#...using a glittery pink pen

[pinkacademiaprincess]

this semester: beauty & brains 🎀🧠✏️

things i'm looking forward to:

❥ sitting in the front row of every class

❥ previewing the lectures so i know the content ahead of class

❥ being the classmate everyone wants to sit by b/c i know everything

❥ raising my hand & participating constantly

❥ being the teacher's pet & visiting them during office hours

❥ getting dolled up for class every day

❥ having a different shade of pink folder for each class

❥ stocking up on glittery pencils & pens

❥ using a cute pencil pouch

❥ packing snacks & my 32 oz water bottle daily

❥ studying in the library & distracting boys with my presence

❥ being the classmate everyone hopes they get paired up with for projects & assignments

❥ getting asked to tutor people & to join everyone's study groups

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Ethan is trying to do work and the reader distracts him which turns into more. Just Ethan being flustered and trying to focus while reader teases him. 🤗

I've done a version of this with Mindy

Warnings: nudity, teasing

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Did you see my green highlighter?’’

‘’No. I have a blue one, here.’’ You fished it from your pencil case, but Ethan didn’t take it.

‘’I can’t use blue.’’

‘’I have pink, yellow and orange if you prefer—’’

‘’No. That’s not what I meant. I have a color code. Green is for the things I understand, blue is for what I don’t understand and the glittery gel pen is for underlining things that I think are gonna be in the exams.’’

Fondness filled your stomach. He was so precious and nerdy at the same time. You reached across the bed to grab the collar of Ethan's henley and kissed him sweetly.

‘’Eh…what was that for?’’ Ethan asked, a little dumbfounded. ‘’I love your kisses, it’s just that we really need to study—’’

‘’You are such a nerd.’’ You kissed him again, lingering your lips on his. ‘’But I love you.’’

Ethan’s cheeks flushed the cutest shade of pink. ‘’I love you too.’’

You went back to studying, reading pages of textbooks until your eyes burned. Why was there so much to read in econ? Maybe you should switch majors?

‘’Have you read the chapter about taxation?’’ Ethan asked, a pen in one hand and a highlighter in the other. ‘’My mind is literally going to explode from the amount of information.’’ His eyes were fixated on his textbook, concentrated on what he was reading.

A breath of air left your lips. ‘’I have not. Sorry.’’ You ran a hand through your hair, flicking through pages with your other. ‘’I’m like…two chapters behind.’’

Ethan snapped his head up. ‘’Two?! What have you been doing all this time? Mrs. Coleman is gonna question us about these chapters next lesson.’’

He was right, but you had been studying for over three hours and nothing was sticking to your brain anymore. Your learning batteries were full for today. Maybe you’ll bring your textbook to your shift at the campus library tomorrow. Thursday afternoons are always quiet.

Before you, Ethan had returned to his reading, pen cap between his teeth while he was underlining long paragraphs. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so serious during study dates. School was important, but it doesn’t mean you can’t take a few makeout breaks.

You tried getting back to reading, but the words were not sticking. So you threw a paperclip at Ethan. It hit his chest and you grinned amusedly.

‘’Hey! Stop throwing shit at me,’’ he scolded, throwing it back at you.

‘’Let’s take a break.’’

Ethan shook his head. ‘’Can’t. I have another chapter to read and then I’m meeting with a study group.’’ He checked the time on his phone, making sure he wouldn’t be late.

A study group? You thought you were going out for late dinner at the café right outside campus. They have this new breakfast all day menu and you couldn’t wait to have waffles for dinner.

You pouted in disappointment. Guess there won’t be any waffles tonight…

‘’Can we at least cuddle before you go?’’ you asked, impatient to wrap your whole body around Ethan like a koala and kiss his face while he holds you back with his strong arms.

Your question was left pending and you were tempted to chuck a pillow at the curly haired nerd before you — but you didn’t. Instead, you took advantage of focused attention and removed your shirt and bra without him noticing. You felt a shiver up your spine when the cool air of Ethan's dorm hit your warm skin, causing your nipples to peak.

Ethan was addicted to your tits. Maybe he’ll put down his textbooks for a few minutes.

‘’This part is really important. Do you think we should make flashca—’’ Ethan cut himself and you heard him make a little noise, his bambi eyes falling on your breasts exposed right before him. The pen he was holding fell from his grasp and you smirked.

You felt the weight of Ethan’s eyes on you, all the information he just read suddenly swept away. ‘’What is it you were saying?’’ You let your hand crawl up his jeans-covered thighs and a swallow bobbed its way over his adam's apple when you almost reached his crotch. ‘’Cat’s got your tongue, love?’’

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but your hand was getting higher and higher. A whimper slipped from his lip when you reached your desired spot, feeling him growing stiff beneath your palm. It’s so good to tease him.

He reached for your breasts, his palms enclosed over them, kneading into them as his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.

You sighed in pleasure, grazing your fingers along Ethan’s jaw. ‘’How many chapter do you have left again?’�� 

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana

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[b14augrana]

Nenita

You plan a surprise for Irene’s birthday

Irene Paredes x teen!reader

Part of the Scrubber universe

masterlist

Warnings: pure fluff, no warnings needed!

A/N: in honour of irene’s birthday, i decided to write a little fic. there will be a new section in the scrubber masterlist for all the blurbs about cute moments with scrubber and the girls! i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

Your calendar was very significant. You marked off your birthday, upcoming matches, Christmas, but most importantly… all your big sisters’ birthdays. Each of their birthdays were marked on your calendar in pink glittery gel pen.

You were giddy the night before their birthdays, probably even more excited than they were. Tonight, it was Irene’s big day that you were looking forward to as you laid on your bed stomach-first, filling in a card you made yourself.

Birthdays were a big deal for you because it was probably the most appropriate time to tell someone just how much you loved them.

Your captain was a very special woman. She was your second mother, mentor, and friend, all in one. Everyone needed an Irene in their life, but unfortunately there was just one, and not-so-unfortunately, she ended up with you and your team.

Those were the words you wrote on her card before sealing it in the envelope. With a smile, you placed it on top of the neatly wrapped gift stashed in your closet… that was piled on top of what looked like a dozen more.

The morning of the 4th of July, you were up before Irene. Carefully and quietly, without hitting the walls with your tower of gifts, you walked out of your bedroom with them and placed them on the coffee table. You placed your card in front of them and scrambled to the fridge to pull out the cake you made for her.

You weren’t a professional baker, but you knew how to make simple things like a cake. Irene loved red velvet cake, so when you stacked it all together with a homemade cream cheese frosting you had worked all week on (almost) perfecting, the end product was a birthday cake. You decorated it with the help of Fridolina, using sprinkles and cake toppers she had chosen, then two big ‘3’ candles right in the middle.

You were proud of your cake, even if it wasn’t the best. You figured that it would be nice to test out your baking skills instead of buying a red velvet cake that already cost you an arm and a leg without extra decorations.

Your culinary creations didn’t stop there. Next on the menu was french toast that you dusted with powdered sugar, drizzled with maple syrup, and garnished with strawberries and blueberries. It made you feel like a proper chef, and once you finished constructing your meal, you looked at it in pride. It almost looked good enough to go in your stomach.

“Irene,” you whispered, nudging her bedroom door open as you carried her breakfast and a cup of coffee into her room, on a tray. Your grin was hardly containable.

She rolled over, looking at you through squinted eyes. Her expression brightened and her eyes widened when she realised what was happening, and she sat up while a smile flashed across her face.

“Meu nenita, moltes gràcies,” she replied, her smile widening as you placed the tray on her lap and put the coffee on her bedside table.

“After you eat, come to the living room. I have to give you something!” you chimed, skipping out of the room and leaving the woman to eat her food.

When she emerged out of her room, you were standing in front of your gift tower with your arms behind your back and a beaming smile on your face. You moved to the side, gesturing to your gifts. “Surprise! Feliz cumple, hermana!”

Irene gasped quietly, placing a hand on her chest as she looked at you in surprise. Before even paying another thought to her gifts, she pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing you gently. “Nenita, you didn’t have to. How did you get all of this– no, how did you hide all of this?”

“I can’t tell you that,” you responded, “I’ll have to do it again next year. Open the card!”

You picked up the envelope and handed it to her, almost bouncing off the walls in excitement. She tore it open carefully and pulled out the card, taking a minute to read it before lowering it and looking at you with glossy eyes.

‘Dear Irene,

From the very first day I played with you in Barça, I’ve seen you as a second mother to me, away from my home. Not only do you take care of me and let me live under your roof, but you inspire me and teach me to be better than what I am capable of, on and off the pitch. I am lucky to spend my days with you; a beautiful, loving, and talented person. Being under your guidance and having you by my side during every game has made me the player I am today and I will always be grateful for having you in my life now, and hopefully forever.

Feliz cumpleaños, hermana! T'estimo per sempre.’

You were the one to initiate the hug as you wrapped your arms around her. She was quick to react and do the same, embracing you affectionately. “T’estimo, meu hermanita,” she mumbled.

Once you had pulled away, your grin hadn’t faltered one bit. “When all of the girls get here, we can have cake!”

“What do you mean, all of the girls?” Irene questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Y’know, all the girls. Alexia, Mapi, Frido, Ingrid– who else.. oh, Caro, Marta, Aitana, Lucy and Ona,” you answered, “Now go on, go get ready. The icing is going to start melting!”

[minminbunny]

Stalker X Stalker AU - Posessive Coworker! Yang Jeongin/Naive Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Innie!" you giggled, wrapping your arms around him. Jeongin gave you a nonchalant pat on the back, even though his heart was racing within his chest. You beamed, "Guess what? I made candy over the weekend, would you like some?" you asked, biting your bottom lip. Jeongin nodded, "Sure," he said, internally waiting until you got to him when he saw you give out candy bags to the others. 

"Yay, here!" you said, giving him a full bag than the tiny packets you were giving out. Jeongin didn't realise the difference when he took it, the packaging was the same, sure it was a bit full but the others must have gotten the same. You gave him a big squeeze, "I'll head back to work. See you later," you beamed, skipping away from him with a contagious smile. 

Jeongin sighed, holding his chest, "Fuck, what am I going to do with them," he grumbled, hiding his face within his cubicle. You swayed your feet, drawing pretty hearts around his picture. You looked to your cubicle neighbor, "Hey, do you think Innie will ever like me?" you asked, hoping for support. "Well, he's the type to hate everyone. You might need to try a different approach," they said, ruffling your hair. 

You sulked, nodding your head, "You're right I'll think of something," you said, drawing out a little plan. Jeongin felt his eyes twitch when the coworker ruffled your hair, the pen broke in his hand as he tried not to lash out. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, 'One day, I'll secure a damn collar around your neck' he thought, imagining his name etched on your pendent before he walked away. 

You gulped, standing in front of a old tarot shop, "Hello?" you asked, walking in. An old lady sat with her crystal ball, "Hello, deary. I heard you're looking for a love potion," she said, rubbing the crystal ball. You gasped, "How did you know?" you asked, naive enough to believe in such fabbles. 

