lips whenever her soulmate ate super spicy curry; she was only a fan of the milder spices herself and she knew if she gave in to habit and licked her licks she would spend the next thirty minutes trying to chew the heat off her tongue. She always gave in. It was always horrible.

Sakura was sixteen now and damn annoyed. She was on a diet, did her soulmate not get that? He’d been eating chocolate for the past three days and now she had been stuck with the taste of a sugary glaze on her lips as if she were eating dango. She did not need these cravings, damn it! She was hoping to lose a few more pounds and that simply wouldn’t happen if her soulmate kept eating sweet things and tempting her to fall off the wagon.

Thus was her frustration when Kakashi and Naruto wanted to stop in a dango shop just inside the town they would be staying in for the night. Well, Naruto wanted to and Kakashi wanted Naruto to shut up. Her sensei wasn’t a big fan of sweet but he did enjoy his peace and quiet, which right now would only be achieved by caving to Naruto’s demands for dango. Sakura was fuming with annoyance as the she and her teammate made their way inside, Kakashi slipping off to book them a couple rooms at a nearby inn. She wondered why none of her important people were supporting her personal endeavors. Was it too much to ask that they help her stay away from sugar and bad carbs for just a few more weeks? She didn’t think so.

It was with a sigh that she warily eyed the large plate of delicious, sticky treats that was set on the table before her. Always happy to share with his friends, Naruto had insisted that she order some as well. He’d even paid for them. Sakura felt despair as her fingers played with the sticks, each bearing three different colored dumplings. She was going to give in, she knew she was, but that didn’t mean she would need to feel good about it.

The first bite was almost heavenly, she admitted to herself. She had been sticking to vegetables and low-sugar fruit for nearly a month now and her taste buds virtually sang as that delicious thick glaze slid over her tongue. Was there any sweeter treat than dango?

“Finally!” A gruff voice burst out from the table next to theirs. Sakura looked over curiously – and froze. The two men at the next table were wearing Akatsuki robes! One of them wore a large hat with strips of white silk hanging from the brim, obscuring his identity. The one that she could see was a huge man, muscles rippling under his blue-gray skin and dark blue hair standing nearly straight up under the slashed headband of a Mist Village missing nin.

A quick glance to the side showed Sakura that Naruto hadn’t even noticed their neighbors. Before she could catch his attention the one who sat with his back to her spoke up in a smooth voice.

“What is it?” he asked. He sounded vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t place why.

“I’ve been shoving sweets in my face for days trying to get my soulmate to eat something good! I think the stupid girly’s been on a diet of all things. She’s been eating nothing but rabbit food for weeks!” The large man viciously tore in to the last dango on the stick he held. “I finally gave her a craving she couldn’t ignore! She just ate some dango!”

Sakura blinked, looking down at the stick dripping glaze on to her fingers.

“You always say ‘she’. How do you know it’s a woman?” the smooth-voiced one asked.

“Easy. I like girlies.” The big one shrugged. “Why would my soulmate be a man if I’m not attracted to them?”

“You think too simply.”

“And you complicate everything.”

Sakura swallowed and rested her sweets on her plate. Naruto remained oblivious, munching away without a care in the world. It had to be a coincidence, right? It couldn’t possibly be her. There was no way she was soulmates with a member of the Akatsuki!

Determined to prove herself right – and maybe gain a little peace of mind as well – Sakura dug through the pouch on her hip, fingers sorting through each item by touch until she found the one she wanted. The ration bar she extracted was probably at least ten years old. It was a running joke among the jōnin to never ask how old your ration bars were because they were probably still eating the original ones made when the village was founded. Sakura detested them as much as the next person but they were packed with just enough nutrients to keep you healthy with no extraneous additives. They were the perfect health food even if they tasted like wet cardboard rolled in ash with a drizzle of three day old gravy.

