#(pg 13 tw kinda )

[pahk-in-action]

"Can you do the stabbing? You're the one that passed biology!" "Yeah, sure, hand it over..."

basically part of a black comedy au in which noah and lindsay end up killing off most of the popular crowd by semi-accident.

@total-drama-horror-week, day 7: free day!

[frgdsecrts]

Soon there would be a heavy cloud looming over them, all of them, for many reasons, but it didn't have to be like that tonight. Unbeknownst to Ricardo his own actions in the near future would cause a ripple in this happiness he was finally sharing with Kazimir, both in front of and behind closed doors. He smiles when the other mentions not planning on dying, breathing a little easier just then. As Ricardo's back gently hits his bed sheets, Kazimir now hovering over him, listening to their hushed words, all those worries of the what the future could hold fades away. In fact, everything fades away.

"Even if it is not in the same like Knox is for Mathias, in my heart, I feel as if we are bound together. You are my thread of life, Kazimir." Ricardo felt goosebumps being left in the trail of Kazimir's touch, sending shivers coursing in every direction. His eyes flutter shut for second, before opening again to look at the other, and his body ached for Kazimir now more than ever. "We can have these things tonight and all the nights that allow them." A hand reaches out to gently rest on Kazimir's chest, fingertips trailing along the outlines of his muscles, smiling at the returned compliment. "I kept looking at you too. I always find myself looking at you, but tonight especially." Part of it was because he honestly had a hard time keeping his eyes off the other sometimes when they were in the same room together. Unless it was a serious thing, like a meeting, then of course he focused on that. Ric’s heart skips a beat at the question, suddenly the butterflies in his stomach start to go into overdrive. He's feeling like a schoolboy right now who is about to kiss his crush for the very first time, even if they had kissed many of times before. Maybe he should have said no, left things as they were, but he couldn't. It had been so long since he had felt Kazimir's lips on his own and tasted them. It had been so long since anyone had touched him in the way Kazimir had in New York City with such raw intimacy, and it had been a long time since he had allowed that intimacy in. In fact, up until this very moment, he had thought he would never feel it again. The hand that was resting on Kazimir's chest slowly reaches up to cup the side of Kaz’s face, "As long as you promise not to stop." He can't help himself from teasing just a bit right now, "I'm single, I promise."

Kazimir didn't realize that they could only speak the truth. Or at least the truth as they believed it. The weretiger would lay down his life for Ric, not just because they believed in resurrection and Mathias but also because they loved Ric. They had tried to make things easier on Ric. Tried to be someone that the underboss never had to worry about or question. Kazya did the same for Mathias. Their own life was the Deathrunners. Good, bad, ugly. It didn't matter.

They weren't usually so deep in their communications with others. They weren't much for pouring out their soul to anyone. Even to the people that deserved to hear it the most. But once they had started they couldn't stop. They heard themselves say it all. Everything. Raw and unfiltered. Kazya stopped his hands moving over Ric's legs as the Necromancer placed his own on top of theirs. Watching his thumb brush across Kaz's tattooed hands. They shook their head, not in disagreement when Ric talked about their brother but because Kaz felt like he'd been skinned. Every word touching him on the raw. "I have Knox back... It is a miracle I will always be grateful for..." Kaz looked up at Ric concern and worry clear on their face as Ric talked about there being no living without Kaz for Ric. They shook their head this time in silent protest. They felt something break in their chest. "It is part of being your bodyguard. To keep you alive even at the expense of my own. And I give to you because it is my honour." And his love. Kaz shook their head again, "I do not plan to die. And we will continue to protect them all for as long as we can." But Kaz caught their breath as Ric said that he loved Kaz. They kneeled at Ric's feet, looking up at him with awe and love. Because Kazya was at once elated and terrified for what that meant. Ric loved them. They looked down to try and hide the fear but Ric's hand brought their eyes back together. They reached up and put a hand on Ric's holding the necromancer's hand against their own face. Kaz was done talking about dire futures that might never happen. Ric loved them. Ric breathed for them. They move easily as Ric pulls them up and on top of the other man. Kaz crawling onto the bed over Ric. They nodded, looking down at the other man. Their voice was a whisper, "I am yours. Where you go I go. I would be your familiar like Knox is for Mathias. I would be bound to you for eternity. But these things have not happened. Might not happen. We are alive. We are together..."

Kaz closed their eyes as Ric touched their foreheads together. "I want. Yes I want these thing too. Can we have these things tonight?" One hand travelled over Ric's chest, over his shoulder, touching everything they could reach.

Kaz grinned widely at the compliment, "Thank you. I try not to stare at you all night. You were so beautiful..." They paused, "Ric, can I kiss you now?"

[eydi-andrius]

F*ck, Marry, or Kill (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

summary: Somehow, Gojo and you always work together in missions

cw/tw: some foul language but tolerable and PG-13, Gojo being Gojo, fluff (?)

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a/n: This will be a series of drabbles I wrote for Gojo but I cannot pieced together as a oneshot or story. I hope you all will like it. Appreciate the likes, comments and reblogs! ✨

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💕

"Fuck, Marry, Kill! Me, Nanami or Ijichi!" Gojo asked. Looking unfocused and obviously, caffeine drunk.

It has been three days since they gave you this mission and on those days, you two barely slept and had to stay up for consecutive days to catch this curse.

You don't know if this work was the torture or the constant noises Gojo makes every time he tries his best to joke around, and throw random questions to help you stay awake.

His efforts should make you feel thankful but at this point, you were so tired of how noisy he was that you have this tiny voice inside your head that tells you to wrap his mouth and gag him using his blindfold.

Truthfully, you have no trouble staying awake. But whenever you are with Gojo, you get so tired that sometimes, you just feel your eyes fluttering-closed because you run out of energy to deal with him.

That's when he will slap you awake and ask the most random question.

The curse this time kills so fast that if you ever just try closing your eyes and taking the shortest nap, you're dead. It had killed so many lives and was getting on everyone's nerves, that's why they assigned this mission to Gojo.

You're just not sure why you were dragged on this absolute hell of a mission though. You've heard this blue-eyed man child threw a tantrum at the principal. But that was just a rumor amongst the first years.

Anyway, this was a tricky curse. It was so smart and hard to catch if you're awake, that even the self-proclaimed strongest sorcerer was having a hard time catching it.

"Marry Nanami, Fuck Ijichi and Kill Gojo." You replied, uninterested. At this point, you also developed a skill wherein you just reply to whatever question he asked of you and you answer right away.

"Huh!? No way you'll fuck Ijichi! He looks like he will die from excitement the moment you start foreplay! Man, you're so mean to him!" Gojo whined while stomping his feet when he heard your answer.

If you just have the energy, you probably have punched him in the face before he even realizes it.

"I mean, I agree with marrying Nanami but you can fuck me!" All the colors drained from your face when he said that with no shame at all. He looks smug, hurt and kinda offended as he frowned at you.

You two were sitting at a bench, in a public park when he said that loudly. Those nearby looked at you differently. Some with disgust, others mouth agape, while the teenagers giggled and cheered Gojo's efforts. And you don't blame them at all. He sounded, as if, he wanted so bad to be inside your skirt.

You were about to retort back when you were stopped.

It's probably the fatigue and shame mixed together, but you started feeling dizzy and lightheaded. Visions blurry and swimming, you slowly lose all your strength. You've heard Gojo calling your name but it sounded as if you were submerged underwater.

Not having any control of your work-beaten and sleepless body, you succumb to the feeling of sleep. However, before you fully lose consciousness, you've heard someone apologize.

It sounded like Gojo but you were not sure.

"Sorry, I was so tired I started talking about the weirdest things. While I enjoyed our time together, I think it's time to kill this curse. I will make sure he will feel my anger after the embarrassment he put me through."

[BONUS]

Megumi was inside the convenience store when he watched the fiasco his teacher did outside.

He muttered repeatedly to himself, to remind him that he doesn't know that person at all.

He was so embarrassed when he heard what he was talking about and kinda felt bad to his cursed spirit for asking it to hear and relay the conversation they're having.

Gojo asked him to come today. He said that you were too tired and he would need another hand killing this curse.

What he did not expect was that, even his sensei was too tired to even think straight.

Or that's what he thought.

Within a blink of an eye, Gojo killed the cursed in front of him. He brought Megumi inside his domain and taught him how to kill it, precisely and fast.

When he opened his eyes, he was back at the convenience store, with his shoulder heavy with you leaning at him. You looked uncomfortable and he kinda felt bad.

"Help her up. I already called Ijichi, he will be here soon. I need to report to the higher ups today. Those damn old geezers." With contempt, Gojo almost spit in anger by just mentioning his superiors.

Realizing that the mission was done with just that, he nodded and his sensei vanished.

With a deep sigh, Megumi looked at you with pity.

He wasn't sure if you were unfortunate or lucky to catch his teacher's attention.

His teacher, his guardian, stayed up for days, forcing you to join him, when he could have just killed the curse for a second.

Even though he wasn't religious, he prayed for your safety.

[ezrazwrldz]

hi!! one good request deserves another!! hehe

could you maybe do bunnydoll with some angst? like maybe ragatha getting hurt on an adventure and jax finds her (still on the adventure) and helps her out?

and no rush!!!

(i’d love to!! <3)

tw: injury!! not realistic, just a warning just in case <3

your stupid face 💜💙

jax’s pov

i chase after gangle, her shrieks and screams making me breathless with laughter. god, she’s so easy to mess with. it’s honestly pathetic. this adventure is actually a pretty violent one, first one we’ve had in a while. it’s kinda cartoony and pg-13, but, i can’t exactly complain, right? it’s the best i’m gonna get here. i stop running, leaning against a wall to take a breather. god, that got boring fast.

ragatha beckons me towards her, clearly having noticed something.