The old lady chuckled, "I see and know all, darling. Now, this is the potion you seek. You must be the first one he sees after drinking it. Don't use more than half, or else he might turn into a feral beast," she warned, knowing the viagra content in the vial is quite high. You nodded your head, "No more than half, understood," you said, waiting for the price. 

The old lady smirked, "A vial like this is priceless, I'll charge you a discounted price," she said, giving you the number. You sulked when it was half your paycheck but for Jeongin you'd do anything, "Thank you," you said, leaving the shop. Jeongin stood behind the old lady, "Quite the scam you've built here," he said, twirling his knife. The old lady froze, "Wouldn't you like you future read, young man?" she asked, trying to avoid her fate.

Jeongin pursed his lips, "No, I can't let people like you take advantage of my little doll," he said, holding the knife across the old lady's throat. "Wait, wouldn't you like to know what they purchased?" she asked, hoping that would stall him. Jeongin tilted his head, "I could care less. They can buy whatever they want. I'm a gentleman to their purchase privacy," he said, slitting the old lady's throat before she could defend herself. 

Jeongin took your money and reported the crime anonymously to the police, he burned his clothes and vacuumed the floor. He then burned the contents of the vacuum and fled the scene. Jeongin sighed and slid your paycheck into your mailbox, "Seriously, a leash is needed," he grumbled, glaring at your room window.

You wore your prettiest outfit, and held your basket of cookies. After making all the normal cookies, you began to bake Jeongin's batch, you did as told pouring half when you suddenly flinched at a loud crackle of thunder. "Shit," you whispered, seeing the empty vial in your hand. You looked outside and saw no rain, "Stupid thunder," you whined, staring at the pink glittery liquid in the middle of your dry ingredients. 

You sighed before smirking, "I wouldn't mind seeing Innie as a feral beast. Maybe he'd turn into a werewolf and a have a big girthy cock," you giggled, stirring the ingredients together. You bit your bottom lip, hiding the special stash within your pocket while you looked for him. Jeongin sat by his cubicle, hoping that the money he placed in your mailbox didn't get stolen. 

You beamed when you saw him, "Innie, Innie. I made cookies, want some?" you asked, handing him his special batch. Jeongin gave you a subtle smile, and opened the bag, "Thank you," he said, taking a bite. The cookies were soft with a crunchy edge. Jeongin tasted a hint of chemicals but brushed it aside, thinking it's probably the glitter you used, "It's really good," he praised, biting into another cookie. 

You smiled, your eyes turned into crescents from smiling so hard, "Thank you, Innie," you said, waiting for the potion to kick in. You gulped, needing to be the first one that Jeongin sees. Jeongin furrowed his eyebrows, feeling his control slipping, "What?" he whispered, looking into your eyes for answers. "Is the love potion working?" you asked, seeing Jeongin hold his chest. 

Jeongin panted, feeling his cock throb under his slack, "Love potion?" he asked, groaning from the sheer sensitivity his body was in. You gulped, looking at him with a guilt and scared expression. Jeongin clenched his jaw, "Don't look at me like that; like you're afraid of me," he growled, gripping your wrist. You sniffled, tears ruining your mascara, "Are you mad?" you asked, hiccuping under his feral gaze. 

Jeongin buried his face into your tummy, "Everyone else left for lunch right?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. You nodded your head, guilt filling you up, "Today's the one hour break," you sniffled,  lips wobbling at the thought of upsetting Jeongin. "Good, good. One hour should be enough," he groaned, lifting you up.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"Too fast!" You sobbed, clawing the desk for any form of leverage. Jeongin groaned, pounding your little cunt with a brutal pace. His hands bruising your precious skin as he fucked you in the meeting room. Your body laid pliant, taking as much as his rough thrusts as possible. He already came twice and he was still hot and throbbing within your cunt. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you hiccuped, covering your mouth to muffle your moans. 

Jeongin clenched his jaw and held your throat, "Let me hear you cry, darling. I wanted to take it slow with you but just had to be So. Fucking. Naive," he growled, thrusting harder with every word he grits. You sobbed under his thrusts, you cunt spasming from the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Jeongin pushed his hair back and rolled his hips, "Look at you, doll. So messy, so dirty with cum," he chuckled, eyeing your makeup stained face and semen stained outfit. 

You sniffled, clenching around his cock, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whimpered, wiping your tears. Jeongin kissed your palm, "You just couldn't help yourself, doll. You're so easy to influence," he grunted, thrusting his hips. You stared at him through your tears brimmed eyes, "Just wanted Innie to love me," you sobbed, heart squeezing at the confession. 

Jeongin held you close, his hips keeping their relentless pace, "Darling, I loved you from the beginning. Never once have I not love you," he rasped, nipping your ear. You sniffled, "Really?" you asked, pushing back with his thrusts. Jeongin chuckled, nosing your cheek, "Really, really," he said, kissing you softly. Your mind melted, his kisses contradicting his desperate thrusts. 

You arched your back, chest pressing against his as you creamed around his shaft. Jeongin hissed at the searing warmth coating his cock and came deep within your body. You gave him a few soft pecks, "Hehe," you giggled, nuzzling his shoulder. Jeongin raised an eyebrow, "What are you giggling for?" he asked, kissing your forehead. You hugged him close, "I'm just happy you're mine," you whispered, catching your breath. Jeongin chuckled, "Me too, doll. Now let's clean up as fast as we can before they come back from break, hm?" he said, kissing your nose.

AMAB

"Too fast!" You sobbed, clawing the desk for any form of leverage. Jeongin groaned, pounding your little rim with a brutal pace. His hands bruising your precious skin as he fucked you in the meeting room. Your body laid pliant, taking as much as his rough thrusts as possible. He already came twice and he was still hot and throbbing within your hole. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you hiccuped, covering your mouth to muffle your moans. 

Jeongin clenched his jaw and held your throat, "Let me hear you cry, darling. I wanted to take it slow with you but just had to be So. Fucking. Naive," he growled, thrusting harder with every word he grits. You sobbed under his thrusts, you hole spasming from the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Jeongin pushed his hair back and rolled his hips, "Look at you, doll. So messy, so dirty with cum," he chuckled, eyeing your makeup stained face and semen stained outfit. 

You sniffled, clenching around his cock, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whimpered, wiping your tears. Jeongin kissed your palm, "You just couldn't help yourself, doll. You're so easy to influence," he grunted, thrusting his hips. You stared at him through your tears brimmed eyes, "Just wanted Innie to love me," you sobbed, heart squeezing at the confession. 

Jeongin held you close, his hips keeping their relentless pace, "Darling, I loved you from the beginning. Never once have I not love you," he rasped, nipping your ear. You sniffled, "Really?" you asked, pushing back with his thrusts. Jeongin chuckled, nosing your cheek, "Really, really," he said, kissing you softly. Your mind melted, his kisses contradicting his desperate thrusts. 

You arched your back, chest pressing against his as you creamed between your torsos’. Jeongin hissed at the searing grip engulfing his cock and came deep within your body. You gave him a few soft pecks, "Hehe," you giggled, nuzzling his shoulder. Jeongin raised an eyebrow, "What are you giggling for?" he asked, kissing your forehead. You hugged him close, "I'm just happy you're mine," you whispered, catching your breath. Jeongin chuckled, "Me too, doll. Now let's clean up as fast as we can before they come back from break, hm?" he said, kissing your nose.

[lucysarah-c]

I would like you very much to talk about the girlfriend effect on Levi's fashion

The man has zero sense on it it's actually hurt

The way I squealed when I read this ask. I was like that TikTok sound of “OH MY GOODNESSI LOVE THIS QUESTION! I THINK..!”

*Deep sigh* Anon, you're absolutely right; it's time we face the truth about Levi's sense of style – it's hideous. Have you witnessed those panels of him in the Uprising arc with a T-shirt on top of a long-sleeve shirt? I mean, seriously, it's like, "You're lucky I adore you, Levi…"

Now, let's establish some basics. We can't delve into the "girlfriend effect" without first acknowledging Levi's life as a man. I hate to break it to many of us, but Levi is, indeed, a man – raised by Kenny, no less. Levi values cleanliness and practicality. To sum up Levi's approach to broad topics: cheap, pragmatic, and straightforward. The only exceptions to this rule are tea and cleaning. Levi grew up in poverty, so he won't waste a single penny on face cream, even if you harass him. As an example, there's a "game" that was only available, I believe, in Japan, that had side stories, and Levi literally told Erwin he wasted too much money on "pointless" stuff like hair pomade…

Levi doesn't buy much furniture, treats for his body, clothes – anything, really. I'd even venture to say he might get some of his clothes from donations. He saves his money for tea… and tea sets.

And here's where the girlfriend comes into the picture. It starts subtly; she spends a night in his personal chambers and suggests bringing in new pillows, curtains, furniture, scented candles, and bathroom appliances for her stuff. Then the full transformation happens.

Levi, pale as ever, refuses to wear sunscreen like any man would. “I'm trying to look after you!" she would insist while running her hand through his face; he's not pleased. He hates the sticky feeling, but it's just the beginning. He pretends to dislike it, but he falls asleep so easily when his face is on her legs, and she's giving him a face massage with a full face glam, mask, and gua sha.

"You have to use it like this, against the hair movement, to create volume so your hair doesn't stick to your scalp," she says, applying molding wax to his hair to give it more volume. Skincare routine? Check. Lip balms? Check. Hairstyles? Check. Personal chambers now looking comfy and homey? Double-check.

And finally, the clothes. He's against it at first, always in uniform, so why bother? But she explains how proportions and colors can make him look taller, and he's tempted to tell her he doesn't care. However, her puppy eyes beg him to wear what she chose.

The result? Levi, who once dressed like a pre-teen from the 2000s, transforms into a model. The LOOKS? He goes out with the vets for a few beers on a day off, and MPs are turning around; even Erwin is surprised. He's supposed to be the high maintenance of the group, not Levi! This transformation becomes the main giveaway that Levi is dating. Glowing skin, glass-like complexion, perfectly cut and smooth hair with ideal volume.

The cherry on top? Suddenly, he's taking days off, going out more, and knows a lot about which restaurants are "not that bad," all while dressing like a Vogue cover.

The only disadvantage? Now he has his pockets full of lip glosses, napkins, hand cream, etc. Women's clothes don't have pockets. How is he supposed to explain to the MPs when they ask for a pen, and he pulls out a pink, glittery lip gloss from his pocket? Not everything is an upside.

I ADORED this question! I hope the answer is somehow what you had in mind! Thank you so so much for sending this.

I hope you and your loved ones are doing great today and stay safe!

Lots of love!

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @thoreeo @quillinhand @humanitys-strongest-bamf Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[mysteria157]

Moment Two: Your Daughter's First Pair

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity (not really), sexual suggestion, slight angst (very minimal).

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Nanami joins you and your daughter for a family tradition, but he may not be as strong as he thinks.