With her eyes trained on the large man at the next table, unconsciously memorizing his unique shark-like features, she unwrapped her bar and made sure Naruto was still distracted by his meal. Then she raised it to her lips and took a bite, deliberately smothering the disgusting taste all around her mouth.

“Ugh!” She froze at the same time that the large man did. “What the hell, Girly!?”

“Gone back to sensible foods, has she?”

“I went through all the trouble of convincing her to eat something good and just when I think she’s giving in – what the hell did she just eat?” His tongue hung out for a brief moment in an exaggerated face of disgust. Then he realized this wasn’t helping; he should keep his tongue away from his lips if he didn’t want to keep tasting it.

“Well?” his companion seemed slightly amused at his predicament, though it was hard to tell through the flat tone.

“I don’t know what that was but if she takes another bite of it I am eating nothing but sugar until she gets the point!”

Sakura lowered the ration bar, swallowing with some difficulty. Only one more step to test, one more step and she would have convinced herself of the opposite of what she had been trying to convince herself. Reluctantly, cringing, she reached for her dango. She plucked one of the dumplings off its sewer, took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then popped the whole thing in her mouth.

With her eyes closed she chewed as fast as she could, licking the sweet syrup from her fingers. When she heard a startled but pleased noise she winced, cracking one eyelid open to see her target grinning. His teeth were all pointy and sharp looking. In the very back of her mind she noted that it was kind of attractive.

“There you go! Back on track! I dunno what happened there but she’s gone back to the dango again.” He nodded to himself in satisfaction. “Good choice, Girly.”

“These updates on your soulmate’s eating habits are riveting, I assure you,” his companion drawled.

Her soulmate rolled his eyes and before he even opened his mouth she knew they were about to start bickering. It was obviously from the expression on his face that he was slightly offended by that comment. Sakura, however, wasn’t able to listen in on their little spat.

“Naruto, Sakura,” a quiet voice hailed both of their attentions. They both turned their heads to see that Kakashi-sensei had slipped in to the shop without either of them noticing. He was sitting on the opposite bench from her, beside Naruto, and his gaze was trained on the same spot hers had just been. “I want you to stay quiet Naruto but do you know who that is at the next table?”

“Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura whispered. He met her eyes, his eyebrow raising at the slightly worried look on her face. “I think that big one is my soulmate.”

His eyebrow lifted even higher and his hand shot out to cover Naruto’s mouth just in time to muffle the incredulous shout from the boy’s mouth. She and her teacher held each other’s gazes for a long time, speaking without words. She watched the calculating look fade away to be replaced with what she might almost call sympathy – strange from a man who so rarely showed his emotions.

“That changes things, doesn’t it?” he said to her softly. Sakura wanted to hug him for being so understanding. She didn’t. She respected her old teammate’s boundaries. So instead she simply nodded and looked back over to see her large blue-skinned soulmate jabbing one finger against the wooden tabletop as he made some point or other.

“Gah!” Naruto gasped in a breath as he finally managed to pull Kakashi’s hand away from his face. “But doesn’t Itachi travel with that guy? I’ve seen him before! I’d swear he’s the guy who’s partnered up with Itachi!”

“Two birds, one stone,” Kakashi murmured, the corners of his eye crinkling in a smile that Sakura didn’t need to see in order to know that it wasn’t friendly at all.

The fight, when they ambushed the pair in a dark alley, was short but brutal. Itachi didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as he was capable of when he noticed that their main focus was on securing his partner’s capture instead. His Sharingan eyes took in the way Sakura was looking at the large man and, curious, allowed himself to be restrained. In the way that he always did, Naruto immediately busted out with his trusty Talk-no-Jutsu. He pleaded with Itachi for the reasons behind his actions and begged for his help to being Sasuke back home. Sakura would have been amazed that he actually seemed to be succeeding if she weren’t so distracted by the tall muscle-bound man beside him.

“You didn’t seem to like the taste of my ration bar,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster. “So if you give us any trouble you can be sure we’ll both be having them for dinner.” His eyes widened as her meaning settled over him. Then his mouth split in a sharp grin, teeth glinting in the low light.