“..jax.. do you see that..?” she asks, her eye glued to a particularly dark room, which appeared to have a tiny, white light coming from it. one that somehow didn’t illuminate the rest of the area, which was pitch black. “do you think you could go in there, and check it out? it might be-“

not even letting her finish, i push her far into the door, letting the abyss completely swallow her up. a scream immediately followed.

“HAH-!! next time, don’t tell me what to do, dollface.”

but, there’s no reply.

“rags?”

silence.

“ragatha? you good?”

i tilt my head for a moment, my foot rapidly tapping on it’s own. but, there’s still no response. not even a whisper.

staying silent, i listen out; eventually picking up on some sniffles. i hesitate a moment, before stepping into the room, calling her name out a few more times, waiting a few seconds in-between.

“over here-“ shakily, she responds and immediately, my head turns to the left involuntarily, where i can vaguely see a silhouette, resembling the ragdoll, trembling, sat propped against a wall.

“god, you almost scared me. almost.” i say, to which she laughs, though, that laugh quickly transitions to stifled sobs, “what’re you crying for-? what happened?”

i walk towards her, sitting down next to her. i can barely see her, but, i make out her holding her arm, tight. almost protectively.

“i’m fine, i’m fine—!” the words rush to get out of her, her voice an octave higher than normal.

“don’t bulls**t me, rags.” i retort, and, without thinking, i pick her up, throwing her body over my shoulder as we slowly, carefully leave the room and as soon as we’re in the light again, i set her down on a nearby chair, a dark brown one, layered with a red cushion. she grimaces, leaning back against the chair. taking her arm in my hand, i inspect it, a large, gaping tear in it, stuffing poking out of it. “caught it in something?”

she nods, refusing to meet my eyes as a shuddered breath makes it’s way out of her chest, “i’ll be okay, once the adventure’s over, caine will be able to fix me up-“

“yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re-“ i pause, choosing my words carefully. “whatever. look, i’m.. sorry.” the word didn’t feel right on my tongue, as if it was from a language from planets away.

her pained expression leaves for a moment, as she stares me dead in the eyes, completely dumbfounded. “you’re sorry? i think i misheard-“

“don’t push it, doll.”

she nods, before inspecting the wound on her upper arm, hesitantly touching it.

“ah-“ ragatha immediately pulls away. how is she even surprised-?

“don’t touch it-?! are you stupid or something?” i snap, holding the hand from her uninjured arm, and pulling it back to her side, before reaching up, and touching her face.

she leans into the touch, closing her eyes. her stupid eye, and i take in her appearance properly for the first time.. possibly ever.

her stupid eye, her stupid button, her stupid nose, her stupid liquorice hair, her stupid, stupid face-

and, yet, somehow, it’s sorta endearing.

god, what is wrong with me?

[ao3userwalkingonfirex]

Ianthony Fanfiction

I meant to do this a looooooong time ago, but I'm a procrastinator. Basically, I used to write Ianthony (Smosh) fanfiction like crazy. Ever since Anthony came back to Smosh, I've seen a lot more activity on my fics from that era, so I wanted to make a masterpost here, not just for my own records sake (I have one on my main-blog, but this is my writing blog and I wanted it here too), but in case there are any new Smosh fans who have not read my stuff yet! To be fair, they're pretty buried on ao3 and wattpad because they're like over a decade old. Lmao.

Unspoken  - Standalone. NC-17. Smosh is over. Ian and Anthony don’t know how to live without each other. Angst. Smut. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

Hollow - (TW: Suicide Attempt/Accidental Overdose) Chaptered. NC-17. Anthony is getting married and he couldn’t be happier. That is, until he discovers the downward spiral that Ian is going down. Angst. Smut. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

A Loss for Words - Standalone. NC-17. Ian wants to know why Anthony’s been so down lately. Little does he know that he’s the cause. Angst. Smut. This was my first slash smut so it’s kinda cringey. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

Shut Up - Standalone. Ian wants to express his anger. Anthony just wants Ian to shut up. NC-17. Smut. Angst. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

A Christmas Secret - Standalone. PG. Ian and Anthony are spending Christmas together. Anthony has a surprise for Ian. Fluff. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

Anesthesia - (TW: Self-harm, alcohol and drug use, violence, suicide attempt) Standalone. NC-17. When Anthony uses Ian, he must find a way to cope. Angst. Smut. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

Bitter - Standalone. PG-13. Ian has a conversation with Kalel about Melanie and Anthony. Angst. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

Konstantine - (TW: underage, alcohol use) Standalone. NC-17. AU based upon the song by Something Corporate. Anthony loves Ian and will under any circumstances for eternity. However, when something terrible happens, he learns that simply holding on isn’t always the best option. Smut. Angst. Underage. Wattpad Link

There’s Something You Should Know - Standalone. PG-13. Ian wants to tell Anthony a secret, but little does he know that Anthony has something to tell him, too. Fluff. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

Have Faith in Me - Chaptered. NC-17. A night of passion between the Smosh boys and a stranger results in something unexpected and before they know it, the boys are left to raise a baby girl. Ian couldn’t be happier, but Anthony is less than enthused. He must learn to live with this new lifestyle and feelings between himself and Ian that have been brewing for years. Angst. Smut. Fluff. Wattpad Link Fanfiction.net Link

Synesthesia - (TW: Dubcon, self-harm, alcohol and drug use, suicide attempt) Standalone. NC-17. Ian makes Anthony feel things he can’t comprehend. Anthony’s pov of Anesthesia. Smut. Angst. Wattpad Link

[nunys]

Welcome to my blog!

This is just a little bit about me.

The names you can call me are Angel, Bubbles (my fav PPG growing up), and Nunya. It's my online name. I cannot have my real name on social media.

I am a Baptist Christian †. I don't care if you're of a different religion or choose not to follow any. That's your choice. I don't want people forcing their religion on others, it's kinda annoying and rude. None of that here.

I love to write, sing, and make up choreo to different songs. I won't post much here but my writing and reblogging posts. I might also take requests. No smut or anything inappropriate please. I'm a minor (13-18 years old).

I absolutely live for PJO and anything related to Rick Riordan. Sorry if it looks like an obsession it totally is. I just really love it.

I have one community, "Wood Oak Library/Writing Post". It's for any authors out there. Right now, there are only six people apart of it. Please join if you're interested.😅🫶

Link:

Fav musical artists: Melanie Martínez (I don't believe the accusations), MCR, FOB, Skillet, Get Scared, Set It Off, Sodikken, Mitski, Laufey, Ayesha Erotica (certain songs), Mother Mother, Tchaikovsky.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask in the Request and Question box. I don't really like DMs, but I'm not totally against it. Anything that is appropriate.

Have a great day 🤗

[vensnus]

tw: mention of r4pe and SA.

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I really love Medusa, outside PJO, and she is a great character of greek mythology, however i'm kinda conflicted and between the sword and the wall, with some of Rick's decision,the reaction of pjo fans and ppl who love Roman and Greek myths

I get that Rick wanted to explore the narrative of the roman version (Poseidon r4p1ng,SAd or abuse her and Athena blamed her and turned her into stone), because it got popular for the narrative of the women and victims getting blamed and villianized and punished for the actions caused by men and abusers, in religion, and it got turned into a symbol of "me too" and causes more ppl to want to raise awareness.

Nothing wrong with the purpose,I'm all for BRINGING AWARENESS to others about r4p3,SA,sexual violence,etc. Everyone who is not sick, wants those non consensual acts that harm ppl to dissapear

but I think he could have used another myth to explore those topics,because using that portrayal of Medusa and Poseidon, makes things weirder??, for these reasons:

1. The book portrays Poseidon's and Percy's father-son dynamic: Percy's anger towards his father, but VERY deep down,craving for some of his attention,shifting towards a neutral, polite leaning towards a positive relationship, and the book portrays him like a man that is trying to be a cool father,despite his mistakes. And the book sometimes praises him for that??

Having in mind, the pjo series is supposed to teach and make kids,no matter their gender,sexual and romantic orientation,race and nationality,neurodivergencies and disabilities, we all can be amazing,smart,talented in our own ways, and deserve the same respect, wouldn't the parent-child dynamic Percy and Poseidon be weird? If ur main character keeps contact with someone like that??.

Wouldn't that normalize more than already is, of ppl,but mostly men, of keeping contact with nasty men,just because he is a relative or a friend?? and didn't hurt you?.

2. Why THE Sally Jackson, dated someone like Poseidon or even finishing in good terms?? like if my ex bf was an abuser with other ppl and not me. It doesn't matter,that relationship is ending in bad terms??

"Rick said he wanted to explored it. But he didn't say Medusa got r4ped,maybe he just abused of power. Or athena blamed Medusa because Poseidon crushed on her, pg-13"

Come on, Medusa's lines and way of wording references the roman version,besides everyone even kids ranging from 10-12 know what happened to Medusa

"But myths changes and develop, just to send a message,provides awareness"

You guys literally CHANGED the ORIGINAL myth of Persephone/Hades/Demeter, which HADES KIDNAPPED PERSEPHONE, AND DEMETER SEARCHING FOR HER DAUGHTER., and rewrite it with Persephone going WILLINGLY WITH HADES, just for u to fit the narattive of a "goth bad boy scary looking with bad reputation,but is chill and dates a flower softy girls,that he treats like queen".

and the reaction that the pjo fandom had to Medusa's backstory, is similar to any other fandom when a traumatised character exists, that can be harmful, it feels like a way of romanticizing? and I'm tired of it

"I'm glad they gave Medusa more depth"

Can we as a society stop acting like being victim of mental/physical/sexual abuse?, or any kind of trauma, gives you more depth??. No, trauma doesn't give us depth or make us more complex. Our point of view, our philosophy,our interests, our talents,our personalities does.