Set in the It Had To Be You universe but you don't need a lot of backstory to follow along.

Notes: This was a random thought that I had based on something that has always been a thing in my family that I wanted to write out. There is nothing significant about this, I have not written Nanami in a LONG time, so I'm trying to warm myself up again. I am so rusty but I'm using fleeting moments of inspiration and taking advantage of it.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

| Twitter | Ao3 | Masterlist | Moment One | Moment Three...Eventually

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

MINORS DNI

“You don’t need to hold her so tight.”

“I’m protecting her.”

“And what am I, a goat?”

He raises a brow at your jest, autumn wheat and elegant but nonetheless annoyed as he glares at you. He doesn’t mean it, you know that—it’s all nerves.

“Ken, we don’t have to do this you know? If you’re against the idea, we can wait a few more years.”

“I’m not against it,” he reassures you, adjusting your daughter in his arms. Ulani babbles up at him, her chubby hands digging into a sharply cut cheekbone. He carries on without complaint, already used to her behavior. “This is a tradition, and I understand it but…”

You turn a key chain in one hand, your thumb smoothing along the glittery face of a dog—or is it a cat? The rack is filled with key chains of different colors, animals and objects, bringing back memories of middle school when you would drag your best friend Omelia into this same store in Sendai before it closed down. Despite the many years that have passed, the store chain still has its subtle hues of purples and pinks, earrings punched through purple cardboard paper, pens with wonky erasers, and headbands of different designs.

“But what?” you try to finish for him, smiling up at his nervous form as he lets Ulani talk to him in her own baby language.

Kento pulls in a deep breath as if to steel his nerves and prepare for the inevitable. He’s praying to whoever will listen, trying to use every coping mechanism in the book. He’s wearing jeans that hug his fit thighs and a dark blue short sleeve that shows too much bicep for your liking (you should give him a dress code). There are only so many single and married women and men that you can glare at in a day, and the redhead over by the register is pushing it.

“Will it hurt her?” your boyfriend’s low timber pulls you back, filled with apprehension, and he keeps mahogany eyes on his daughter to avoid showing you just how scared he is. You rub his back to soothe him, tracing the bands of muscle that are tense behind the soft fabric.

“I-I’m worried.”

“And you shouldn’t be. It’s a simple thing, lasts two seconds. Just like when she got her first shots.”

That’s not enough for him, because now Kento furrows his eyebrows in frustration, bouncing his daughter in his arms to entertain her and also soothe himself. “There are a lot of things to consider. The risk of infection. Rejection. What if she hates them? What if they get caught on her clothes? Or her curls? Or—”

“Are we ready?” one of the employee’s sing songs from behind you both, walking towards the singular chair perched against the glass wall of the store.

“I—” Kento croaks, clearing his throat and swallowing loudly. He looks down at you. “Are we?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve only seen Kento visibly nervous a handful of times. That stoic demeanor is a smooth, stone-like shell to everyone else besides family and close friends, but you know the weak spots and have glimpsed into the fragmented sections only visible to your eyes. Right now, he’s nervous and fearful beyond belief. That all encompassing love and attention that he shows you from sunup to sundown extends to his daughter as well. If there is one person besides you, who can make Nanami Kento show his emotions freely and without reservation no matter the date, place, or time, it’s Ulani.

“How about you hold her?” you suggest and give him a small push towards the black chair. Two employees work at the small kiosk next to him, unwrapping sterile materials and cotton swabs. Kento’s eyes watch every movement, searching for any sign of threat that can give him the ammunition to take his daughter and never come back. You can practically hear his thoughts:

“Is that up to code?”

“How long has that been sealed?”

“What is the name of the manufacturer so that I can ensure it’s reputable?”

Your roll your own eyes, knowing how right you might be.

When you found out your pediatrician would be on her own maternity leave, you let Kento research every establishment in Tokyo until he found one in Shibuya. Reputable, good reviews, and well-practiced in this procedure.

Of course, you’re nervous too. She’s your daughter, a combination of you and Kento, conceived from a very drunken night of disdain but grown out of eventual love and adoration. The thought of her crying in pain makes that maternal part of you flare with anger and the consuming need to protect her forever. But you’ve prepared for this for awhile.

Kento? Not so much.

“Is that clean?” your boyfriend asks one of the employees, clutching his daughter a little tighter. It’s a little rude, but the employee smiles at him in a way that conveys understanding of his trepidation. This isn’t their first rodeo.

“Completely sterile from the package. I promise she’s in great hands.” Deep eyes free of steampunk-esque glasses flicker up at her in doubt, but he simply sniffs and looks back to his daughter instead to withhold a scathing remark. “How about one of us on each side, and we do it at once?” she suggests, addressing him directly. It helps, as he gives her a somber but curt nod.

He situates Ulani in his arms so she’s sitting fully on his lap, his large hands holding her up with a slight tremble. The sight is enough to remind you again that this is new territory for him. What has always been a normal tradition for you and the other females in your life, is a foreign concept for him.

Ear piercings are a milestone in a young girl’s life. You got yours as a baby, and so did your mother. Omelia got hers as a baby, as did all her female cousins, as did her mother and the mother before her. If you interacted with your mother’s side of the family, then maybe you would know if your cousins also did the same.

But that’s another thought for another time, and you refuse to let painful memories tarnish what should be a memory you are crafting on your own, right now.

You step closer and run your hands through thick blond locks that are free of gel. You brush the strands from his forehead, letting the soft texture slip past your fingertips as he relaxes instantly. With his place in his chair, he’s at the perfect height to rest his head on your stomach, and he does so a second later.

One of his hands brushes light brown curls from his daughters ears. You can feel the unease radiating from him with every deep breath he takes, and you scratch that spot at his nape that makes him shudder, hoping it will help.

The muscles in Kento’s neck bunch together instead when one of the employee’s leans toward Ulani to make marks in deep purple, and even your own stomach turns in response at what’s to come. 

“Okay, we will do this on three. How’s that sound honey?” one of the employees coos at your daughter. Ulani, who is a carbon copy of her father, stares up at her, observant and sinking into her daddy before offering a gummy smile. “She’s so pretty.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kento corrects, slightly rough but still appreciative of the compliment. “Aren’t you, my dove?”

He tickles her side and offers a rare chuckle as she squeals up at him, wiggling in her father’s embrace. The sight makes your heart do flips because this is your world, day in and day out. Just you, Kento, and the person you’ve created together.

You step around to squat in front of him so you’re eye level with your daughter, a hand coming up to wiggle the toes covered in a tan sock. Her eyes catch you immediately, and she holds your gaze long enough for the two employees to position themselves on each side of her. 

Kento holds his breath.

“Alright, here we go. One. Two. Three.”

They both move in sync, pressing down on the plastic gun so the studs slide through the soft lobe of Ulani’s lower ears. Kento’s eyebrows furl together immediately. Ulani’s eyes widen for a second before her face contorts, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Your heart hammers and your chest tightens in an sudden flood of sadness and desperation that crashes against you like a tumultuous wave when Ulani takes one heaving breath in….

And screams.

His reaction is quick. Kento bounces one leg at a tempo that alarms you, his handsome face flying through different stages of grief, anger, and pain as he watches the employees adjust the diamond earrings to ensure they heal without complication. His mouth opens and closes, jaw grinding to keep his rudeness in check, because you know what he wants to say.

He was the same way when she got her shots; all glares and sharp stares at everyone else because they were the source of her discomfort. But like that time before, you are the cooling balm for his hot anger as you wiggle your daughters toes and murmur soothing words at her, to show him that she’s going to be just fine.

“It’s okay, baby,” you smile softly and it’s enough to capture her attention even though she’s squealing and crying from the sharp but quick pain in her ears. But all too quickly, you’re not enough for her, because the daughter that you carried for almost ten months turns away and reaches for her father, crying loudly in his arms. It’s a sting that you prepared for, but nonetheless hurts with a severity that takes a few seconds for you to recover from.

By the time you pay one of the employees and exit the store, Ulani has already calmed down. Kento digs into the diaper bag on his shoulder and pulls out a cotton cloth, wiping her nose as she sniffles and whines into his shoulder.

“I know honey, I know,” he coos to her, wiping the tears from her light brown skin and swaying back and forth. “But you were so strong, weren’t you? Hmm? A lot stronger than me.”

He pulls her away from his neck, smiling softly at her, and that one smile makes your chest bloom with satisfaction. It’s times like these that remind you how your life has surprisingly fallen into place. Who would have thought that the man who used to drive you insane would be the only one fit for you? 

That small twinge of hurt you felt minutes ago when Ulani turned away from you resurfaces, but reassurance cools it’s prickly edges. Even though this is a moment you may have been more connected with, it’s Kento who feels the painful side of it a lot more.

So you give him his own moment. You watch quietly as he kisses her chubby cheeks repeatedly, smiling into her skin at the giggles that leave her. You fall into the hum of the world around you as you watch him tuck away the cotton cloth and smooth the curls away from Ulani’s ears, finally admiring the diamonds that twinkle on each side. The lobes will be red for a few days, but for Ulani, she will never think of them again until she’s old enough to pay attention. Until she’s old enough to change them out to match the outfits she decides to wear, different colors and gemstones, and multiples if she ever has a streak of expression in her teenage years. Like you did.

Kento finally looks down at you, chestnut browns sparkling as he takes you in from head to toe. The harsh Shibuya sun beats down on bustling city square, but the rays are soft when they touch him. Tan skin is illuminated gold on his cheekbones, his hair luminous in the sun. You reach up to run a hand through his locks for the second time this afternoon, your heart still not used to the incessant hammering that arises when he leans into your touch.

You lift an accusatory eyebrow at him and hold back a chuckle when you speak. “Our daughter was the soldier this afternoon, and yet I’m coddling you?”

“Keep coddling,” he demands, voice tinged with mirth as he turns to place a kiss inside of your palm and then leans back into your stroking. “Today was very painful for me, have you no shame?” 

You snort and dig your nails into his scalp in retaliation, enjoying the groan that rumbles in the air from your ministrations. “Don’t blame this one moment on your entire day. You had a great run, remember?”

“My slowest three mile run yet.” Quick on the draw, and you already know where this is going. Kento rarely complains, but when he does, it is about the most trivial things as a means to get and keep your attention.

“You made me pancakes this morning.”

“Not my best work. Too much cinnamon in the batter.”

“We made out two hours ago?”

“Ulani woke from her nap and interrupted what would have been a very enjoyable afternoon.” That complaint leaves his mouth in a grumble, and you purse your lips to hold off the laughter that sits in the back of your throat. He’s truly pouting, and god do you love him.

“And now seeing your daughter cry from her first ear piercing was icing on the cake of a bad day, I imagine?”

“Exactly.”

You finally giggle and playfully pull a strand of his hair. He narrows his eyes at you, mischievous yet still carrying that ingrained indifference that you know and love. Ulani shrieks in his arms, finally past her blip of crying and now ready for her parent’s attention. You take in her drool of a smile, slightly red ears, and brown onesie-dress, and the possibilities flood your mind. It’s…very overwhelming when the thoughts hit you: how she will grow into herself, develop her personality, her wants and desires, her hobbies and her dreams. 