“Hello Girly,” he said. “You’re a pretty one, though you could use a little more meat on your bones. The name’s Kisame; you?”

“Sakura,” she breathed, entirely unaware of the enraptured expression she wore, falling in love from the very first word.

Team 7 abandoned the rather inconsequential mission in favor of bringing their prisoners back to the village. No one thought it was strange that Kisame made no effort to free himself. Indeed, he seemed happy to follow where ever Sakura wished to lead him.

#soulmate collection #rae writes #kisasaku #kisame #sakura #naruto #kakashi #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

[transgenderkris]

My question went for a real-life kismesis and what could considered "healthy" within said relationship

well, the basis of a kismesissitude is one of rivalry. there needs to be a competitive element in the relationship; this could take the form of something akin to a continual game of one-upmanship. to be considered healthy, this arrangement would have to be completely mutual. to have one participant significantly more engaged in the rivalry than the other/s would, as in any relationship, lead to… unpleasantness. this could become unhealthy if, in desperation or a simply insurmountable escalation of competition, one participant did something extreme and intolerable by their partner/s. obviously, open communication regarding boundaries and limits would be just as important in a kismesissitude as in any other type of relationship or quadrant.

(this post got a little long, my apologies, so the rest of it is under the cut)

to continue in this particular line of thought, i’d like to emphasise the need for balance. one participant cannot hold excessive power over another; not simply to avoid an unhealthy development in the relationship, but to sustain the relationship itself. a healthy, full kismesissitude should encourage its participants to focus on being the strongest person they can in order to show the other/s up. there should be an equal amount of winning and losing for all parties involved– but the focus should always be on how you can win the next round, not on the fact that you lost the last. there should be a fairly positive reinforcement behind the relationship, not a negative one. the point of a kismesissitude is not to drive your partner/s into the ground completely, nor permanently; it is to drive your partner/s to be the best they possibly can. spite, after all, is a wonderful motivator. it goes without saying that causing your partner/s to fall into depression or develop low self-esteem is where you would draw the line between healthy and unhealthy.

now, something that a lot of people easily gloss over is the fact that a caliginous relationship doesn’t revolve around actual hatred– more like a sustained annoyance. a begrudging respect for how infuriating one’s partner/s are is commonplace in a kismesissitude. as such, i’m going to refer to one of the most explained (and easily framed) canon-ish pitch pairings, which was john/terezi. john/terezi was essentially given to us as a gift-wrapped example of a nice, simple kismesissitude, helped along by karkat’s running commentary and wonderful exposition– there to correct common misinterpretations of the caliginous quadrant amongst the homestuck fandom. i’m referring to this because john explains that he doesn’t hate terezi, he just finds her ‘mindgames’ and methods for retconning the timeline to be incredibly frustrating and unnecessary despite liking her as a person. she, in turn, playfully jabs at him with insulting nicknames. this is a basic example of a (rather vanilla tbh) caliginous interaction; a cause for irritation and yet some level of admiration, followed by reciprocation from the receiving party in order to keep the interaction going.

so, obviously a kismesissitude where one or all parties actually, genuinely hate the other/s falls under the category of ‘not healthy, like, at all’. which is why, again, it’s importance for a balance to be struck. a good kismesis has qualities you admire and respect, but also has qualities that make you wish they didn’t have those positive ones so that you could hate them platonically, rather than be drawn in by their infuriating complexity. as such, the feeling of reluctance when thinking about one’s attraction to their kismesis is normal. thoughts of “how could i be attracted to them? they’re so goddamn annoying”, and “wait, i can’t actually like them, they’re… they’re– ugh!” could be quite common.