Because of that, I have seen middle schoolers and teenagers wanting some sort of trauma,just to be complex?? Which is sad and alarming.

I'm not sure what Riordan is planning or how is going to not mess up,but I hope I can see more of the cast acting more scenes of the book.

[trashcanoffun]

Welcome to my blog :) Here is my about me post!

(DNI and interests list will be below somewhere)

☆ My name isn't important here so just call me TrashcanofFun or PopRockx(my fursona's name)

☆ When I post art about my ocs and characters there will most likely be fake blood. When there is fake blood I will put a trigger warning (TW: trigger word here) so just be warned.

☆ This is a PG-13 blog so I won't post anything NSFW. Please keep in mind that I am still a minor so if you send me an ask please make sure it is PG-13. (if you send me art and there is fake blood in the artwork, that is fine. I'm alright with fake blood just no NSFW. I don't want to see/read anything NSFW related)

Alright random facts about me!

☆ my favorite colors are purple and dark green.

☆ pronouns are she/her

☆ my favorite season is autumn

☆ I can barely play the piano and I can play exactly two songs on the guitar :D

☆ My favorite animals are maned wolves and snow leopards

DNI list:

(If you are one of these or support one of these, get off of my blog)

•homophobic

•transphobic

•z**phille

•MAPS(p*dophilles)

•just rude and hateful people in general

Fandoms:

(all of the fandoms I'm in)

☆ FNAF

☆ Dead by Daylight

☆ Hazbin Hotel (kinda)

☆ Cuphead (game, show, casino cups au, lil Lucifer au included)

☆ Warrior Cats

☆ The Hunger Games

☆ Mandela Catalog (kinda)

☆ Welcome Home

☆ Welcome to NightVale

☆ Creepypasta

(I think that's it but there is definitely more that I forgot about)

Random Interests:

☆ Art

☆ Music

☆ Poetry/Writing

☆ Reading

☆ My own ocs

☆ Angels (I think they're pretty cool)

☆ Saw traps

I think that's pretty much it thanks for reading :)

[bluebellabubbles24]

Love in the Lunar Cycle

Note: First post kinda free handing this for practice. OcXOc don’t know what I’m doing.

Tags?: A/B/O (with a twist-ish), Lesbian, friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pinning, PG-13…

TW: Possessiveness? (Just to be safe), cursing.

*******************

Everything was fine. Famous words for any one person to utter before some kind of tragedy. Well perhaps a tragedy is a bit of an exaggeration for what is going on in Luella’s life at this time. Her and her best friend were getting ready for the annual ball that they, as newly eligible wolfs, were now expected to attend. Most of her turmoil was because although she was excited to attend she had no desire to meet her supposed mate.

She hears her friend Jun sigh softly beside her as they get all dolled up for the ball her dark forest green eyes looking at herself in the mirror skeptically.

“I know we don’t have a choice but I wish we could skip this.” Jun’s soft voice brakes the comfortable silence they had as they got ready before turning her viridian hues towards Luella.

“I know, but think about who’s all gonna be there. You’ll get to meet other Omegas then you won’t be stuck hanging around this scary Alpha.” Luella grins teasing her friend slightly wanting to cheer up the smaller girl.

In the reflection of the mirror she can see Jun give a small smile before rolling her eyes and continue getting ready.

“Scary Alpha, my butt.” Jun mutters, flipping her long brown hair before it once again curves to frame her soft round face. “Only time you’re scary is when someone tries to steal your food or touch me in front of you”

“I’m a growing girl of course I get protective over what’s mine. Come on now Junjun we got a ball to get to and new friends to make.” Luella smiles brightly turning on the balls of her feet doing a dramatic twirl before walking out the door.

———————————>

It’s loud; that is made obvious before they even walk into the building holding the ball. Jun is looking around nervously as she walks closely behind Luella, her fingers pinching part of Luella’s thin coat much like she did when they were children. Feeling the soft tug on her clothes Luella can’t help but feel a sense of warmth filling her chest knowing her friend still feels safe clinging to her and her alone. Slowly Luella reaches back and laces there fingers together, giving Juns hand a reassuring squeeze as they walk into the building.

The building itself was beautiful. Tall pillars that reach the high vaulted ceilings arch, forming almost a cathedral. The decor was simple, nothing too elaborate or distracting. They walked through the halls before reaching the ball room where a large chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room with what seemed to be hundreds, if not thousands, of candles.

“It’s gorgeous” Jun whispers. Luella was only able to hear her over the music by being so close to her side.

“It is.” Luella agrees before turning her honey topaz eyes to Jun and smiling. “And you wanted to miss this.” She teases moving closer to her friends ear making sure she was heard clearly.

“Oh hush.” Jun huffs pushing Luella’s face away pretending to get irritated but Luella could see the corners of her friends lips turned up in a hardly hidden smile at her antics.

Luella grins cheekily before smelling something that makes her mouth water. She starts dragging Jun with her as she follows her nose to a buffet table. Juns eyes rolled as soon as it came into their line of sight. Of course Luella’s nose would take her to food instead of her possible mate. Jun wouldn’t be even slightly surprised if Luella’s mate WAS food. However, that would seem too good to true that Luella would not find her mate and just stay with Jun. If she was honest with herself that’s what Jun wanted but she also wanted Luella to be happy.

“Junbug you should try this avocado stuff. It’s so gooood!” Luella moans, moving a chip with some kind of avocado salad stuff on it close to Juns mouth offering a bite. Jun looks at it skeptically as if inspecting it for anything she wouldn’t like in it. “Junjun you know I wouldn’t offer something if I thought you wouldn’t like it. Come on, I know what you like by now.” Luella says in an alluring tone moving the chip side to side trying to entice Jun into taking the bite.

“Actually it’s about fifty fifty on if you are giving me something good or something you know I would hate just to see my reaction.” Jun sighs, looking unmoved by Luella’s attempts to get her to eat the chip.

“Please. I promise it’s good.” She tries again, giving Jun puppy dog eyes that she knows are her weakness. “Please.” She adds once more, a slight whine to her tone.

“Dammit, fine!” Jun groans exasperated, moving to take the chip from Luella only for her to pull it back and grin wickedly.

“Bite.” She says. Her honey eyes almost glowing amber in her delight. Jun smiles and leans forward eating the chip between her fingers careful to not get her hand. Jun looks at Luella and hums in satisfaction tasting the guacamole salad chip dip thing.

“It’s good” She says, smiling. Luella grins back, showing off her white teeth, before taking another bite.

“Told you. I’m gonna go get us something to drink; any requests before I go?” Luella asks curiously.

“Hmm . . . Strawberry Lemonade? If they have it.” Jun says. A small smile graces her lips before she sits down at the closest chair, which happens to be only a few steps away at another table.

“Okay. I’ll be back Junbug, don’t have too much fun without me.” Luella says with a wink, knowing Jun is to much of a wallflower too actually leave that spot till she came back.

Luella leaves and not long after Jun feels eyes on her. She sinks in her chair a bit wanting to hide as her eyes sweep the crowd, tentatively looking for whomever is making her currently feel like prey. After a bit her emerald eyes meet clear sapphire orbs. Juns body tenses as she looks back at the stranger staring at her. It was a woman with long midnight black hair, her dress doing a wonderful job of showing her long, gorgeous legs. . . She was stunning. Feeling flustered and nervous with Luella gone Jun looks down at the table as she sees the woman starting to approach her. The clicking of her heels sound much louder in Jun’s sensitive ears the closer the she gets.

“Hello, My name is Victoria. May I ask your name, darling?” Victoria asks, with a voice as smooth as velvet. She slowly moves to sit across from Jun, propping her elbow on the table to rest her chin on the back of her hand.

“Juniper. . . It’s nice to meet you” Jun’s soft voice comes out a bit shaky as her hands fiddle with the hem of her dress.

“The pleasure is all mine. Would you care for a dance?” Victoria smiles, a strong scent of peppermint and pine hitting Juns nose.

“I-… no thank you. I have two left feet when it comes to dancing.” She says feeling herself getting more anxious. Her eyes darted in the direction Luella went hoping she’ll come back soon.

“I don’t mind. I’ve been told I’m a rather good teacher. If you would like I could show you a few things.” Victoria’s voice comes out as a purr. She moves her free hand across the table, slowly trailing it up Jun’s arm. Jun quickly moves her arm away eyes now fully focused on Victoria.

“Please don’t touch me.” She says. Her voice is trembling a bit and barely over a whisper. She can feel her skin start to prickle before the soothing scent of fresh rain and floral waterlilies makes its way into her nose. The familiar scent made her relax just a bit and soon after she felt Luella’s gentle hand on her shoulder. Luella starts rubbing small circles onto her skin in a calming way causing Jun to lean into her touch as she stares Victoria down.

“Is there a problem here?” Her voice is sharp and straight to the point, her hackles standing on edge. Victoria looks up at her and slowly backs off.

“My apologies. I didn’t realize you already had a mate, little one.” She says, her eyes glancing at Jun before going back to Luella. “You have a lovely mate and a lovely night.” She smiles and calmly takes her leave. Luella stood stiff as a board, her mind racing with what was just revealed to her before looking down at Jun.

“Huh?”

“Wait you mean you didn’t know!?” The surprised tone of her wolf in her subconscious doing very little to snap her out of the confusing thoughts running wild in her head.