“Pay attention to me,” he interrupts your thoughts, and you can’t help the bark of laughter that you give him in response. Ulani mimics you, completely oblivious.

“You’re such a baby, and we have a baby,” you tease, snorting at his level expression and dusty cheeks, slightly shy but absorbing your presence. “You and Ulani have had it rough today. So how about a reward?” You look to your daughter when you ask, knowing damn well she has no idea what you’re saying but you want to include her anyway.

“How about frozen yogurt?” I.e., the unsweetened applesauce in the diaper bag for Ulani and matcha-flavored frozen yogurt for Kento from a favorite vendor a few blocks away. It’s an obsession of his that’s been appearing in the freezer with numbing regularity.

Kento remains unphased by your suggestion, though his lips twitch with the desire to smirk down at you.

“Seeing our daughter in pain was more heartbreaking than I thought. Food may not help, I’m afraid.”

Kento is milking his “pain” at this point, and you’re far too in love with him not to entertain the idea you know is floating in his head. You love this about him, just how playful he is when it comes to you.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” You tap your chin as if you’re thinking hard, humming in contemplation. “How about…” you trail off, a hand sliding up a muscular bicep before massaging his nape again, relishing in the shudder he gives in response, his eyes twitching to hold back the urge to roll into his head in satisfaction. “Since you’ve suffered so much today…we can go home…and I’ll do that thing you like.”

You have the privilege and skill of being able to read Nanami Kento like a book. You don’t miss the glee that dances across his features—the uptick of one side of his mouth, the slow brow lift, the darkening of his irises. He knows exactly what that thing is. You’re pretty good at it—a master at it—and he made you promise that the day he ever turns that thing down, is the day you can leave him.

His cheeks explode in blush, jaw ticking before he clears his throat and smooths a sweaty hand down the dark blue of his shirt.

“I see,” he ponders, looking up to the sky as if in deep thought, and you know if you roll your eyes again, they’ll get stuck. “Well.” He situates Ulani in his arms and presses a few kisses to her cheek again to pull those giggles from her that you both love. “Who am I to deny your mother?” he suggests to his daughter. “Not a moment to waste, Ulani.”

“You’ve got to be kidding—”

“Quickly, before you change your mind.” He slides a hand to the small of your back as a means to hurry you along, pressing softly and turning you in the direction of the car.

You try to bat his hands away from you, giggles growing in volume as he dodges all your attempts to get rid of him. “I’m not going to change my mind, Ken—”

“Quickly.”

He takes your hand and you let him pull you, beaming at his back as he increases his pace. Ulani is happy as can be in her father’s arms and babbling as he talks softly to her.

“A snack before nap time sounds good, doesn’t it? What kind of applesauce would you like today?” She gurgles. “Cinnamon again? Hmmm, we should always try new things, Dove. What about the strawberry ones I bought you yesterday?” A squeal. “Strawberry it is. I think…”

The rest of their conversation fades into the background as you walk with them, warmth coursing through your veins with each step. It’s a warmth that catches you off guard, but has been ever present since Ulani’s birth. And you love every bit of how it feels. How it flows through you with every breath you take. How it only grows every minute, every hour, every day that you create a life with them.

After Ulani is buckled in her car seat and you slide your seat belt into its latch, Kento leans across the armrest, a warm hand sliding against your cheek in a gentle caress before he slants his lips against yours. It’s a surprise, but the shock dies as quickly as it forms as you melt into his touch—full lips that know your own and soft blonde locks brushing your face.

That affection that he pulls from you every day is given back in this moment—freely and without restraint—in the parking lot of Claire’s in Shibuya, where your daughter got her ears pierced for the first time.

When he pulls away and whispers his love for you against your lips, you repeat it back to him without thinking. It’s a motion that you both carry out whenever you can. 

“No more piercings. My heart will probably give out.”

“Do you feel better?” you ask in a tone that is filled with the teasing nature that sticks to you like a second skin.

He loves it, but doesn’t take the bait, and instead kisses your lips again, each cheek, and the tip of your nose. “I will soon.” The innuendo is so obvious you can taste it. He’s been with you too long to be a blushing and awkward man. “Once Ulani is asleep.” You push him away with a giggling huff and savor the deep chuckle that falls from his lips, permeating the air of the car.

As Kento drives through the crowded streets towards your shared home in Nakameguro, the hand not on the steering wheel envelops yours, a thumb stroking the skin of your palm. You look out the window and observe the colors and cars that zoom by, and the sound of a deep breath behind you makes you look back. And when you do, your heart gives a painful but welcoming lurch as you gaze at her. Your daughter already asleep, her head dipping to the side—curly locks askew and sticking to the drool on her face, and her new diamond earrings shining back at you.

Thanks for reading!

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi sweetheart, hope you’re good<3

Could you write sth for Matilda and Lucas? Whatever you’d like but I’m getting all mushy on the idea of them understanding each other without words and all

Note: me too! I starred thinking about it and I melted! 🥹🫠 I hope you're well too!

Even though Lando and Oscar would spend a lot of the time in media duties, they still wanted their little ones close to them so they could spend a little time with them on their breaks.

While their mothers engaged in conversation, Lucas and Matilda sat at the table with their arts and crafts kits open. They were both quiet kids but they understood eachother without having to speak many words.

Matilda would always make sure her crayons were within arms reach for Lucas, and the little boy would always notice whenever she needed something and make sure she could have it, like right now, when he noticed her crayon needed to be sharpened, gently handing her the sharpener with a sweet smile on his face.

"Thank you, Lucas", Matilda whispered gently as she took it, a sweet smile on her face too.

They drew on each of their drawings until it was done before Lucas pulled a big A3 sheet of paper from his folder, "my mummy said we could draw on this together, do you want to do that?", he asked.

Matilda nodded, grabbing some of her pens and spreading them out so he could use them too, starting to draw flowers on the paper. Lucas followed her, doing his best to make sure they complimented her pink and purple flowers. They easily found a scheme: Matilda would draw the petals, colouring them in and then Lucas would follow with the glittery yellow pen to colour in the middle, ending up with about a quarter of the page covered in flowers in all colours and shapes.

Lucas thought it would look nice with some rainbows, so he started drawing them, this time with Matilda following his lead as they drew the coloured arches.

After tidying up, they both got up and walked up to a magnetic wall, their mothers always keeping an eye on them, and grabbed some magnets to hold their drawing up.

"Hey, Tilly", Lando cooed as he and Oscar walked up the stairs, seeing their children looking at the drawing.

"Did you draw that with Matilda, little man?", Oscar asked as Lucas hugged his legs, nodding in response, "it looks really good", he complimented.

"Looks really pretty, baby", Lando smiled, pulling his daughter up on his hip and kissing her cheek, "let's go to mummy, hm? We can all have lunch together".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[noemilivv]

Hi 👋

I saw your requests were open again! If you're up for it, would you do a fluff oneshot for Husk x reader?

Iike maybe they're hosting a ball and the Hazbin crew has to get all dressed up and the reader dances with Husk.

Kinda got inspo from the ballroom scene from Beauty and the beast.

If not, it's totally cool and I look forward to what you put out next! 😊

the timing is funny considering i’m doing the musical for beauty and the beast rn haha anyway this is so cute, and husk is my boo, so ofc i’ll do this for you!!

this gives off the vibes of one of my hazbin hotel oc’s so bad, so i’m sorry if the reader is a little more, detailed(?) than most of my previous works😭

i had so many inspo pics for each characters fits, so i put links to pics on the side for some of them, hope that it’s not too jarring haha

“I’m not too good at this…”

Husk x Reader

Warnings: Fem!Reader (i’m so sorry to my male or other identifying readers😭), Swearing, S1 Finale Spoilers, Chaggie (Charlie x Vaggie), Pentious x Cherri (idfk their ship name), platonic Rosie and Alastor

You checked your appearance in the mirror attached to your vanity one last time, you fluffed out your hair, which Charlie had been so generous to curl for you, and fixed up the edges of your lip gloss.

Ever since the hotel had been rebuilt, a lot more traction came along with it, and Charlie and Alastor insisted on hosting an ‘opening ball’ sort of thing for the reopening for the new hotel.

You dusted off your glittery, rose gold dress one last time (which for reference, looked like this), admiring the gems placed in your hair one last time, before hurrying out of your room, and down into the lobby, which was redecorated for this special occasion.

You see Charlie and immediately go to hug her, even though you got ready with her, as well as Vaggie, this is the first time you really got to soak in her appearance. Her hair was up in a French braid, it suited her oddly well, as for the dress? Her dress was very, well, her — it was princess-y, had some lace, but was a bright pink (which looked similar to this)

“Hey girl!” you said excitedly, as you pulled her to you, you could feel her smile softly in the crook of your neck, you pull back and grin at her, your hands rest on the sides of her arms briefly as she grins back at you, “You look awesome!” You said, she really did, she was very naturally pretty, there wasn’t an ounce of makeup on her face other than a few subtle coats of mascara, which you only noticed due to the lack of distance between you both. “Me? Pfff, stop. Look at you!” She says, giving a bashful giggle, more people begin to fill in, and music starts blaring, you both turn over to see Cherri over at the DJ booth — the guy Charlie had paid had gotten a bit too…high before the gig, so Cherri was a last minute decision.

“I should go, there’s a lot of, important people here I need to talk to, we need to catch up though!” Charlie said with a small chuckle, “Sure thing!” You reply before you begin walking around to find your next victim who’s going to listen to you talk their ear off until you get bored.

As you walk, you see a lot of folks that you wouldn’t expect to see, Rosie and Alastor are talking, Mimzy’s banging it out on the dance floor, and even Velvette decided to show up (the other two Vee’s weren’t invited for…clear reasons).

You see that Cherri took a break from DJing, as Alastor used some of his magic from his new and improved cane to have it do it on its own, after Adam snapped the last one in half.

Cherri’s chatting with Angel and Pentious, who which you never thought would come down for this after being redeemed, and excitedly you go up to them.

“Pen, Angel, Cherri!” You shout out as you approach them, “Hello, my friend, I haven’t ssseen you ssssince the battle! Quite the time, hehe!” Pentious said, giving you a side hug, which was a lot more awkward than you both would’ve liked.

“Heya, bitch!” Cherri said, nudging ya softly, as Angel gives you a small nod of acknowledgement.

“So, Pentious, how are things up in Heaven?” You asked curiously, a bit louder than you would’ve like, having to yell over the blaring music.

“Sssssplendid! I get back rubs every day!” He exclaimed. Odd. But that’s Sir Pentious for you.

Cherri and Pentious go off to have their own conversation, not wanting to third wheel, you more so turn your attention to Angel, who is looking quite bad ass. “Loving the look, Ange!”