something else to consider in a caliginous relationship is the potential for vacillation. in the case that one or more involved parties flip from spades to hearts, which can happen given the aforementioned admirable traits possessed by one’s kismesis, the other/s would need to adapt and potentially also flip. this is (one of the many reasons) why auspistices are crucial in troll culture; to help all parties communicate during this process. as such, someone involved in a caliginous relationship may want to have a potential auspistice on the sidelines if vacillation is a strong possibility. admittedly, this may not be such a high priority for a human kismesissitude, given our society doesn’t quite have the overwhelming proclivity for violence or murder that alternia does. still, it’s something to consider.

okay, i think that covers most of the important kismesissitude aspects with regards to healthy vs unhealthy, so hopefully i answered your question to some extent. in the case that you were asking this to apply to your own caliginous relationship, i wish you luck and hope you have a happy and infuriating kismesissitude– and in case you were simply curious about my opinion or wanted more information on the real-life application of the pitch quadrant, thank you for asking! i love discussing quadrants, so if you have any further questions, or you’d like to debate a point or two from this post, go ahead. :)

#quadrant analysis #kismesissitude #my apologies if there are any mistakes or oversights in this #it's now nearly 9 am and i haven't slept since yesterday whoops! #i THINK this all makes sense but i'll have to read over it again when i'm not desperately sleep-deprived #Anonymous #answers #homestuck

[whatscoolaccordingtodom]

June 2018

June is the beginning of summer in the Northern hemisphere. American artists traditionally begin touring around this time with many of them even kicking off their world tours with a new album to promote because it just makes marketing sense. Initially I was going to write only about the G.O.O.D Music releases and how interesting this 7-song album every week for 5 weeks concept is, but “Conspiracy Theory” Dom could not ignore the spice brought in by The Carters, or the instant classic by AKA. June produced a definite shift in the way albums are released with many of the bigger artists opting for fewer songs. Select artists are also shying from promoting runaway bubblegum singles and then putting them on their albums in the name of sales; a more cohesive amount of plays-per-song is being favoured, proving artistry beyond the ability to make radio bangers bringing Tyler the Creator and Mashayabuqe to mind.

Starting on the 25th of May with Pusha T’s – Daytona. The G.O.O.D music President who has crafted a respectable roster, most recently signing Valee and 070 Shake who both released their debut tapes under G.O.O.D Music earlier this year, titled GOOD Job You Found Me and Glitter respectively. 070 Shake features on “Santaira”, singing the chorus, which is almost haunting. Push has built a career off his dark braggadocio cocaine inspired raps, almost every song is layered with references to or stories about cocaine, he also happens to be a top-tier lyricist with a respectable stash of flows. Daytona saw him stay very much in his lane on top of crisp Kanye produced beats, definitely falling in the top half of his discography, yet really left me wondering what King Push would’ve sounded like? “What Would Meek Do” is a highlight as well as “Hard Piano”, but it’s “Infrared” that landed the Drake publicity assist. He was baited, causing him to release the “Duppy Freestyle” where he attacked Kanye and Push’s fiancé, “The Story Of Adidon” in response held no punches. It is said Drake recorded a career ending reply, which he was advised to not release, it was then hinted the song would be released on Scorpion, but we never got it; a disappointing end to entertaining beef.

Same day as Daytona, New York’s favourite son and leader of the A$AP Mob, A$AP Rocky released his released third official album titled Testing. In my mind’s eye it’s less of Rocky trying new sounds and exploring the boundaries of rap, and more of him putting in an honest effort and staying true to the sounds of Harlem. A$AP Rocky is a rapper’s rapper who dabbles in fashion and takes on the fulltime gig of being his New York based mob’s front man. His influence pool has grown expanding his signature style. He’s been forced to grow up over the past few years, on “Changes” he speaks about exes moving on, getting married and having kids and on the album addresses sexual harassment which various mob members have been accused of. Anyone who’s been paying attention must have noticed that Rocky really gets along with OF frontmen Tyler and Frank, and of late him and Frank Ocean have collaborating quite a bit with “Purity” as a fitting addition to their growing joint catalogue. “Praise Da Lord” is the albums highlight, following the trend of featuring Skepta -as if the UK has no other fire rappers- Rocky crafts a banger that’s well worth the listen.