“What do you mean ‘wait you didn’t know’? Of course I didn’t know! How did you know before me? Why didn’t you tell me!?” Luella thought through the mental link to her wolf. Jun sitting in silence but the look on her face suggests she is having the same mental conversation with her wolf.

“I thought it was obvious!” Luella’s wolf’s voice almost booms in her head defensively.

“Clearly fucking NOT!” Luella was now blushing a deep red, her hand still on Jun’s shoulder. Luella looks down only able to see a small bit of Jun’s face she leans down, her hand tucking a bit of her brown hair behind her ear so she can see Jun’s face better.

“Hey Jun?” She asks, wanting to get her attention before saying anything else. Jun didn’t respond. Luella’s eyes widen slightly noting a small blush slowly spreading across her cheeks.

“Ah young mates. Remember that?” They hear an older woman not so quietly whisper to her husband, making them blush more. Not wanting any more attention Luella grabs Jun’s hand and drags her outside away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears. She finds a secluded garden and sits Jun down on a bench.

Luella kneels in front of Jun, her friend… her mate. She slowly lifts her hand to caress Jun’s cheek, her voice soft as she looks at Jun.

“Jun. . . Are you okay?” Her voice is shaky, as if trying to fight something back.

“Fine. Just… I’m your mate.” Jun says. It’s not a question but it doesn’t quite feel like she believes it. “Your mate.” She repeats her green eyes look up locking onto Luella’s topaz irises. Slowly Luella nods her head not braking eye contact.

“Yes… and I’m your mate.” She speaks slowly, trying hard not to naw at her bottom lip. “Is that okay?” She asks unsure, her heart beating a mile a second as she continues to stare at her mate under the full moonlight.

“Okay? Is being my mate okay?” Jun asks slowly before her hands clap over Luella’s cheeks squishing them together. “It’s perfect!” She practically shouts, her eyes wandering all over Luella’s face. Luella can’t help but smile at her words before she starts tearing up. She pulls their faces closer together so their foreheads are resting against one another.

“Perfect… you are so perfect Jun” Luella says with a shaky breaths, feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the emotions.

“So are you.” She whispers breathily.

“Luella?” She asks, getting her attention. Luella can only let out a weak hum in reply, her eyes closing with their heads still resting against each-other.

“May I kiss you?”

The request almost made Luella’s heart stop before beating so fast she thought it might beat out of her chest and she nods. Opening her topaz eyes she leans in, once again pushing a strand of Jun’s hair back behind her ear.

“Of course my love… anything you want.” Luella whispers. Jun leans in and so does she, meeting her halfway as their lips connect. It’s soft and sweet, their lips fitting together like the perfect puzzle pieces.

[peterparkersnose]

hey sweetness! love your writing it's so amazing! also i love the fact that you use y/n. hope you're doing well 💕

had a request for you if you're taking them?

it goes based off the last 2 episodes of the last of us and warning it's kinda dark

y/n and ellie get kidnapped by david and his people. they keep ellie in one room and y/n in a separate room. long story short ellie escapes finds y/n and finds out that y/n was S A by david. y/n zones out of the world and just feels lifeless. david comes back and ellie kills him. ellie tries to get y/n out of the house but she can't. ellie runs outside and runs into joel. she tries to explain what's going on but she's in shock.

**story break**

joel and ellie try to make y/n feel better but y/n is still stuck in this state of depression. y/n can see that they're talking to her but she can't make out the words they're saying.

i would like to write this myself and post it but i suck at writing but i hope you like the idea if not feel free to reply to this saying it sucks lol

thnx bbg 💕

⚠️ TW// SA

Hi! Thanks for the request. You were so kind, but the fact that you want me to write a story around SA is not okay. I do not support that kind of writing, nor will I ever write anything like that.

I will not glorify it, make it a plot point, or use it in my stories ever. It is a true unfortunate thing that happens, but my writing will never involve it. I don’t want to harm people who have been through similar situations and trigger them. I care about the safety of my readers more than anything.

If you would like to request something more appropriate and not harmful, I am always open to at least hearing out requests.

But never, under any circumstance, will I involve SA in my story, even if it is implied. My writings usually stay in the PG-13 category and will continue to stay there. I am not the person to ask to write this.

Have a nice night.

[theanimeawarenessproject]

Rating: Red (sadly)

*Lycoris Recoil / リコリス・リコイル -* it's really unfortunate that this has to go in red. This was a genuinely fun and enjoyable anime, and while I do recommend checking it out if you're up for it, episode fours existence lands it here. Be aware of that fact going in. Please also be aware that this anime is NOT shy with it's use of blood, mild gore, and death, and I am not messing around when I say that. Unfortunately, what put this one here is underskirt shots and an entire episodes plot based on underwear and repeatedly forcibly looking at it. More below. Most things put this at pg-13 but it absolutely is NOT. I cannot recommend this for anyone under the age of 16 or 17, but I can't stop you either.

Genres : **Girls with Guns,** Action, Drama, Slice of Life (?)

Type : TV series

Ran From : Summer release of July 2nd to September 24th, 2022

Trigger Warnings : **Flashing Lights, Flashing Colours, Static Effects, Disorienting Camera Effects, Guns, Government exploitation and experimentation on underage individuals, eugenicist rhetoric, the death penalty dealt for crimes ranging from theft to terrorism in equal measure, minors in extremely dangerous situations,** arms dealing, guns being held to heads, guns pointed near or at the camera, onscreen corpses including the corpses of underaged individuals, Screams of fear pain and death, photos of extreme distress taken without knowledge or consent, bullying, rumour spreading, extreme joy shown during the attempted killing of a train full of people, eye contact, closeups on eyes and mouths, pointless gendering of clothing and especially undergarments, chest touching joke, terrorism, police brutality, "fat basement dwelling hacker found with cp" joke, reckless driving, spitting blood into someone's eyes, heavy weaponry and explosives, alcoholism, gesturing with guns, some nudity (nothing shown but it's uncomfortable regardless), drugging with intent to harm or kill, terminal illness being treated rather carelessly, saving lives for personal gain, attempting to force someone into murder, suicidal action, religious references.

Episode Specific Warnings :

**This is not an episode specific trigger, but it should be noted that it is possible that one of the characters is a Loli.** Kurumi seems to be anywhere from 10 to 12, and she speaks and acts similarly to an adult, and her alias has been active for 30+ years. It isn't confirmed nor denied, but this is something to be aware of.

1 - brutal onscreen murder of a person in a squirrel costume. 16:00 to 16:20. The body is shown many many times afterwards.

3 - changing room scene from 6:49 to 7:36.

4 - This episodes plotline revolves around one of the main characters being ridiculed for wearing "men's" underwear. The underwear is shown on screen multiple times, and both of the main characters have their underwear forcibly looked at either by eachother or an adult. Near the end of the episode, one of the main characters underwear is forcibly exposed to a room full of people where she is subsequently humiliated and held against her will. ALL of this is played as jokes, and unfortunately, outside of the underwear hell, this episode contains major plot points for the story and is very difficult to skip over. This episode alone is what initially landed this show in Red sadly :(

5 - this is a direct spoiler, open with caution (tw death)

*

*

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*

*

a man's corpse is strapped to a fancy wheelchair, rolled around and thought to be alive through the entire plot of this episode.

*

*

*

*

6 - the blood spit and blood in eyes is from 18:02 - 18:43, however, the blood stays on their faces until 20:26 (a rocket launcher is also shot literally right at the main villain in this sequence.)

7 - there's a lot of eavesdroping in this episode, and uh. Takina bonks her face right into Chisatos butt at 15:23-15:25 when Chisato stops moving abruptly.

.

8 - Chisato is briefly held hostage by the main villain from 12:15 - 13:30 and then they kinda just vibe for a while, Chisato is drugged at 21:09 in this episode, and this carries to the start of the next

9 - from 00:00 to 00:14 the yikes lady breaks Chisatos heart (literally), the consequences of this last the rest of the show, and she is out until after the intro.

12 - there's breif hair pulling but I can't for the life of me find the time stamp.

Extra warnings: I know theres an episode where a girl gets hit by a car and then executed via gun fire, I cannot find it but it's near the end of an episode.

Extra Notes : man it really is unfortunate that this is a red. It was a really fun watch :( please always remember to be critical of your interests!

[thebulletinhamilton-quotes]

#1 and #2 for Angst prompts on C (Take ur time on posting things :3)

“I think we should break up.”

“You aren’t who I thought you were.”

A/N: so sorry this took so long but I hope you like it! Guys please send me more (it forces me to write!) prompts. Send me crack pairings (no abuse, pedophilie, or incest), all the pairings. Anyway thank you for my ted talk.

Summary: Relationships without fairness will result in disasters. HamBurr, modern au. Angst! Relationship, break up.

——

On a hot sunny morning, Aaron awakens to a hurricane within in his own house. He can hear cabinets shaking, doors slamming, feet stomping and....

The unmistakable sound of packing, he realizes with a panic. He throws his jeans on and grabs a discard shirt before running down the steps. His suspicions are correct when he sees him at the door before it opens. Aaron can’t help himself when his mouth has a mind of its own.

“Where are you going?” The question hangs dead in the air, like an animal that has been slaughtered. Aaron watches Alexander, short and stubborn, turn around to meet his gaze. With his dark brown eyes and messy dark brown hair, Alexander can make anyone fall in love with him.

However, his eyes are pleading with Aaron, no begging Aaron to please let me go, if you love me let me go——Aaron cuts through the noise. This time he doesn’t hesitate.