He smirks, “You’re rocking your fit too, toots.” he says back, giving you a toothy grin. He had a baby pink blazer on, with a matching crop top underneath that pronounced his fluff, with matching pants and black heeled boots (like this.)

“You seen Husk anywhere?” He asked, glancing around the darkly-lit lobby for the grumpy cat. “Actually, now that I think about it, no, I don’t think I have. Why?” You said, beginning to go back into your memory to remember if you saw him last.

“Jus’ cuz, I know how you look at eachother, it’d be like a little romantic moment. Swaying on the dance floor, holding eachother, eh?” Angel said with a soft, playful grin, nudging your arm.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say, a soft grin playing on your lips, yes, you do know what he’s talking about, a little too well.

“Sureeee…” He says, a knowing smile on his face, his head turns slightly. “There ‘e is.” He points to the far end of the room.

Husk is there, his shooing Niffty off as Vaggie goes to take her, a bottle in his hands.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” Angel says, pushing you over.

“Hey.” You smile, Husk looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, whatcha up to?”

“Not much, just trying to make a point to talk to everyone.” You say, chuckling softly.

His smile remains, before looking away, and then back at you, a…discombobulated look on his face. “Ey, I’m not too great this, ain’t done this shit since I was alive.” He starts, chuckling softly, “But, er…” He holds out his paw to you, a loving, affection smile on his face that tugs at your heartstrings, “Will you, have a dance with me?”

You grin widely, before taking his paw, “Yeah.. I will.”

As you both approach the dance floor, the music begins to slow down, as people take their partners in their arms and hold them close, cherishing a romantic moment.

Husk pulls you in by the waist with one paw, the other hand holding your own, as you both begin to sway.

You look around, too flustered to look at Husk, you smile at the sight of all the lovely pairs.

Cherri’s with Pentious, as he’s tripping over her as she chuckles softly in his embrace, Rosie and Al are sharing a lovely moment as friends, talking amongst themselves, and Vaggie and Charlie are holding eachother close, closing the gap to share an intimate kiss.

Your eyes skim over Husk, it was the first real time you’d seen him in, actual clothes…

He wore black trousers, with a fitted white buttoned shirt, with a red tie and suspenders.

Hesitation was written all over Husks face, you’d never seen him in such a state, he sighed before speaking, “Look, I’ve never been into all this,” he said, gesturing to the scenery before you both. “But quite frankly, my heart beats for you, and I’d really like to work something out for us.” He stated, a soft and… nervous(?) smile tugged at the ends of his lips.

“I’d… really like that.”

Before you both know it, the ball ends, and Husk takes you up to your room, you’re both slightly tipsy, giggling at simply the presence of eachother, Husk stops at your door.

He looks at you before pecking your forehead, smiling proudly to both himself, and you, “Sweet dreams, doll, I’ll see you in the morning.”

[playmiya]

chapter three: world is a fuck previous ⎯ masterlist ⎯ next

Atsumu's running one hand through his hair and shoving the mask in his bag with another has he sprints up the stairs of Otsuka.

One of the newer, nicer dorms of the Uni, he almost feels jealous of his building, characterised by its old architecture and patchy Wi-Fi. His knee hurts from where the thief from earlier managed to land a kick, but he pushes on, wiping away blood from a stray cut on his cheek and hoping it's not a deep wound.

He throws the door open to the common room, surprisingly empty at 8PM on a Tuesday, to see your figure intensely taping your knuckles as you wince. Your eyes flit up to his, and you fumble with the tape until it stretches into a long line, hanging from your hand. You gaze at the cut on his cheek, and he stares at your hand til he clears his throat.

"My cat knocked over a bowl."

"My dog's got way too much energy."

You giggle, and he laughs, feeling more comfortable as he drops his backpack at the door and moves closer to the couch you were lazing on.

"You must be Atsumu," you say, offering him your free hand, which he takes. "And you're [Name]?", he asks, giving you a once over. He can't help but appreciatively admire you, which doesn't go unnoticed.

"Are you seriously checking me out right now?", you gasp, wrangling your hand from his. He falls into his witty, charming ways almost immediately.

"If art's staring right at ya, would ya not admire it?", he drawls, and you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, unable to hide the way your lips quirk up in amusement, despite the cringe.

"You must say that to every girl you meet. A little bird tells me that you meet a lot," you speak, settling into the couch as he pulls up a chair in front of you.

"I didn't know this was an interview into my personal life," Atsumu responds in faux shock, pleasantly surprised by your directness.

"Well, that's really what's getting the views for us, isn't it?", you say, flipping your moleskin notebook open and clicking your glittery pink pen.

"I'm being objectified and I don't like it," Atsumu jokes and you make a laugh, scrunching your nose in the process.

"And no, I don't. Say that to every girl I meet. Just to sassy editors that bite back," he adds, and you have to fight the weird feeling in your stomach to continue this interview in a more ... professional manner.

Clearing your throat, you ask him if he's ready to be recorded, and after his assent, you start.

"Okay, rapid-fire questions now. Please answer with the first thing that comes to mind." He shoots you a thumbs up.

"Greatest accomplishment?"

"So far? Repping Japan at the U19 Worlds."

"What are you grateful for?"

"Myself", he smirks, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes again.

"Dream dinner guest?"

"Myself 20 years from now. To see if I've made it."

"Do you want to be famous?"

"I already am."

"Current concern?"

Washing the blood out of my suit. "If my roommate left me any dinner."

"What song did you last listen to?"

"2 soon by keshi."

"What's a secret skill that you have?"

I can shoot webs from my wrists! "I'm really good at skincare."

"Okay," you murmur, scribbling as he spoke. He feels like peering over and reading what you wrote. "Longer questions now."

"How do you manage your time between being a student and an athlete, as well as enjoying campus life?"

I don't, is what he wants to say. He barely hangs on by a thread — or a web, if you will — taking each day as it comes and knowing that as Spider-Man, he'll always need to have excuses up his sleeve to run from one commitment to another. Instead, he blabs about schedules and planning and using Notion, which in reality scares the shit out of him.

"What do you think about the current competition in the volleyball circuit? Are there any players who you think could bump you down the rankings at the draft?"

"Everyone's good," he says slowly, considering his words, and then a lazy smirk settles on his face. "But I'm the best."

"Riiight," you intone, writing something down. "You do know this is being published?", you add, and he hums. "I said what I said."

"What are your opinions on the current safety concerns on-campus?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "I still gotta do what I gotta do. We got Spider-Man. He'll protect us."

You raise an eyebrow. "All the time? Don't you think we should take matters into our own hands?"

Atsumu's taken aback by your response. He knows reactions towards Spider-Man are extreme; some hate him, while others love him, but this is new.

"Has he ever let us down?"

"Well, yeah. He let a Five Guys get absolutely demolished by Electro last week, Rhino ran through a block in May, and everyone knows about Tokyo tower—"

He has to hide the burn in his cheeks from the embarrassment of Tokyo Tower, remembering the humiliation of that evening. "Yeah, well, some may say he was trying to protect everyone from heart attacks by letting that Five Guys get destroyed, and that Rhino thing was just police negligence if you think about it," he protests, and you scowl.

"He's a good hero, sure, but not the hero. We need more than just one guy swinging around to keep Tokyo safe."

He's about to open his mouth when he feels the hair on his arm raise, and that awful feeling of something cold creeping up his spine settle into his bones. His phone beeps with an alert, and he sees Osamu's text flash across the screen. Fire in a mall nearby. Suspected work of an arsonist.

He doesn't notice your phone light up, and Yachi sending you the screenshot of a headline along with a location, and the way you begin squirming in your seat, wanting nothing more to finish this interview now.

Atsumu beats you to it, making the worst excuse he's possibly ever come up with.

"I'm having an attack of explosive diahhrea."

taglist: @diorzs @egoistars @southernfrogprincesd @dazqa @milesmoralesluvs @she-lovesmyheartshapedsunglasses @dailyakira @giocriedpower @punkhazardlaw @loverlunaire

[uselessbiscuitsoul]

I Put Sound Village Characters into a HeadCanon Generator

and these are the first Headcanons that came up for each character

Tayuya cracks her knuckles very loudly

Sakon watched the Sonic movie; Ukon believes in Santa

Kidomaru has a deck of YuGiOh cards under his bed

Jirobo is awful with technology and doesn't know how to use a smartphone

Kimimaro sings in the shower

Kabuto is in your house

Kin hacks her stats in evry video game she plays

Zaku reads ao3

Dosu can't sit in a chair properly

Karin's favourite colour is Pink

Suigetsu is very good at walking in platform heels

Juugo is a very good singer

Guren roleplays on discord

Yukimaru knows fnaf lore

Orochimaru likes board games, but no-one else wants to play with him

Mitsuki has a diary that they write in with glittery gel pen

Log almost drank the lethal dosage of caffeine once

[sunshinebingo]

A Gwynriel meet-cute fic inspired by my writer's block and the music video of I Hear A Symphony by Cody Fry.

Synopsis: Gwyn tries everything possible to put a stop to her writer's block, unbeknownst that her source of inspiration will appear right at her door.

Word Count: 2.4k

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

She sat, alone and upset.

She sat in her home, as lonely and desperate as she had ever been, and waited for a miracle to happen.

Gwyn crossed yet another sentence, the words becoming less readable with every line she frustratingly drew across them.

“Ugh. I’m a lost cause,” she complained.

What was she doing wrong? She was applying every advice she had received from her fellow authors, some of which had worked for her previous writer’s blocks. She was so desperate that she was even doing everything all at once to increase her chances at finally writing. Her head had been a blank slate for too many months now.

The first step had been to put on her comfiest hoodie and shorts, her hair up in a high ponytail, and to sit on her comfiest chair at her desk with some cool water. She was also using a pen and paper instead of her laptop. Typing everything out later would be an extra step, but one that she was willing to take. If, she hoped hard, she managed to write anything at all. In addition to all that, she was using a different colour than black, and had convinced herself that she was using a different font. If she always used Times New Roman, Arial or Calibri, her own handwriting had to count as a new font, right?

She even had ambient music playing in the background; the sound of a peaceful forest that she imagined her heroine – a nymph – living in. From the different sounds that floated around her, Gwyn imagined the nymph sitting in her little cottage, with a freshly polished dagger on a table next to a steaming cup of hibiscus tea. Magical birds could be heard chirping outside along with her ethereal voice humming. Occasionally, Gwyn could also hear tiny footsteps and giggles that made her think of the little folks that she had introduced earlier in chapter 3.

All the conditions were perfect. Every element was right here in her head; the setting, the mood, the time and weather. Yet it still felt like nothing was happening. As though she couldn’t get her heroine to do anything, no matter how hard Gwyn poked her with her mental stick. Perhaps she was also waiting for something more interesting than everything her creator came up with.

Gwyn sighed and rubbed her eyes. The bright pink was starting to hurt her tired eyes and making her annoyance with herself grow. Maybe she should have picked a different one among her many colourful pens. Could a glittery one work?