June 1st saw Kanye West his release his 8th solo album. Starting with the haunting “I Thought of Killing You”, the song/album is in line with his experimental journey with Hip-Hop and his influence, a journey which has seen him gain and lose millions of fans in waves. The ebbs and flows of public acceptance every changing, in his most recent efforts however has without doubt been the most controversial and most irreversible with millions vowing to boycott Ye after his slavery statement on TMZ. The album is filled with what seems to be snapshots of Kanye’s life in 2018 much like TLOP did in ’16. It is the snapshot of a rebellious boy with white in his beard, three kids, a supermodel wife, and a company destined to be worth $1bn dollars (in his own words). Kanye is no longer the weird beat making kid who wanted a chance, he has grown into an attention grabbing, outspoken erratic who is learning to apologise for his mistakes. “Violent Crimes”, one of the most talked about songs on the album is just a father trying to give his daughter a relevant song in 2018 that hides none of the truths. This made Ye come off as questionable, wishing his daughter has a terrible figure so niggers won’t ogle her. Ye is the story of Spider Man, except he never listened when uncle Ben told him “With great power, comes great responsibility”, he’s had to learn that for himself the hard way. Now at 41 years old, the artist seems to be settling into his place in the world, but is it too late for the black guy who shares dragon energy with Donald Trump? TLOP’s most underrated song was “Highlights”, here too the beautiful “Butterfly” goes almost unnoticed.

One week later on the 8th of June, every G.O.O.D Music fans most impossible dream came true. Most of the original dream team and a plethora of others came together for an unforgettable classic where they also addressed mental health issues. Laying confidently on top of obscure samples and Kanye’s over the top production is a project with simple lyrics but a strong message. Kid Cudi sees his return to G.O.O.D Music, of course he has appeared on every Kanye album since the 808 album, but this is more. The Kudi Sees Ghosts album, in typical Ye fashion was a credit mess, no doubt a law suit or two will spring from the 2018 G.O.O.D Fridays after wave. Mos Def features in the title song and gives a striking verse which is very relevant in the African context; “Civilisation without society” is a dream many Africans have, but would never dare to say out loud.

On this side of the pond, Potchefstroom based creative collective, The Faculty dropped their debut tape What Do We Call This released exclusively on Soundcloud June 8th. Find them on Youtube and Soundcloud @TheFacultyWorldWide.

Future released his soundtrack for the movie Superfly. This project highlights his talent beyond making songs, it saw him craft a playlist where you can almost imagine the movie even if you hadn’t seen the trailer.

June 15 was heavy with releases starting with the North’s favourite son, uBaba kaKairo released his 4th and final album Touch My Blood an interesting take on long projects. AKA gave us 16 enjoyable songs. The Supa Mega’s biggest irk is his need to place outdated runaway singles on his albums in the name of sales, to his credit the rest of the songs on this particular album were not mere fillers, they bang. “Fela in Versace” is a definite highlight. “Jika” will eventually find it’s place in the South African Wedding Song Hall of Fame alongside legends like “Marry Me”, sidenote on how AKA is actually fixated on making songs for this strange demographic. It’d be nice to hear what Touch My Blood would’ve been without “Caiphus Song” and “The World is Yours”. In true bitch with long nails fashion, AKA dragged and mocked his enemies the whole way through his project. Relief came in the form of his many features, picking and choosing from the elite few from home and giving us his now to be expected Nigerian fire feature from Kiddominant; anyone remember Burna Boy’s big local break? I must also note that L-Tido was better than decent on “Amen”, it wasn’t earth moving or anything, just didn’t dislike it. Stogie T is a solid rapper, but he failed to show it in the “Star Signs” music video, it kind of makes the song hard to like now since the video was ruined by his awkward visuals.