“Alexander. Where are you going?” He asks the unusual quiet man before him. Alexander meets his gaze head on. Like a solider ready for battle —— Aaron can’t help but observe to himself when Alexander speaks:

“I think we should break up. You’re not the person who I thought you were.” Alexander’s soft voice might as well have been a slap in the face.

Aaron bares his teeth at Alex, pride picked. “What does that even mean?” He hisses out, angry that Alexander is just going to throw this all the way for no reason——

“I saw the texts, Aaron.” Alexander says with a neutral expression like they are discussing the weather. Yet his voice betrays the anger and the rising hurt.“I know she’s seeking a divorce from him thanks to you.” He practically spites back at Aaron. Aaron can’t help but wince.

The mother of his child, Theodosia, is finally breaking free from her husbands hold. Burr is happy for her, he really is but he’s not in love with Theo and——

“Alex, there is nothing going on between us. We are just friends——“ Aaron can’t help but feel aggravated over the fact that they have had this convo more than once.

Alexander levies a glare at him. “If you guys are just friends, then why can’t Theo meet Philip? What is so wrong with that?” Alexander tells him, his voice rising. “Why can’t my son come live here with us but it’s okay that Theo lives with us? No, I can’t keep doing this to my own family. You’re not the only one with a kid, Aaron.” Alexander practically burns Aaron’s skin with fire.

Suddenly, Aaron finds himself speechless. Because Theo is his every world. Because this relationship was never going to work——his thoughts fly through him faster than the speed of light. It’s the opening of the door and bags rustling when Aaron is blinded by the morning sunlight. Alexander stands in the middle of it, his gaze unfazed.

“Good bye, Aaron.” As fast as the moment happened, it’s gone. Alexander closes the door to——

A/N: @crackerqueen-ineedsleep let me know what you think!

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 8! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Mentions of sex. Nudity. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: PG-13 (ish?) (but other parts are very NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 4994

A/N: Our Reader is feeling it, y'all! I am, too! Getting into the right headspace for this part was tricky for whatever reason, and it's a bit long, so thanks for your patience. I wanted to get a bit more backstory in there, so hopefully the flashback scene works well. And a little Young!Elvis doesn't hurt anyone, right? I also couldn't help myself and HAD to include the detail about his stutter because I just keep finding all these deliciously real and human parts of him that make him such a rich, full person/character, so forgive me my indulgence!

To all the babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments mean the absolute WORLD to me. Finding out that some of y'all are liking it enough to be reading it MULTIPLE times blows my freakin' mind. Like whaat?! This story (and EP) has taken over my heart and soul, so for those of you still with me, and to all the newcomers, I'm sending you all the love! And I promise there's more good stuff coming ahead, complete with more smut, angst, and tension.

I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks since now I know how they work lol)! I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

1957

“So, I hear you’re gonna make an honest man out of our Jacky Boy.”

You look up from your seated spot on the cool grass, Elvis’ tall frame lording over you in the dark of this humid midsummer night and you smile.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you blush happily, playing with the small, simple diamond that now adorns the ring finger of your left hand. It’s not much, but it’s yours. You can barely stop staring at it, you are so excited.

Elvis folds himself down next to you on the lawn, his long limbs a little less lanky than they used to be. A couple of years of being well-fed after a lifetime of poverty has done him well. He looks good, albeit tired. Hollywood and fame have certainly made him more beautiful, his resting face now always looking like it’s ready for a close-up, but the lightness that used to surround him is a little heavier, a little darker now, like he has the world resting on his shoulders.

He turns his head to really look at you, taking you in. It’s a look that might’ve made you self-conscious at any other time, but it’s dark and you’re too distracted by your engagement ring to really notice. “You happy, doll?” he asks, but answers it himself, “You look happy.”

You can’t stop smiling. “Yes, I’m most certainly happy,” you reassure him.

“Good,” he nods as if this has satisfied him in some way. Then he leans back, laying down in the grass, and stares up at the stars. That look comes over him again, the heavy one. It worries you a little. He’s been gone so much lately, and things have been moving so quickly for him, you’ve barely had a moment to talk in what feels like forever.

“How ‘bout you, E, are you happy?” you ask quietly, looking down at him.

He is silent at first, and you almost don’t catch the sigh he lets out before speaking, “I ain’t got nothing to be unhappy about, baby. All my dreams are coming true.” He says it almost as though he’s trying to convince himself of it. He doesn’t look at you, instead focusing all his attention on the sky.

“You didn’t really answer the question,” you say gently.

He finally looks over at you, those big blue eyes of his exhausted, rimmed with dark circles. “It’s all been moving so fast, I barely got time to catch my breath. I’m constantly around people, but sometimes I feel so lonely, y/n…and Hollywood ain’t all it’s cracked up to b-be,” he says quickly, but in a whisper, as though he’s terrified to be overheard.

You open your mouth to speak, but he rushes to continue: “And I don’t w-w-wanna seem ungrateful or nothin’ b-b-b-because I-I-I am gettin’ to do what I love to do and I’m supportin’ my family and it makes lots of folks happy, and God’s b-b-blessed me with that…b-b-but so many people hate me, makin’ it their mission to misunderstand me and they don’t even know me.” He takes a deep shuddering breath, frustrated and trying to get the words out.

You know he’s emotional and tired because his stutter keeps getting in his way as he tries to speak. Most people don’t even know he has one because it doesn’t happen when he sings, and he sure as hell doesn’t let it stop him from doing what he wants to do, but you’ve heard it pop up now and again in conversation over the years, usually with nerves or when he’s “excited,” as he calls it. He told you how he thought he’d blown his initial screen test in Hollywood because of it, because he was so nervous that he couldn’t get the words to come out like he needed them to. Luckily, he said the director liked it and even said it made his acting seem more genuine. You find it endearing because it’s a very real part of him and his humanity, which you think is something much needed when the world is striving to make him a commodity. It still makes him a little self-conscious, though, so you don’t rush him or react, you just wait for him to continue.

 “Sometimes I-I feel like I’m b-b-being pulled in a dozen different directions, all at o-once. I-I-I constantly feel like I’m tryin’ to prove myself. Sometimes it just gets to me, is all. So, to answer your question, yes, I am happy, but it sure comes with a price,” he pauses. “I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t’ve unloaded on you like that, today of all days,” he says, eyes now downcast and concerned.

“Don’t you feel sorry. I asked, and I’m glad you answered me truthfully. Seems like you needed to get that off your chest,” you say kindly, with a small smile. You hate to see him so weighed down. But you are pleased and surprised by him being so vulnerable with you. It makes you feel like you’ve got your friend back.

“You won’t go tellin’ no one, will ‘ya? Not even Jack,” he pleads, looking at you wide-eyed.

“Of course not, Elvis. I swear it,” you say seriously. You wouldn’t dream of betraying his trust.

He nods, relieved, and looks back up at the stars.

“I’m real proud of you, E, all of us are. It takes a special person to do what you do with the grace you do it with. God knows I couldn’t do it,” you say, suddenly feeling a little shy.

Elvis looks at you with surprise. “Thanks, y/n, that means a lot comin’ from you,” he says and the way his pretty eyes search your face sends a strange feeling through your body.

You don’t know what to say to that, so silence sits heavy, but not uncomfortably, between you.

Playing with your engagement ring, knees pulled into your chest, you look into the night sky.

“How’d ya know? That Jack’s the one?” he suddenly asks, out of nowhere.

The question both surprises and delights you. “Hmmm, well, let’s see,” you ponder. “He’s there when I need him. He makes me feel special, like the only girl in the world. I know he’ll always take care of me. He is mine and I am his. Sometimes I almost feel like we were made for each other, ya’ know, like we were meant to be,” you rattle off. “That may seem silly and saccharine and hopelessly romantic, but it’s true. So, I suppose that’s how I know I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him,” you say, a giddy excitement running through you.

Elvis is quiet, his face unreadable. You’re not sure why, but you feel like you’ve said something to upset him.

“Why? You got a special girl or three, Mr. Presley?” you ask, in a faux-reporter voice, holding a pretend mic to his mouth to try and lighten the mood.

“Ha!” he scoffs with a laugh and a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, it must be so hard for you, to have thousands of beautiful girls to choose from, all clamoring for a piece of you,” you tease. You know he is dating quite a bit because he brings some of them home, whether from Hollywood or somewhere on the road. He always seems to be falling hard and fast for a new girl, but they never seem to last.

“No, there’s no one special I’m datin’,” he says, sitting up, intently playing with a blade of grass. “I mean, I’m seein’ lots of nice girls, great girls, even. It’s just…none of them’s the one.”

You are a little taken aback by his honest answer. “Well, you can’t force it, E. You’ll know when it’s right,” you say, patting his hand.

Elvis looks down sharply at your hand on his, almost like it’s burned him. “Yeah, I reckon I will,” he says, looking back up at you, his face unreadable once more. He’s gotten too good at that in Hollywood, you think, shutting the vulnerable parts of himself off from an untrustworthy world.

For the second time this night, silence hangs over you. This time it feels charged, but by what you do not know. You can’t figure out what’s going on with him.

“You gettin’ enough sleep, E?” His moodiness has always been worse when he’s tired.

“Oh, you know me, doll. I was barely sleeping before all this and now I sleep even less,” he replies. “There’s too much to do and I got all this-this crazy energy, ya know?” He wiggles his limbs, exaggerating. You can’t help but laugh.

But your laughter dies out quickly. “Seriously, Elvis, promise me you’ll at least try to get some rest while you’re home. It worries me to think you’re running yourself ragged.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything, as if he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t keep. Instead, he abruptly changes the subject.