She took a few sips of water from her favourite mug, followed by a few slow and deeps breaths during which she wondered how the hell she had managed to publish two books in four years with a brain like hers.

Reading and writing were a passion that she had successfully turned into her job. It meant more to her than just paying her bills and affording everything she owned. It was her source of joy and fulfilment; what had slowly let her out of her safe shell and had given her a reason to live. At least it was all of this when the made-up creatures living in her head actually did things that she could write about. Her team of editors and publishers would never approve of a story where the characters only sat and waited for the unknown for half of the book.

“Someone could die,” Gwyn tapped her pen against her cheek and thought out loud. But for that to happen, she would have to come up with a motive and a plan.

She imagined her protagonist staring blankly at her as if to ask, “Really?”

She scowled at the pink ink on the white paper and asked, “What else do you suggest to spice up the plot?”

She refused to give up on her story midway through. Something would happen. She just needed faith in her creativity and her skills. And a prayer or two to the writers’ gods to send a genius idea her way. With little hope that they would listen, Gwyn plunged back into her story, where the nymph was still doing a whole lot of nothing.

She sat there, as lonely and desperate as she had ever felt, and slowly giving up on the hope that miracles could happen, when a rattling sound disturbed the quiet of her home. It persisted until…

“Wait a second.”

…until the author realised that the sound was coming from outside her own apartment door.

“What the hell?”

Both of Gwyn’s best friends, Emerie and Nesta, the only two who ever showed up at her place unannounced, were currently at work. Even if they had gotten out early, they would have knocked or called after finding her door locked. Which it most often was. The building that Gwyn lived in was quite luxurious with an excellent security system. But judging by the person who had been trying to forcefully open her door for the last minute, Gwyn’s anxiety about her safety began to surface again.

She stood from her desk and made her way towards what could be an intruder. Holding her pink pen up like a serial killer might hold a knife, Gwyn brought her hand to the knob. If she was fast enough, she could press the button on the interphone right next to the door as soon as she opened it and alert the security guard. But what if Frank was already dead and now the killer was coming for her? Gwyn damned herself for having gone with an apartment on the second floor instead of the twenty-second. What was the benefit of having one of the best balconies in the building if she was among the firsts to die?

“Pull yourself together Gwyneth!” she told herself.

Her heroine wouldn’t cower before the one trying to break through her cottage. She would feel the fear but confront it. Gwyn might have no dagger nor claws; she might have no magic to bring down her enemies. But, like her nymph, she refused to die. Not when she had a story to finish. Gwyn summoned as much courage as she had often infused her nymph with and yanked her door open.

What she saw crouching before her with a key in one gloved hand and a black and blue helmet in the other didn’t look like a murderer. Not that she had ever knowingly come face to face with one to know what they looked like.

Gwyn lowered her pen at her side as the man straightened and towered over her with strong arms and broad shoulders that were hugged by a black leather jacket. His brown skin glowed under the dim yellow light of the baroque-style hallway of the building. His hazel eyes were like a blaze that bore into Gwyn, even as the rest of his handsome face showed signs of surprise. There was a hint of confusion apparent in the frown of his obsidian eyebrows that matched the colour of his short, dishevelled hair.

He looked like a male straight out of a romantasy. The type whose looks alone could mark him as someone who is always broody. Until he meets the one who can effortlessly make him smile with an adorable laugh, a teasing remark or an irreverent challenging look; the latter being the kind a writer like herself would describe as a withering stare that would earn the object of the male’s fascination an amused chuckle.

Was he even real? Or had Gwyn dived so deep into her fictional world that she had landed somewhere inside it? If it was the case, then it meant that there was more to her story that she had yet to discover, since she had never met such a stunning man in that world of hers. She didn’t even know that such beauty and magnetism was possible.

He was just standing there in front of her. Yet his eyes seemed to hold a power that made it impossible for her to acknowledge anything else.

“Hello.”

The deep voice she heard didn’t sound like it was coming from her imagination.

“Hi,” she breathlessly greeted back.

“Uh... Hi... I was...”

Gwyn took in every single fumbled words that came out of his plump lips, ready to listen to him say anything. But he stopped and, for a moment, just stared at her with an intensity that she did not realise matched the way she was looking at him.

“Can I help you?” she asked when the silence stretched, hoping that she hadn’t looked at him like she had never seen a man before. Although she was still not entirely convinced that he wasn’t a manifestation of her fantasies.

The man shook his visible stupor away at her question and offered her a small yet very charming smile.

“I think this is my new apartment.”

Gwyn frowned in puzzlement.

“I’m sure it’s not?” she said like she wasn’t sure at all.

He cocked his head to the side in thought before looking around as though he had dropped something. Then, realising he was already holding it, he held his key up for her to see.

“Isn’t this number 9?”

Gwyn’s frown deepened until realisation struck her harder than a lighting bolt.

“Ah. I see.” Gwyn pursed her lips to hold in a laugh. “May I?”

She extended her hand to the mystery man and motioned to his key with a tilt of her head.

He raised a brow at her. A corner of his lips slowly tugged into a smirk that disappeared a few seconds later. Whether he was trying to consciously school his features or not, Gwyn didn’t know. But she enjoyed the mischief that she had glimpsed for a moment there.

“You may,” he said as he dropped the small object in her open palm.

Gwyn held the key chain up and placed it next to the engraving on the wall with her house’s number on it. She showed him how, in this way, the key chain formed a miniature version of the engraving, with the design being the exact same, except for the 6 of her house number which didn’t match the 9 of his key.

His eyes darted between the engraving and the key, and to the redhead who was playfully wiggling her eyebrows at him. Then he laughed, his rich voice so beautiful that Gwyn imagined it would be impossible to ever tire of hearing it. And when she laughed with him, she found that she very much liked the harmony that their two voices created.

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “That was very dumb of me.”

“I’ll give you that. It was,” she said with a shrug.

The man eyed Gwyn like he was disappointed that she had so quickly agreed. His expression only pulled another laugh out of Gwyn.

“Yours is the one over there.” She pointed at the hallway behind him. To the second door down to her left. “Next to the wall lamp.”

He look there before turning back to her. Gwyn dangled his key in front of him.

“You won’t get my home just yet but you’ll get to be my neighbour.”

She found herself curious as to what kind of neighbour mister handsome here would be. Would they come across each other at random hours of the day and night as they went about their lives?

The smile that brightened his face was more disarming than any that Gwyn had ever seen.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, neighbour.” He extended a hand to her.

“I’m Gwyneth. Or just Gwyn.”

She shook his offered hand with the same one that she still held his key. He took it with him as he slowly, almost reluctantly, pulled his hand away.

“I’m Azriel. Or just... Azriel.”

He cleared his throat and adjusted the helmet he carried under his left arm. Gwyn smiled.

“Alright. Just Azriel.”

They stood there in silence for a while. Their gazes locked, their hands fidgeting with whatever they carried. Gwyn was here and somewhere else at the same time. His body, his face, his voice, his mere presence stirred something in her. It was thrilling and also...intimidating.

He was like a mystery that was yet to be unfold. A story that needed to be written. Gwyn sensed in her writer’s heart that his could be one with pain and pleasure, ire and love. His eyes were a window through which she wanted to dive into his soul and learn all of his secrets. She also wanted to know what kind of man he could be in his most caring or vulnerable state.

Knowing a person in such a deep, all encompassing way was almost impossible. But perhaps, Gwyn wondered as her eyes widened, her version of him could provide her with the answers she sought.

“I – ”

“I – ”

“I should – ”

“I need to – ”

They both laughed at their synchronicity.

“I should go check my actual apartment.”

“And I should get back to mine. I hope you don’t get lost on your way.”

One of his brows rose. “I will blame your directions if I do.”

Gwyn crossed her arms and scowled at him. But the effect was lost with the smile that threatened to spread on her lips.

She watched him turn around and walk to his apartment. No doubt sensing her eyes still on him after he opened his door, “just Azriel” looked at her again. Gwyn waved at him. He winked, then stepped inside. Without wasting another second, Gwyn closed her own door and rushed to her desk.

Words and images formed in her mind like music flowing out of her imagination; a scene playing out like a musician effortlessly soaring through the notes of their symphony.

Gwyn immersed herself in it and let her hand glide across pages after pages of her notebook. She wrote about the nymph and her intruder, a mysterious male that became more real with every element she discovered about his character.

It might have been luck or sheer coincidence. It might have also been an answer to her hopeless prayers. Gwyn had no time to care. What mattered was that she was now inspired.

[pinkacademiaprincess]

Hi! I’m about to start uni in October (law)

Can you give me a list of to-dos to mentally and physically prepare for this new journey? Like, things to bring, items to buy, notebooks etc 🥹💘

Operation Straight-A Student: A Comprehensive Guide to Prepping for a Successful Uni Experience 🎀📚💗✏️

ty for the ask! i'm not a law student, so this is gonna be more general uni advice that i hope can apply for you. best of luck in your journey, you're gonna do amazing things!!

step no. 1: plan, plan, plan!

for me, being organized & prepping ahead of time has been so helpful. even if things get a bit hectic or tough, having a routine to fall back on is key. here's how i do it!

google calendar

as soon as i have my class schedule, i input all my class meeting times on google calendar. then, based on whatever free space is left over, i allocate time for schoolwork and studying. here's the schedule i designed for this upcoming term:

make sure your study/ classwork time accounts for whatever online courses you're taking too. you should also include blocks for work, club meetings, etc. if they're recurring. i have google calendar linked to my phone so i get notifs for each time block.

planner

i recommend having a good planner. whether this is online or physical, depending on your preference, a weekly planner of your own is helpful for staying on top of work & having peace of mind.

the planner i use is the moleskine weekly planner. here is what it looks like inside:

on the left side i write all the tasks i have on each weekday (similar to the google calendar). on the right side, i list all the tasks i have to complete during that given week - i open the syllabi for all my classes and input whatever hw, assignments, projects, etc. are upcoming. i write them down in a checklist along with the date they're due. then, during my study blocks, i can check this page & decide what to work on!

note-taking & classwork

you should also have supplies for note-taking. some ppl prefer to take digital notes, so this means using your laptop or a tablet & stylus. personally, i like to take handwritten notes, so i bring loose-leaf lined paper & pencils to my lectures. i write the class name & date as the header for each page. when i'm done taking notes, i write the key topics in the top left-hand corner of the pager (in "no-man's land") so i can easily find the notes on specific topics when i'm flipping through them.

in terms of classwork, i recommend having a folder for each of your classes where you can store notes, assignments, tests, etc. i know some people use one big binder for all classes, but if you have a separate folder for each, you don't have to carry them all around on days when you only have two or three classes. i like the brand five star bc the folders are very durable and i've had the same ones all throughout uni!

for me, i've never been a huge notebook person b/c i like to keep my subjects separate so i rarely fill up an entire notebook. you can buy one to start with, and see once school starts if you think you need more!