The spirit of the youth going independent and doing things their own way is best embodied by The Wrecking Crew Collective. A Reece brought it and 2 of his friends for L3 (Long Lost Letters), with his Wrecking Crew mates Ecco and Wordz, they deliver a compact project, filled with jabs at exes and haters. B T P H a graphic ode to P**y,[NDW1]  is so smooth and sees the rappers trade lines almost like a freestyle session. A-Reece takes time out to throw jabs at Nasty C, and we’ll absolutely see them returned on Friday the 6th of July when he releases his album. “Better Daze” is a stand out track for it’s message, it’s really just a group of friends who are happy their Youtube page hit 1 million views, a relatable goal currently being pursued by many African youths in the hopes that Youtube will give them the income the job market so clearly won’t

Jay Rock released his 3rd album, titled Redemption saw the TDE artist who is currently on tour with his label mates release a Kendrick assisted album. As usual Kendrick handed him his single with a bow tied, and even a memorable Future feature in the form of “Kings Dead”. This album is filled with enjoyable tracks though, the title song sees SZA and Kendrick come through while the clever “OSOM” features J Cole. But “WIN” takes the cake, the track is infectious and easy to remember but doesn’t come off as a pop single. The album is well structured paying homage to the traditional album layout, but it is carried by Rocks talent and the Kendrick assists.

Nasir had one job. Be better than 4:44, that’s all. In many ways Nas achieved this goal, the production was tailored to let him shine and his lyrics were well thought out, if at times a bit conspiracy theory-ish, somebody can somebody say not for radio? Nas has refreshed himself, we are given a similar message but we do not get bogged down in the typical patterns of his previous works. The disappointing release of this album reflects how men with abuse allegations are treated in current times, showing quite fairly that women are no longer sitting on the side lines and that abuse in the music industry can no longer be tolerated. The album didn’t do so well in the first week but the core fan base came through allowing many of the artists in this category enjoy Gold and Platinum status for their latest releases, it seems we can only be outraged and boycott when the hashtag agrees not when it actually matters.

My favourite by far in the pettiness series is from House Carter, directly from King Beyonce when she said “HOVA, BEYZUS. WATCH THE THRONE”, I shouldn’t have to explain how petty this line is. These jabs saw The Carters rain on Kanye’s G.O.O.D Fridays roll-out and Nas’ album by releasing their project on Saturday the 16th of June, the day after Nasir was released. Some sort of pleasure was found in the fact that their album with all its drama was still not able to secure the Number 1 spot that week. Everything is Love is the final chapter of a ‘true’ story we all lived out with The Carters as they threw stones in their glass house. If Lemonade opened the can of worms, 4:44 let us know that Jay was owning his situation; Everything is Love is their victory lap around Tidal subscribers and ticket purchaser’s cheque books. I mean, releasing a joint album while already on tour, they could potentially redo venues with a different show. Talk about the dream team. “I want you to come inside right now, so you know just how I feel”, B always uses lyrics that her more innocent listeners can sing along to in oblivious abandon, but on this album,  she also finds time to make Jay-z a bitch not just at that cringe worthy moment on “Love Happy”, the rest of the song more than makes up for it, but still. In terms of delivery, her rap game is fire. On “Nice”, the Jay-Z verse is him at his usual braggadocio self, it’s the pleasant feature from Pharrell that tells on how his voice has improved over the years, it’s only that high note that separated them; where Beyoncé took it in her stride. Skateboard P had to bring in the autotune; she managed to out rap Jay and to no one’s surprise, out sing Pharrell, on one song. Jigga Boo is upset that the faceless award givers now consider him too old for consideration, perhaps it’s time for him to join their ranks. I mean, how many Grammy’s is enough Grammy’s? He’s also tired of being famous which also gets him sued, Hov is so tired infact, that he shows up now to court without a suit, that’s when he does show up to court.