“C-c-congratulations, y/n. Jack’s a lucky guy and I-I’m glad you’re happy. You—you both—deserve all the happiness,” Elvis says, his gaze kind but guarded. Then, unexpectedly, he leans over and presses his lips softly to your cheek. They are warm and plush against your skin, lingering there for just a moment too long. Your breath catches and you can feel heat blossom through your body and into your cheeks in a way that surprises you.

Then, just like that, he pulls away, getting up and brushing himself off, like nothing happened. He holds his hand out to you to help you up off the ground. “We should get back,” he says.

You blink rapidly, trying to process the last few moments. You are glad the darkness hides the red on your cheeks. Elvis seems unaffected, so you take his hand and let him help you up. You chalk whatever strangeness that has happened up to Elvis being exhausted, pushing whatever silly, fleeting thoughts you have far, far away.

*

The long-buried memory hits you hard as you stand at the door to Elvis’ bedroom, poised to knock. You’ve spent all night in anticipation of this moment, excited and nervous about whatever comes next, but this memory shakes you, knocking something loose in your brain. Something you had forgotten until just now.

You are trying to grasp it, the thing that is niggling at the corners of your mind, but before you can lock on to whatever it is, the door swings open, startling you. You didn’t remember knocking—it’s like Elvis just knew you were there.

And immediately everything else is forgotten because the tantalizing smell of him wafts over you, and your heart starts to pitter patter in your chest because he’s just so beautiful, and the brilliance of his light blue, dark-rimmed eyes nearly knocks you over.

Elvis pulls you in to the room quickly, trying to avoid any possible prying eyes, shutting the door quietly. The light is much dimmer in here and it’s silent, save for the sound of your breathing. He is so, so close, his eyes travelling over your body approvingly. His eyes ignite flames within you wherever they linger.

“I knew you’d be a showstopper in this, baby. And the tan is a nice touch,” he says, smiling coyly, running a finger down your bare arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

Words get lost in your throat because all you know is that you need him. So instead of words, you grasp his face and kiss him as if your life depends on it. You sense his surprise at your boldness in the way he tenses at first, but it takes only a second before his arms wrap around you, and those soft, pliant lips open to yours.

But the butterflies happening in your stomach now are different than the heat you’ve experienced when kissing him before and that surprises you. Scares you, even, because the heat and the sex make a certain kind of sense. It’s biological, you think, natural to be drawn to him. Everyone is drawn to him. What you’ve already shared physically, what he is teaching you about pleasure, is addicting—you want more. Of course, you do. But what’s happening to you now is more than that, as much as you want to push it away and deny it.

You pull back from him slowly, his lips chasing yours with another gentle kiss. Your eyes raise, meeting the endless blue of his, and you are caught there, drowning, as you try to understand the man he is now. You can’t help but think that these are the same eyes that looked upon you on the lawn of Graceland so many years ago. Reconciling that Elvis with this Elvis feels so utterly strange. So much life has happened between then and now, yet under it all, you can still see that sensitive young man, striving and eager for everything life has to offer.

“Well, hello to you, too, honey,” he says softly, searching your face, trying to gauge what is going on with you.

“Hi,” you breathe out, “I missed you.” It just falls out of your mouth, a truth you aren’t sure you should reveal, but it’s too late now. It feels silly—you saw him less than 24 hours ago, but it feels like a lifetime.

This pleases him, his mouth turning up in a small smile. “I missed you, too,” he replies, giving you another soft kiss.

This invokes your own smile, a shy one. Your stomach continues to flutter like a schoolgirl’s.

He pulls you into the room, your hand small in his, the Vegas skyline bright outside the huge windows. To think, just a few nights ago, you stood in this very spot, furious and ripping him a new one for ruining your life. Feels like a million years ago now.

Elvis is barefoot, wearing a set of satiny deep blue pajamas, which somehow, even though they are sleepwear, still flatter him. You suddenly feel quite overdressed. You’re not sure what he has in store for you because his countenance doesn’t quite match the sexual fire from when he dominated you on the couch and sent you to the stars last night, but he is somehow no less intense.

His fingers brush through the pink fringe of your top, feathering over the bare skin of your back as he moves around you to a box on top of the piano. Curious, you move with him, stopping as he lifts out a slip of a nightgown that matches his pajamas exactly. Your eyebrow quirks.

Setting it back down, he glides towards you, wrapping his arms around your back. “Let’s get you more comfortable,” he says, unzipping your top slowly, removing it, throwing it to the side. You shiver under his gaze, exposed in the lacy petal pink bra he bought you. He looks delighted that you are wearing it, though his gaze is still light and controlled, even though he is undressing you.

“Shoes,” he tuts, and you slip out of your heels, kicking them to the side. Your eagerness builds, the fluttering in your stomach wild and catching fire, but you let him guide you, as he seems wont to do.

He reaches around and unzips your skirt, pulling it gently over your hips and it falls in a heap at your feet. He hums and looks over you approvingly in your matching underwear, and the look alone has you weak in the knees. It’s criminal how handsome he is and what it does to you. Based on your previous encounters, you half expect him to take you right there, but he makes no move to do so. Your breath is shallow, your body on alert, waiting on pins and needles.

Next, moves in close, his fingers brushing up your spine. A shudder courses through you. He unhooks your bra, sliding it off you and placing it on top of the piano. You think for sure he will now devour you, but he waits.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Elvis whispers, taking in your figure and you suddenly feel shy under his adoring gaze. You resist the urge to cover yourself, your nipples standing at attention in the cool air. He doesn’t touch you (you desperately want him to), though you can see by the smoldering in his eyes he wants to, too. Instead, he hands you the nightie. “Put it on,” he requests, and while you are confused, you do as he asks. The expensive, silky softness drapes over you, hanging perfectly off your frame.

Nodding as though some requirement that is unknown to you has been fulfilled, he pulls you into him, kissing your forehead. His embrace is warm and comforting against the cold of the air conditioning and you wind your arms around his neck, fingers weaving into his fine hair. While there is heat growing in your belly for him, it is like glowing embers rather than an engulfing flame.

This feels different. And then you realize, it all feels so domestic.

The thought is jarring, yet not unwanted. You had assumed (rightly so) that he wanted you here so you could fuck all night long. But this, this is a decidedly different vibe to your uninterrupted night together. And while you are a bit confused and surprised by it, you are curious.

“Elvis,” you say quietly, without expectation, “what is this?”

A boyish grin spreads across his face, reminding you of the memory that blindsided you before, the one you still need to dissect. “I want all of you, not just a part of you,” he says, nuzzling your nose with his. It sends tingles down your arms. You’re not quite sure exactly what it means, but you get the gist that he wants more than sex from you and that is surprising.

Is it, though?

He pulls you up and onto the huge bed with him. You lean back against the pillows, the ornate headboard, and he turns to you, brushing flyaway hairs off your face. His crystalline eyes have an openness you haven’t seen in a long time, as though all the glitz and glamour of “Elvis” is stripped away and it’s truly just the man here in front of you.

“How was your day?” he asks.

It’s such a simple question, yet the fact that he asks it of you almost has you in tears. Perhaps it’s because until this moment you haven’t realized that it feels like no one has asked you that, or truly cared to, in a very long time. And the fact that it is coming from him, of all people, makes your heart simultaneously break and leap at the same time.

You clear your throat, pushing the emotion away. “I…uh, well, I went to the pool with Sandy. Hence the tan. She happened to be in the room when your gift arrived, though, so that was interesting to try and explain,” you say.

“And what did you tell her?” he asks, resting his head on his hand, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. You are distracted by them and almost forget what he asked.

“Um, I basically told her I couldn’t tell her anything. How could I? I mean, we haven’t really talked about…” you motion between you two, “us, this. I couldn’t very well talk to her about it before I talked to you.”

He smiles that crooked smile of his, the one that melts your heart. “And how did she take that?”

“Oh, she was disappointed but didn’t pry. As soon as she saw the underwear, though, she’s made it her mission to figure out who the mystery man is. She’s been my shadow all night. It’s gonna be hard to keep this from her for very long,” you say dismally.

He laughs. “You can tell her, honey,” he says.

This floors you. “What? But aren’t you afraid…I mean...?” you worry.

Elvis puts his hand on your cheek. “Baby, I wanna keep seein’ you, and I think you wanna keep seein’ me.” The way he says it sends warmth radiating through your chest. But that warmth is quickly chased by cold, pragmatic fear.

He continues, “And I know she’s your best friend and y’need someone y’can talk to. Jerry knows already, anyway. I’ll make sure she knows to be discreet.”

Your mouth opens then closes. To say you are flabbergasted by this response doesn’t quite describe what you are feeling. It’s a mixture of relief, surprise, elation, confusion, and terror, and what seems like a hundred other things, all at once.

If Sandy knows, it makes this all real. Too real. This was only supposed to be a one-time thing. A way to stick it to Jack. A way to take some power back. A way to quell the unbridled sexual tension that had grown between you and Elvis.

But now you feel wildly out of control. Mind-blowing sex with the ethereal man in front of you has morphed so quickly into a passion you didn’t expect that you feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs. The more you think about it and the more you remember, no matter how much you are shoving it away, you know that this was never going to be a one-time thing for Elvis. He knew it, too. The fact that you are here right now, like this, is proof. And you are not sure if that makes you elated or angry. Maybe it’s both.

This is too dangerous. Go back to Memphis and forget this ever happened.

Maybe that would have worked two nights ago, but the thought of leaving him now fills you with more despair than the anxiety of staying.

What happens if this all blows up in our faces? Because you think it will. You can feel the pressure building even now, though you aren’t sure to what end.