other supplies

in terms of supplies, i'm honestly pretty minimalistic. the necessities for me are my planner, a folder & loose-leaf paper, and a pencil pouch with plenty of pens & pencils. i also bring my laptop & charger with me to school bc i use that for my online classes.

i do enjoy having cute supplies! i have a cute pink pencil pouch, glittery mechanical pencils, and fun pens. i also put stickers all over my laptop to give it a personal touch. i did a bit of embroidery on my backpack as well. you don't need to spend tons of money on aesthetic supplies, especially if it's something you won't have for long. but, finding simple ways to add a personal touch to your items can be fun & motivating!

step no. 2: make an action plan

i feel like it's easy to tell yourself you wanna do certain things or be a certain person during school. for example, i always want to be super studious, outgoing, & involved, but i used to struggle sm to actually do that. instead of only thinking of how you want to be, create actual steps/ tasks for yourself. here are my action items for inspo:

sit in the front row of every class - this can be daunting, but in my uni experience, wherever you sit in the first week becomes your (un)official assigned seat. get to class early, take a deep breath, and sit yourself down at the front! you'll be forcing yourself to stay at the front, but i promise it's fine! i really prefer this b/c if you & the prof get to class early you can chat a bit. also, when i wanna participate, i can speak at my regular volume & they'll hear me (rather than if i'm in the back row and had to scream). if nothing else, you'll become a familiar face!

attend office hours for each class at least once - i sometimes felt nervous/ anxious to go to office hours and talk to the professors & ta. but when you do it once, you realize they truly just want to help! getting to know the ppl who grade your assignments can be super useful. they might give you advice or info you don't get in lectures. plus, they are super knowledgeable!

raise your hand once per week - this forces you to be engaged with the content. i used to have such horrible social anxiety & the thought of speaking up in class & getting an answer wrong was my worst nightmare. and when i set this rule & began forcing myself to participate, i did make mistakes. but guess what... everyone moves on immediately. you might feel like the world is ending. it haunted me for weeks after 😢 but no one else cares! in the end, ppl will only remember that you were confident enough to raise your hand & speak up, not what you said. pls don't let your education suffer just b/c you're afraid some classmates might judge you! if raising your hand to answer problems is too daunting, start with asking clarifying questions & slowly build up to whatever you're able to do.

start a conversation with a classmate - having classmates that you're friendly with is so important. if you miss a lecture, need help on a concept, etc. you'll have someone you can turn to. and that's the least of it - you can end up making long-lasting friends! yes, it's scary to talk to a stranger. so, force yourself to do it as early as possible in the semester. an easy one - if you see someone sitting by an empty seat, ask if that seat is taken. if not, yay! it's go time 😊 sit by them and find something else to talk about - give them a (genuine & non-creepy) compliment, ask them if they've seen the syllabus, ask if they know the prof, etc. just something to get the convo started!! figure out their name, major, and other stuff too. once you've talked with them long enough to feel like you're getting along (whether that's after one class or multiple) ask for their number/ discord/ whatever so you can keep in touch! if they share your major, you should keep in contact with them b/c you might have other classes together in the future. but, again, in the best-case scenario, you have a new friend!

wear a cute outfit once per week - sometimes i would get a bit embarrassed or self-conscious to dress up for class. i forced myself to do it once per week, starting the first week of class, to set a precedent for myself. slowly i eased my way into wearing cute, fun outfits every day! no one is judging you as much as you are judging yourself, so have fun & be true to you.

step no. 3: study smarter, not harder

attending class is one thing, but you've got to put in the effort to study if you truly want to succeed. but, not all study methods will work for every single person. figure out how to study so you don't waste time with methods that don't work for you.

determine your learning style(s)

there are a few widely accepted learning styles. you've probably tried all of them throughout your time at school, so think back on which learning experiences have been most and least successful for you. then, connect them back to these learning styles to figure out ways you can most effectively study.

visual:  if you learn by seeing info visually, such as with maps, graphs, diagrams, charts, etc.

auditory: if you learn by getting info in auditory form, aka when it's heard or spoken

kinesthetic: aka hands-on, if you learn by doing & applying

reading/writing: if you learn info best when it’s in words, aka by writing it down or reading it

you might find that multiple of these learning styles are effective for you, maybe there's one that sticks out as the most similar to your style of learning, or maybe one that just doesn't work for you. now, you don't need to assign yourself one and forego the rest, but you can adjust the time you spend on various study methods based on how well they work for you.

for me, i've realized over time that i am NOT a reading learner. in high school i would diligently read all the textbook assignments, spending hours getting through the chapters, only to retain none of it & do poorly on assignments & tests.

on the other hand, i respond really well to kinesthetic learning - when applying concepts hands-on, such as with practice problems, i have a much better understanding of concepts & retention.

fast forward to college - i spend very little time on assigned readings. in fact, sometimes i skip them all together 🫢 b/c if i spend an hour reading the textbook but retain none of it, that's an hour wasted. especially if the content from the textbook is going to line up with the lecture, i'm much better off paying attention & taking good notes in class, and then spending my study time doing practice problems. if i really do need to read the textbook, i have to make it interactive for myself - i answer the questions at the end of the chapter, take notes, quiz myself, etc.

now, my advice here isn't to skip textbook readings!! that's not something i recommend b/c for so many people, it IS effective and helpful! when it comes to studying, play on your strengths. don't try to force yourself to learn in a way that doesn't work for your brain. make modifications & prioritize your learning! here is an awesome guide to different methods that work for the various learning styles.

find your ideal study environment

you can also maximize the effectiveness of your studying based on the environment you're in. if you can decide what factors help or hinder your studying abilities, it will help you decide where you should make your go-to study spot!

at home or in public? sometimes, studying in a public place can be unproductive. it might make you feel more stressed (like the sensation of having your teacher look over your shoulder during a test 🫣) or distracted. for me, studying in public is actually useful b/c i'm less likely to get disctracted. if i'm in my room i might get tempted to open up tumblr or pinterest, but in public i feel like ppl might see me get off topic which deters me LOL. however, studying at home is nice b/c you're in the comfort of your own personal space - you can change into pjs, cuddle your pet, grab a snack, etc. i do a mix of studying in public & at home b/c i feel like they both have their benefits

quiet or noisy? do you study better in a silent environment, or do you like some sound/ white noise? personally, i cannot deal with ANY noise when i'm trying to study, it totally breaks my focus 😭but some people like the ambient/ white noise of a coffee shop

music or silence? similar to the last one, does having music help you stay focused, or distract you? i know ppl will swear by different things - classical music, upbeat music, songs in different languages, etc. again, i personally cannot handle any sounds 😅 but if music keeps you alert, plan accordingly - have earbuds or go to a coffee shop that has a playlist going

nature or indoors? maybe you find it stuffy to be indoors all day & studying out in the open air helps you stay grounded and calm. on the flipside, being exposed to the elements might just make you more distracted. if you like studying outdoors, try public parks with benches, and also see if your campus has outdoor seating areas. some libraries do too. for a happy medium, you can study someplace with large windows/ nice view.

independent or collaborative? do you study better on your own or in groups? you can join a study group or go to office hours to get a sense of studying in a group setting vs. alone. group studying can help hold you accountable, make it more interactive, and keep you focused. that being said, i def prefer studying independently. i like to go at my own pace, and tbh i get easily distracted w/ others and will begin to just chit chat

based on how you answer those questions, you can decide what your ideal study environment is & pick a go-to place! for me, based on my preferences, my most effective study environment going to the library alone or studying in my room.

that's all for this post! i feel it got very long but i had so many tips to share. there's no "one size fits all" guide to navigating uni life. but i think everyone can benefit from prepping in advance & being mentally prepared. knowing your own strengths + having a plan of attack will guide you in stressful/ uncertain times!

overall, take the time to get to know yourself & figure out how you can be at your very best. apply whichever bits of advice resonate, and ignore anything that's not gonna serve you. this is YOUR journey!

and remember, even with all the planning in the world, things can go unexpectedly. you are more than equipped to deal with whatever life throws your way! when you are faced with unexpected things - pause & think, assess the situation, & determine your best course of action. above all, YOU'VE GOT THIS! 💗

[skyahri]

Sakura just found out that Naruto and Sasuke have never watched Disney movies before. She puts on Tarzan, then immediately realizes her mistake when his parents are murdered right off the bat. Naruto is crying because his parents are dead. Sasuke is uncomfortable because his parents are dead. Sakura is freaking out because she can't think of any movies with two alive parents.

Sakura is road rage lol. "Are you fucking kidding me? There were FOUR signs saying that lane was going to end, asshole!" The rest of team seven is hanging on for dear life as she slams the gas and flips off the other driver when she passes.

After being forced into therapy as part of his plea deal, Sasuke was encouraged to keep a feelings journal. Yeah, yeah, okay, whatever. Every night, he plops down at his desk, takes out his black notebook, picks up the frilly pink pen Sakura left at his house a few months ago, and scribbles down different aspects of his day. The ink is pink and glittery, a sharp contrast to his dark and brooding personality, but he can't find it in himself to use any other writing utensil.

Kakashi is a simple man. When technology started to boom, he was with it for all of ten seconds before he was overwhelmed. He has a computer in front of him and three nerds around him trying to coax him through email, but all he's thinking about is the good ol' days of paper and ink.

Shikamaru is the hidden leaf village's secret weapon. He's proved time and time again that no one even comes close to his mental prowess... but that doesn't mean he isn't human. On more than a few occasions, he's spent an embarrassing amount of time using the wrong key to unlock doors. He misspells and forgets words often. He generally lacks common sense because he overthinks things so hard. A side effect of your brain always being at 100, is that it struggles with 1-99.

Hashirama dared Madara to eat a weed once and Tobirama took that as a challenge. Mysterious plants, strange animals, random shit he finds in the woods or at the market- you name it and Tobirama is daring Madara to eat it. "Guess you aren't brave enough-" doesn't even finish his sentence before the Uchiha has completely consumed it and licked his fingers clean.

Masterlist Ko-fi

[blue-rose-soul]

What else is going on in Kid Alastor au? I'm craving the little chaos deer

The hotel was uncharacteristically quiet, given that the princess and her spear-wielding love were not around to reign in the rather boisterous collection of characters they'd gathered under their roof. When Charlie had solidified her plan to meet with Heaven's leadership, Alastor had fully expected to find the parlor in flames and everyone passed out drunk or temporarily dead at the bar. Instead what he found was a note left on the coffee table penned in glittery pink elegant script that read:

|

'Hey short stack. An old buddy of mine swung by and Charlie paid for everyone to have a night on the town. The place we're headed to ain't really for kids (yeah I know you're fucking old but I don't think the bouncers give a shit) plus Husk says it ain't your scene anyway. We left some cash so you can do whatever. I don't know what you do. <3 A.D.'

|

Well. How thoughtful of them.

In a burst of green flame, the letter dissolved into ash, and then even the ashes dissipated into a fine mist. The short stack of bills he left untouched on the table. As though he couldn't provide for himself, hah!