Keep That Same Energy, a line seemingly borrowed from Ye’s Wouldn’t Leave, really showed what the team at G.O.O.D Music had to go through to finish the series off strong, after Kanye took it upon himself to bite off more than they could collectively chew. Mike Dean, Ye’s producer of choice went on a drip after KTSE was released, exhaustion we’ll assume. Teyana’s album was the one I feared for most, having never heard an album from her before, but loving all of her contributions since joining G.O.O.D, notably the songs she appeared on for Cruel Winter; I was ready for Kanye to be tired and bring out a less than great album, and at first listen I thought I was right. The 7-song structure was bumped up to 9, and the songs themselves are generally quite low energy. BUT boy was I wrong, KTSE is RnB, it manages to house tracks with interesting messages like “No Manners” and “Hold On” while sexually inspired ballades like “3 Ways” ft Ty Dollar $ign make one reminisce on old RnB. It’s a fitting coming out party for the mother of one and wife of Iman, the 2 characters who feature quite prominently in her work, it’s almost as if she made the songs for them. I don’t know her personally, but I feel like Teyana has a lot of faith in Kanye, waiting all these years to bring out her album, I’d say it was worth it. As she herself says on “Young Love”, she isn’t just a musician, and I mean come on; who hasn’t enjoyed watching her dance? The album stays true to Kanye’s theme of Love, “Self-Love” focuses more on telling people that you have to love yourself first.  

Like G.O.O.D Fridays all grown up, but this is experimental Kanye, one who changes his entire album the week before release because he upset every black person, he tweaks tracks just before release and changes track names after release. Kanye West, formerly but still Yeezy, now Ye did his best to surround his releases with the theme of love but in true Kanye fashion he made a complete mess of things. From his affiliation with Donald Trump to the headline grabbing slavery comments, his version of the press-run before the album did not go well, nor did the actual album roll-outs. The game has been hinting at this faster roll out strategy for years now. Music culture has been speeding up and becoming more exciting, but what does this mean for the longevity of the art? Also, can an album reach classic status anymore in a time when they have only one month to live, where the first week basically decides the albums fate.

On the 29th of June, Drizzy Drake released his 5th studio album titled Scorpion. It has his face featured prominently on the cover, so an emotional album is to be expected. His brave attempt to give us two albums paid off, Disc 1 is for his rap fans and it is laden with good songs, “8 Out Of 10” is first to mind. Disc 2 is for his singing fans, and they received what they had been waiting for in spades. Drake shares his love for putting break away singles on his albums with AKA and here no fewer than 3 of those songs appear, the truth is anyone listening to the album must skip “God’s Plan” and “Nice For What” because at this stage there is no need to play these songs in your own company. “Talk Up” see’s his pettiness feature Jay z so the 2 of them can send subliminal shots at the G.O.O.D Music crew, Jay z manages to give one of his most disappointing verses this year on a song he really didn’t need to rap on. “Don’t Matter To Me” signals where Drake is in his career, the top of the rap game, he’s figured out longevity and now he’s fulfilled his obligations according to his Cash Money contract; the Michael Jackson feature is a flex. Scorpion is an addition to Drakes catalogue and stays true to the playlist format of his previous album, it plays like a rap playlist from him and then an RnB one, there is no true cohesion or album theme other than his trademark complaining and emotional whining. BUT what does it matter what I think? His Editors Note on Apple Music mocked, silenced and uppercut the critics and haters before they could say anything. The man is an obvious legend who will go down as one of Hip Hops greatest, even if he never releases another album or chooses to never rap again, his place in the history books is cemented.

S/O Ty Dollar $ign and Jeremih for taking the baton from The Dream and running with it. Such artists are often under valued for their independent projects, but the value they have collectively added to a plethora of other artists albums this year cannot be understated. These 2 artists have contributed in a massive way and it wil culminate in a joint album later this year.

S/O  the artists Nasty C – Stings and Bling, Zakwe – Cebisa and Future – Beast Mode 2 all released on Friday the 6th of July.

Also, who knew Jay z could cook?

Love Dom

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