Elvis seems so utterly calm, so sure. You don’t know if this is because he lives in a world so above everyone that everything seems possible, like a strange naivety, or if he is just an optimist, but either way, you don’t know how to respond. You know you have to say something, though, because of the way he is looking at you, his eyes expectant and watchful.

“How? How are we gonna keep seeing each other, E? I go home tomorrow. And what about Jack?” you say in a whisper, all your emotions caving in on you at once. Tears spring to your eyes, which is not at all what you want or expect, and you are mad at yourself for ruining the mood.

“Hey, hey now, darlin’,” Elvis says with concern, sitting up and taking your face in his hands. “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry. I got it all figured out. I’ll take care of you, honey,” he reassures you. He kisses your tears as they fall down your cheeks, his lips soft and warm.

Then, unexpectedly, he leans over and presses his lips softly to your cheek. They are warm and plush against your skin, lingering there for just a moment too long.

The memory flashes back to you, startling you as the past and present meld together.

He kissed you then much like he’s kissing you now. You pull back and look at him with wide eyes.

“Baby, y’look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he asks, eyes searching your face.

So many seeds have taken root, blossoming in your mind. (Or maybe they’ve always been fully bloomed, and I just never saw them.) You shake your head. Your heart is beating too fast. This isn’t the time to dive into this.

But when? you wonder.

How long has he…?

No, absolutely not. You won’t let yourself go there, you can’t, not now, not when he’s looking at you like this.

“I’m sorry, E, I just got caught off guard and got overwhelmed,” you finally respond, wiping your cheeks. “You—you said you have it all figured out?”

Throwing it back to him is the right call because now he’s excited. “You’re stayin’ in Vegas, honey.” He says it so matter-of-factly that you want to believe him, but you don’t understand.

Your heart drops into your stomach, as if you are plummeting down a roller coaster, the feeling where fear and excitement meet. “Elvis, you’re not making any sense. If I stay in Vegas, Jack is gonna want to know why, and I certainly can’t say I’m here for you. And I’m pretty sure Jack doesn’t particularly want me here, anyways,” you say with distain.

“Jack’s got his fuckin’ head wedged so far up his ass, he can’t see straight,” Elvis says, blatantly annoyed. “Don’t you worry ‘bout him.”

Don’t worry about him? He’s my husband! You almost say it, then think better of it, not wanting to get into that right now. Plus, you are curious as to this solution Elvis has miraculously come up with.

“Baby, remember the other night when you’s was tellin’ me you’re unhappy, that you don’t know where you belong, what your purpose is?” he says, practically bouncing.

You nod. How could you forget? That’s what started this all in the first place.

“Well, I figured it out. You belong here, with me, with us,” he says, beaming, taking your hand in both of his. You can feel him vibrating with energy.

“Wait, what…? Us? Who’s us?” you say, utterly confused.

“Us, the show. We’ve been talkin’ about needin’ someone to sing the high voice parts, along with the Sweet Inspirations. And it just came to me, after you were singin’ in the shower. It’s you. Of course, it’s you. Now you have a reason to stay. We get to be together, and the show will have a new member. It’s perfect.” His excitement is palpable, he’s nearly glowing with it.

Oh, this man is outta his goddamned mind. You shake your head, shock and fear like ice in your veins. “Elvis, do you not remember me telling you how terrified I am of singing in front of people? I could barely sing in front of you without having a meltdown!” you practically shriek, dousing his elation.

“Hey, there’ll be none of that!” Elvis raises his voice at you, eyes darkening. It’s not a yell, but it’s stern as hell, and you realize that Elvis probably doesn’t like having his “good idea” shot down before it’s barely out of his mouth. His change in demeanor shakes you enough to calm down a little. You know him well enough to know his mood can change on a dime, and you don’t think you can handle that on top of your own panic right now. You force yourself to take a long, deep breath.

“I’m not sayin’ you’re gettin’ up on stage with me tomorrow, honey, but I am sayin’ that maybe you need a little trainin’ to prepare you for the possibility that it could happen. And that trainin’ needs to happen here, in Vegas, with a vocal coach I already got comin’ in,” he explains more gently.

You are starting to understand what he’s getting at, and your fear abates a little. He’s not saying you’re joining the band (yet), but if you are training for it, whether it happens or not, you have a reason to stay.

“Now, I know you love music, baby, I know it in my bones cuz I see it in you, always have, plain as day. Maybe this is that purpose you’ve been lookin’ for. It’s kismet, I’m tellin’ you, honey, all this happenin’, here at once. You and me. Us needin’ another singer. Even Jack bein’ a dipshit. Can’t you see, baby? It’s meant to be,” he says fervently, holding onto your shoulders, his eyes wild with passion. He’s so enthusiastic, it’s hard to not be swept up with him.

It's meant to be…

You nod, letting him pull you along down this road. You do love music. You have been searching for something, a purpose. And you’d get to be here with him, not thousands of miles away, being sad and lonely in Memphis. What do you have to lose?

A lot, a voice counters. This is a bad idea.

You quash that voice, wanting to believe in this as much as Elvis does. As scared as you are of how out of control he makes you feel, how your feelings for him (and his for you) terrify you, you know that the stifling sadness of your old routine is slowly draining the life out of you.

If nothing else, Elvis makes you feel alive.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Elvis beams. “Really? Okay?” he asks.

“Okay, I’ll try it. I’ll work with your coach. But I can’t promise I’ll be any good or even be able to get up there,” you add pointedly.

You have to give him credit, though, because the more you think about it, the more genius the idea becomes. It could actually work in terms of your relationship, whatever it may be. But more importantly, the thought of doing something with music, something outside yourself, is enticing.

“That’s okay, we’ll just take it one step atta time,” he says, ecstatic. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “I just want you to be happy, baby. I wanna make you happy.”

God, he says it with such fervor, such sincerity, that you can’t help but be enveloped in it with him. The fact that anyone out there has your happiness at the forefront of their mind is amazing to you, much less it being Elvis Presley. And he seems to believe in you in a way you haven’t even believed in yourself in a very long time.

And that does make you happy.

Even if it scares the hell out of you.

**

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[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

The Studio of Dreams

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: Yes! - anon

Prompt: Elvis x singer!reader. What happens in Hollywood can change lives, right? [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: None!

Rating: Pg-13     ||     Word Count: 1680

A/N: It certainly can change lives, Nonnie. I put the names of the songs I used at the bottom! I actually had to do some research for this one, but it was fun! (smut is coming soon my pretties 😏 )

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Y/N, honey, I need you here!”

You turn at the sound of your name to see your manager, Frances, beckoning you to her. You waddle over, careful not to move too much so your hairstylist Louella can fix your hair.

“What is it, Frances?”

“Honey, we got a call about a possible collaboration for a new song. Do you think you’d be interested?”

“A collaboration?” you ask, clapping your hands together and doing a little hop. “With who?”

“A Mr. Elvis Presley. I think he’s very popular with the southern girls, but from what I can see he’s becoming quite famous all over,” Frances responds.

“Well I’ll be! What kinda music does this Mr. Presley play?”

“A little bit of everything, but he’s asking for a country duet. Something nice and slow.”

“Well,” you say, adjusting the fringe at the bottom of your skirt, “you can tell Mr. Presley that I am very interested.”

Two weeks later you're walking into a recording studio in Memphis, Tennessee. As usual, Frances has scheduled you so that you are early. Your counterpart, Mr. Presley, hasn't arrived yet. Frances has to attend a meeting, and she knows better than to second-guess your ability to handle yourself.

“Will you be alright here on your own? You can do all your own managing? You won’t let this…young man influence you, will you?” Frances asks before she leaves.

“Of course not. It’s like you don’t even know me, Fran. I’ll be careful, ma’am. Always am,” you respond, glancing around at the posters on the wall.

“Good luck! Exciting!” Frances gives you two thumbs up before she blows out the back door.

As it shuts behind her, it takes the sunlight with it. You suddenly feel very immersed in the surroundings of the studio. You lazily make your way down the hallway, taking your time to examine all the posters, records, and newspaper clippings on hallway walls.

“Now you wouldn’t be Miss Y/N, would ya?”

A voice from behind you startles you just as you are about to reach for the handle to the studio. The voice is deep and raspy, but there's a strong country twang. No doubt about that. You turn with a big smile, thinking you already know who he might be. You've heard he's handsome, but you are wholly unprepared. His dark black hair shines in the dim lights of the studio, and he stands with his hands shoved into his pockets. His clothes are like nothing you have ever seen before, but they look like they're made specifically for him. He's magnetic, and you find yourself caught in his tractor beam.

“Mr. Presley is it?” you ask, already approaching with a hand outstretched. “It’s mighty nice to meetcha. I’m really lookin forward to recordin together.”

He takes your hand with a smile.

“It should be a real treat,” he responds, looking you up and down.

“Well should we go in now, d’you think? I ain’t never recorded in a studio as nice as this one,” you say with a nervous chuckle.

He reaches around you and clicks open the handle to the recording room.

“After you, darlin,” he says with a crooked smile.

You smirk and wink, making sure to bend your waist as you duck underneath his arm. You feel his eyes on you as your hips swivel with your movements. You're shocked when you enter to find no one there.

“No producers?” you ask, dropping your hands on your hips. “How in Jesus’ name are we gonna record anything?”

“Must be late,” he replies, removing his jacket and then half-leaning and half-sitting on the table in the back of the room.

Your eyes immediately travel from his face down to his chest, where his shirt is only being held together but one singular button. It's a black shirt, a good color for him. Actually, a perfect color for him.