There was nothing these loathsome souls had that he needed.

Still... There were few things as dreadfully dull as a large, empty building. Perhaps he could pay a visit to Rosie in Cannibal Town. Though it was a tad late to show up unannounced. No, there was no need to go out. There were plenty of other ways one could occupy oneself in a large, empty building…

-

The pig grunted in contentment as it lapped up yet another treat. Alastor dropped another treat, lead the pig another few feet, then another few, then another.

The moment Fat Nuggets was fully inside the unused room Alastor tipped the bag and sent chocolate and peanut butter cereal pieces scattering all across the floor. With a delighted squeal, Fat Nuggets scrambled all across the room, snapping up cereal bits as fast as his little piggy feet would allow. Newspapers in one corner of the room, water and food bowl in the other, a bunch of cushions piled on the carpet. Plenty to keep the pig content – and most importantly, quiet – for a good long while.

Alastor shut the door quietly, leaving Fat Nuggets to his feast.

-

It was a small thing, but knowing how high-strung dear Vaggie was, it would be plenty enough to whip her into a storming frenzy.

Shadow men were busy rearranging the furniture. Nothing drastic, simply shifting each piece of furniture a biiiit to the left. The bed four inches, the dresser two, the vase three. Tilting every single painting, unscrewing a few choice light bulbs just enough to flicker. Nothing was glaringly out of place at a first glance, but over time…

Alastor chuckled, pleased with himself.

He was snapped from his daydreams of a frothing, red-faced sinner by a low growl. Alastor turned to find Razzle and Dazzle glaring up at him, the red baphomet flicking its tongue in displeasure while the pink one merely hissed. He raised his finger to his lips, offering the cuddly little monsters a close-mouthed smile.

“Let this pass,” he said, “and I’ll make you beignets.”

Instantly those reptilian eyes went lipid, tails wagging and growls replaced with happy chirps. A thought crossed Alastor’s mind. His lips peeled back to bare his teeth in a wicked grin.

“In fact, lend me your hooves, and I’ll make you all the beignets you can eat!”

-

Repeating the same little stunt he’d pulled with Fat Nugget on the Egg Boiz felt rather lazy. But using those little monsters was most certainly the correct method of targeting Pentious. As he entered the airship docked against the hotel building, Alastor found them all arranged in a circle on their fronts, scrawling all over pieces of construction paper with crayons and glitter glue.

“Hey, Little Boss!” the singular egg creature with a name chirped as it noticed him. “We’re making new evil plans for the Big Boss while he’s taking a break from being evil!”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed thoughtfully. “Tell me, would you little monsters like to help me with a surprise for your boss?”

“A surprise?” Frank echoed.

The sweet smile on Alastor’s lips was at odd with the devious glint in his eye.

“Why yes! Our dear princess thought we might throw him a party in celebration of the great strides he’s made towards self betterment!” Hah. “And of course, who better to surprise that slippery serpent than his most beloved minions?”

The little egg creatures began chattering amongst themselves before they, in near unison, hopped to their feet and saluted.

“Surprise Party Division reporting for duty, Little Boss!”

“And of course, you’ll need supplies!”

With the snap of his fingers, five bursts of green light materialized five prop guns into the Egg Boiz’ hands. The Egg Boiz immediately started ooh-ing and ah-ing over the toys, one saying something about ray guns and another turning his prop over in his hand to peer straight down the barrel. That one jolted as he accidentally squeezed the trigger, letting off a burst of light and noise right in front of his face.

“Now remember!” Alastor said. “It’s a surprise. So you must hide, and when Sir Pentious arrives, jump out and fire off those party poppers!”

A little egg hand shot in the air.

“Why do the party poppers look like guns?”

“I thought it matched the aesthetic,” Alastor replied, gesturing about the metal airship and the various dismantled weapons scattered around. This seemed to satisfy the Egg Boiz. “Now off you go. Hide, and when Sir Pentious comes, jump out and fire off those party poppers! I’m sure he will be quite amused!”

With a final salute, the Egg Boiz took their new toys and scattered, disappearing into vents, canisters, crates and wherever else. An impish grin on his face, Alastor faded into the shadows.

-

The clinking of glass greeted Alastor as he reappeared in the common area. He found Razzle and Dazzle at the bar, right where he’d left them, rifling through the colorful bottles on the shelves. Dazzle placed a bottle up on the shelf, inching it around so that the label was facing outward before turning to Alastor.

“Last one?” he asked.

Razzle and Dazzle nodded.

“And the original bottles?”

The pink one lifted up a bulging garbage bag from behind the counter, the contents rattling together with each subtle movement. Alastor nodded in approval.

“Ought to put that somewhere dear Husker won’t come across it,” he said. “And I suppose I ought to get started on those beignets while you do.”

The plush demons bleated in joy. Before they could fly off with their stash of expensive alcohol, Alastor called out to them.

“Wait. Leave out a bottle of rye. Just set it on the coffee table, next to the radio.”

Alastor didn’t wait to see if they listened. With the snap of his fingers the radio blared to life, playing a lively jazz tune whilst he made his way to the kitchen to prepare a doughy, sugary feast for the adorable little beasts.

His shadows rose and solidified, pulling open cupboards and setting out the utensils and ingredients. One placed a stool in front of the sink so he could step up and wash his hands, another retrieved his apron and slipped it over his head while a third tied the apron for him.

Alastor was stirring the brown sugar into the mixture of milk and butter when the goats reappeared, hovering right over his shoulder. Alastor waved them off, then reached for the cinnamon.

“No hovering, if you please.” They backed up, but he could still hear their wings flapping, just behind him. Alastor sighed. “Well, I don’t really need help with this part, but you can help clean the kitchen while the dough is rising.”

A questioning bleat.

“Yes, it will take about an hour for the dough to rise before it’s ready to fry.”

Distressed, impatient bleats.

“Well too bad, that’s how long it takes. If you wanted cheap, mass produced styrofoam coated in icing, go beg the king for some lousy carnival crap. I’m making real food.”

More bleats.

“Then you have to wait. Shoo. I’ll call you in when I need you.”

With a final huffy bleat, Razzle and Dazzle flew across the counter, though their reptilian eyes remained locked on Alastor as he poured the mixture into the flour.

[heartfullofleeches]

Could I gift c.c a custom diary I made for him? It's pink and glittery, and even has his stage name on it <3 love y/n

He reads the first entry out loud to you-

"Dear Diary,

Such a wonderful gift bae surprised me with. They're so hot and sexy and smart. How did they know I needed a new place to put all the little thoughts I have about them, and that pink it's my favorite color? Maybe it's because of the pen I'm using now. I wonder if they also know that as soon as I close you - I'm going to volt over this table and make out with them so fierce every doll I own will give me the side eye for months for the atrocities I have committed before them."

C.C quietly closes the diary and sets it on the table, eyes glowing pink as he mounts the wooden surface.

[pisupsala]

I wish I could control my dreams because a 30 year old with colorful stationary with glittery gel pens sounds like way more fun lol

Ps- he was an ass but he had his moments. I will deny any attraction if asked lol

I can't control your dreams either, dear anon, but I can write you a small drabble~ enjoy ✨ [no warnings, only fluff and glitter gel pens] ***

You are the only person Bradley knows with a pen holder in their house—a filled, regularly used pen holder, no less. The container itself is nothing special, just one of those black metal mesh cups you’ll find at any office supply store, sitting on the corner of your desk. It’s deceptive in its simplicity. It’s filled to the brim with a colorful selection of pens of all different types, although Bradley never paid much mind to it. He generally has no need to write things down—he has his phone, doesn’t he?

The first time he notices is when he meets you for dinner one evening after work; you’ve only been seeing each other for a few months. Everything is fresh and new, and you’re still learning about each other. You are dressed in the regular muted colors you wear to the office—understated, elegant. Deceptive in its simplicity. As you lean into him, hand on your chin, the sparkle in your eye as you look at him lovingly isn’t the only thing that glitters. On the side of your hand, at the crease of your wrist, the soft light of the restaurant playfully reflects from a pink glittery smudge.

“What’s that?” Bradley inquires curiously as he gently pulls your hand toward him to inspect the smudge. The moment you notice what he’s looking at, you pull your hand back, nervously rubbing your fingers over the spot, which won’t budge.

“I must have bumped into something,” You mumble, mortified. 

Bradley decides not to push you on the issue that evening, but as time passes, more parts of your glittering personality shine through. The silliness of singing together in the car, to the soft sincerity of slow-dancing in the kitchen late at night. And he keeps seeing the pale, shimmering smudges on your hands and fingers after a long day—a small reminder of the person you're really under the serious exterior you put up for work. But it takes Bradley an embarrassingly long time to figure out where those smudges are coming from; his brain seems to end up at it, probably being makeup (despite you certainly not wearing any glitter to work).

You are working late—you’re still on the phone when you climb into Bradley’s car, an annoyed look on your face, tone clipped. Your relationship is much more serious now, the months past only making your feelings deeper.

The moment your eyes meet his, you wink playfully, face breaking out into a smile. Bradley smiles back—and you have to bite your lip not to have the breath get knocked out of you. Rather, you return to your phone call, the smile immediately melting off your face as Bradley steers the car out of the company parking lot.

Digging your notebook out of your bag—a sturdy, black hardcover, you leaf through it to the page that you need, reading off the points coldly to the person on the other end of the line. Bradley glances over curiously. The page in front of you is filled with notes in simple black ink, but the margins are overflowing with patterns and doodles with what Bradley finally recognizes. It’s something buried deep inside his mind, something he hasn’t seen since the awkward days of middle school.

And suddenly, it all clicks. The smudges, the errant glitter, and even the measure of mortification that came with it: you still write with glitter gel pens. Bradley can’t help but laugh quietly as you wrap your phone call.

“What’s so funny?” You grin at him, slipping your notebook back into your bag, before you stretch languidly. 

“You,” Bradley laughs. 

“Really?” Smile on your face, you flip the visor down, using the small mirror to unpin your hair. “What did I do this time?”

“You are the only person that I know that still uses a notebook,” He starts, carefully monitoring your reaction from the corner of his eye. “It’s cute.” He adds.

“I remember important things better when I write them down rather than typing them,” You reply, relaxed now, smiling as you run your fingers through your hair. “It’s my secret weapon.”

“Especially when you use glitter gel pens for page decoration?” Bradley teases. A beat passes before you burst out laughing. 

“It makes my day a bit more colorful,” You admit. “My work is drab enough as it is.” 

“Do you send your colleagues reminders written in pretty glittery colors instead of emails?” Bradley jokes, laughing along with no.

“Absolutely not.” You defend yourself, feigning offense but unable to keep the corners of your mouth quirking up. “That’s only for truly important messages.” 

“Such as?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, I never had to write one yet.” 

It’s weeks later, when Bradley is away on a training mission, that he finds the small folded-up note safely tucked into the side pocket of his bag. Your neat looping script, in glittery pink, sending the most important message, meant only for him:

I love you.

***

Library