“Well what do you usually do when they’re late?” you ask. His cocky attitude and arrogance are starting to get on your nerves. You remember what Frances told you and clear your throat just as he's about to answer you.

“Actually, let’s hear it,” you say, gesturing toward yourself with your hands.

“Hear what…exactly,” he ask, running his tongue over his lips.

“Your voice. I wanna hear you sing. So let’s go, Mr. Presley. Show me whatcha got.”

He scoffs and smirks before pushing himself up to come stand in front of you.

“Well, since my baby left me, well, I found a new place to dwell. Well, it’s down at the end of Lonely street at Heartbreak Hotel,” he sings to you.

Your arms fall limp at your waist. The way he uses his voice is like nothing you’ve ever heard. It's sensual, intimate, and manly all at the same time. It's like liquid chocolate, and you desperately want to hear more. But you put on your big girl pants and shrug.

“Well, you can hold a note, at least,” you reply, examining your fingernails.

“Aright then, your turn,” he says, and now he's the one to cross his arms over his chest. “Go on, sugar.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to sing.

“I go out walkin’ after midnight out in the moonlight, just like we used to do. I’m always walkin’ after midnight, searchin’ for you.”

Your voice rings out smooth, clear, and true. You raise an eyebrow as if to challenge Elvis. He nods.

“Patsy Cline. Good choice,” Elvis says.

“Thank you. I love her voice. It reminds me of my mama,” you reply. “Who sang yours?”

Elvis laughs out loud and slides into a chair next to you.

“I did.”

“Oh, I see. Well…I guess we’re both pretty alright then,” you pull up another chair and straddle it. His eyebrows just barely shoot up. It isn't very ladylike to straddle a chair like you're doing. You smile to yourself. You pride yourself on shocking people, especially when it comes to social expectations.

“What d’you have mind for us to sing together?”

“I was thinkin something slow, classic, intimate,” he says. “Somethin like ‘Who Knows Why’ by Mickey and Sylvia, you know that song?”

“Oh, yes! I’d just love that. That’s my favorite typa music,” you respond, leaning toward him. “Should we start with that ‘un? Jus to see how we harmonize?”

“Fine by me. Let me grab this ol guitar over here,” Elvis says, grabbing an acoustic guitar from the corner of the room.

He sits on a stool, propping up his knee to hold the guitar, and starts to strum a few chords. You find your body intuitively moving to the soft beat of the song. Elvis sings first to give you a baseline. You're surprised again, that such a low melodious voice comes out of such a angelic-looking man.

“Who knows why I dream of you each night. In my dreams, I dream I hold you tight.”

You join in, having a good feel for how you might harmonize.

“Tell me, darling, who knows why. Who knows why? Who knows why stars are in my eyes. Tell me darling, don’t you be realize? You know it’s true. You made me fall in love with you. You-who-who-ooh…”

“Maybe a bit lower? I think I could go lower,” you say, and he nods.

“You drive me out of my mind, thinking of you each day. There must be a reason for all of this strange feeling. So what more can I say?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he mumbles. “That’s the sweet spot, darlin.”

You feel heat creep onto your cheeks a little but try to keep your voice strong.

“Who knows why I keep hearing your name? You are the one, the only one, that I can blame. You know it’s true. You made me fall in love with you. You-who-who-ooh. You drive me out of my mind, thinking of you each day. There must be a reason for all of this strange feeling. So what more can I say? Who knows why I keep hearing your name? You are the one, the only one, that I can blame. You know it’s true. You made me fall in love with you. You-who-ooh-ooh…”

You both finish strong, holding out the note together. You haven't realized it, but while you’ve been singing, you’ve migrated to share half of the tiny stool. You're sitting shoulder to shoulder, your faces dangerously close. Neither of you says anything for a moment, both waiting with bated breath to see what the other would say.

“I like your voice,” he says. “I like it a lot.”

You waste no time, leaning over the stool to kiss him strongly. Because of the way you're positioned, it's a sloppy, wet kiss. But it is also passionate and fierce. You feel him move to prop the guitar on the leg of the stool. He kisses you back immediately, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek. He brushes his thumb against your jaw, and you shudder under his touch. As you shift to try and reach him better, your leg slips off the stool and you start to fall back. You yelp, but it's cut short when Elvis’ arm – yeah, just one – catches you. You are heaving what with the kissing and the near-death experience.

“Y’aright?” he asks, also breathless. You nod, and he pulls you back up onto the stool. Once you're upright, his hands rest on your hips and he stands between your legs.

“Thanks for catchin’ me,” you say, blushing again.

“Anytime, baby. I really do love your voice. It reminds me of my mama,” he replies.

You're embarrassed by the butterflies in your stomach. They're driving you crazy, and you feel like you're melting under his magnetic gaze. Just as you are about to lean in again, a booming voice interrupts you.

“Uh…Mr. Presley, Miss Y/L/N…did you still want to record today, or…?”

You cover your face with your hands and laugh.

“Yeah, we were just gettin to know each other,” Elvis responds. “You ready to rock?”

“I'm ready.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Song Recs:

Heartbreak Hotel -> Elvis (obviously lol)

Walkin' After Midnight -> Patsy Cline

Who Knows Why -> Mickey & Sylvie

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**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter - Monday, January 9

CORDELIA: Time out, Xander. Put yourself in Buffy's shoes for just a minute. Okay? I'm Buffy, freak of nature, right? Naturally I pick a freak for a boyfriend, and then he turns into Mr. kill Spree, which is pretty much my fault-- BUFFY: (interrupts) Cordy! Get outta my shoes!

~~Dead Man's Party~~

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Favor Chapter 11 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by EllieRose101

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I’ve often been wondering lately if part of the reason for Angelus’ name change from Angelus to Angel when he goes from evil to good is partly inspired by the Bible by oveliagirlhaditright

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[hxnmantii]

First time kisses ft Sero, Kirishima, and Izuku

Tw: fluff (none)

Pairings: Sero, Izuku, Kiri x gn!reader

Ratings: PG-13

A/n: I couldn’t figure out if this was Pg or Pg-13 since it’s just a little smooch smooch but better to be safe. This all started cuz I just felt like Kiri would put his hand on your face when he kisses you. That is all. I hope you enjoy!!

Kirishima

Kiri's is something out of a movie

No quite literally

It was you guys monthly movie night where you make time out of you guys busy schedules to snack, cuddle, and watch some cringey old time movie because they're Kiri's favorite

In the movie, he sees one of his favorite manly character kiss the love interest softly with so much passion

Instantly, he's determined on doing that to you

But he doesn't know when to do it so throughout the whole movie, he's sneaking glances your way, trying to find the perfect moment to do so

Without realizing it, the movie finally comes to an end and he's panicking and slightly upset with himself because he didn't man up and do it

You're unaware of the mental struggle he's going through right now so you stretch and get up,bidding him a "goodnight"

It was now or never he realizes as his hand shoots up to grab your wrist

"Y/n wait"

He's gently pulls you down back by his side

Any questions that you may have had disappear as he places his hand on your cheek, softly stroking the soft flesh.

He's not even looking at your eyes anymore, all of his attention being on your soft lips.

He leans forward only to stop half way to your lips

"Can I kiss you?"

The slight nod is only he needs before closing the distance between you guys, softly smashing your lips together

And when you guys break for air, he's leaning his forehead against yours, a huge cheesy smile on his lips

Izuku

Izuku would try to kiss you after a date

Because iida had told him that's the proper way to end a good date: with a goodnight kiss.

Of course he freaked out a little bit because this would be the fourth date he's gone with you and he's never even thought about trying to kiss you afterwards

So now he's walking you back to your side of the dorm

He's got your purse on on his shoulder and his hand in yours, lightly swinging it back and forth as you guys chit chat about the most recent things that have happened—he’s stutter free and relaxed

The goodnight being complete forgotten...till he walked you to the door

Now he’s overthinking everything, his face is a bright red and he's stuttering out simple phrases

Which is a bit concerning to you because he was okay a few seconds and he can't even say goodnight now??

But you squeeze his hand and give him a reassuring smile and with that he relaxes a little

He takes a deep breath in before puckering his lips out similar to a duck, his arms flushed at his sides and his eyes tightly closed.

He honestly looks kinda silly but don’t laugh at him, he’s trying his best

You have to take the lead with one

Guide him as you kiss him

Grab his arms and wrap them around your waist

Put your hand in his kitchen and give him soothing scratches

The more he relaxes, the easier it is for him to understand the technique behind it.

After you break apart, he’s got this kiss drunk, lovey dovey grin on his face follow by literal heart eyes

“Bye ‘Zuku”

“B-bye”

He’s waving his hand too, his face as red as a tomato with his hopes high for another goodnight kiss

Sero

Sero’s real smooth with it

He would do it after finally accomplishing something big like his first internship with a hero he’s been admiring for a minute now

It would start with you guys quietly walking around a park just enjoying each others company, the sunset lighting your face up when he brings it up

You're ecstatic! That's a huge accomplishment and he definetly deserves it but he only responds with a

"Of course they couldn't resist my devilishly handsome smile."

But that little phrase was to cover how nervous he actually was, clenching and unclenching his hands behind his back

You roll your eyes and continue praising him for the achievement

The walking slows to a stop as he determines his next move which leads to you pausing mid-praise to question him

He knows if he hears the question he's going to lose the nerve to do it so before you can even ask, he's wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his body and smashing his lips against yours

It felt like fireworks going off when your lips connected it

He's smiling into the kiss and going as far as slightly dipping you

Afterwards, he's kissing your forehead while rocking you guys back and forth

"I've been wanting to do that for a while now"

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