#Bland ahh response

[ask-harry-fitzgerald]

Hey querido...

I... Need to talk to you about something- important.

Joe's not cussing or even doing things normally in character. Tail coiled tightly around his leg, self soothing tactic. Means one thing: he found out about what Abel did to Harry.

...O-only if you want to.

- @joe-fckn-fawkes

oh? What is it?

[biteofcherry]

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

TTD Steve's POV of meeting princess for the first time? Pretty please 🥺

Thanks for sending one of these asks, Jaqui ❤️

ahh, that dark mafia Steve holding our panties hearts in his clutches 😏

Touch The Darkness Masterlist

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: none; Steve is a hot bastard; he's also dark;

Steve was used to being bored, or annoyed by people he faced. Especially people who found themselves toe to toe with him. But there was something different in the way the noses of your pale heels touched his dark boots and your eyes shone simple determination as you strained your neck to look up at him.

It wasn't bravado that he read from your body posture, rather some inner pep talk boosting your confidence to confront him.

It was that moment he realized you were completely clueless about him.

Judging by the way you moved as you walked into your office, you weren't a bold razor type of professional, who cut through the business with balls of steel.

No, you were someone who worked on maintaining your composure.

Which only made him itch to strip you of it.

Of that boring pantsuit, too. It was very chic, not some ugly piece hiding your curves, but it was so proper and bland. As if you were void of any spark.

“Please sit, Mr Rogers.” You tilted your chin up, after closing the door to your office.

Steve waited for you to reach your chair, before he sat down himself. He could be a ruthless mobster, but nowadays to run an empire as successful as his you had to also know how to play to what people expected.

Not that Steve played those games for long.

No, he entertained it to assess the opponent. Then he stroke however he deemed necessary. Usually in brutal ways.

“I’m sure you’re a busy man Mr Rogers,” you forced your jaw to relax. Another sign of you controlling the way you appeared, which Steve noticed. “So I assume your need to see me goes beyond simply wanting to meet the new director of the center.”

Ah, so you do have a spark! Steve felt a surge of wicked elation, hearing that undertone of impertinence, despite your best attempts to remain simply professional and stern.

“It does, but you are a curiosity.” He leaned back in his chair. 

“How so?” You raised an eyebrow.

His gaze didn't stray from your face, reading the way the cogs in your head had to turn with possibilities. You were probably mauling over the fact you weren't a socialite, nor a star type of a doctor who usually mingled around Starks and their alike.

Again, thinking of your appearance and all things proper. Not even considering that he could find you a curiosity for how you were not who.

“A pretty, shiny fish being dropped into a tank full of sharks and swimming through it all calm and confident.”

It wasn't meant to be a compliment. Steve, despite his sudden fascination, was clear in his intention of getting exactly what he wanted, no matter if he had to watch you shiver in response to his threat.

There it was - your back going ramrod straight and your hands falling to your lap. You were holding yourself so hard to maintain composure and not claw at him.

Which was good. If you raised your hand, as amused as Steve could be by it, he would not let you get away with it. You were not in his circle to gain any privileges of forgiveness.

Not yet, anyway.

“If you mean dealing with health care system moguls, I assure you I have experience in that." You replied, tone barely restraining the annoyance bubbling inside of you. "Managing donations for a privately based center won’t be much different than wrapping pharmaceutical companies around a finger.”

Steve grinned, entertained with your attempt to cover a shiver as you held his gaze.

“That’s not what I mean at all.” He drawled with a slight chuckle.

“What is it that you mean, then?” You huffed, once again changing the position of your hands.

Though he was tempted to push that button harder, to see you truly snap and reveal something other than bland, clueless naivety, Steve couldn't allow you to treat him like an average demanding client. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” He tilted his head to the side, adding a tone of ice to his voice. 

It was best if you learned fast that he wasn't one to play those polite back and forth games for long.

“One of Howard’s benefactors?” You swallowed nervously, while still trying to remain calm on the outside.

And Steve found himself the more annoyed with it. He needed you obedient, but he wanted you to submit while being you, not some persona you were playing.

But he didn't provoke you further, more intent on driving to the point.

“Of sort.” He replied. “I’m someone who has all of those benefactors under my thumb. As well as other people.”

Your eyes ignited with realization, though Steve assumed you were suspecting it earlier, but simply didn't accept it fully. Probably thinking that a nice, unthreatening woman like you simply couldn't find herself face to face with a mobster.

There was no rule book about dealing with someone like him. You had to scramble for defense and self-preservation instinct to continue.

“What do you want exactly?” Your voice returned to the softer tune, the slight tremble in it inaudible.

But Steve was skilled in reading signs of fear. Like a predator sensed its prey's heartbeat and scent.

He saw the little gulp. The widening of your irises. The twitch in your fingers. And found it a different kind of potent thrill for his tastes.

He wanted to keep you on edge: a little scared, a lot of shocked.

Steve wondered, if he could push you to break out of that shell and do something that he'd have to meet with an iron grip and a blade at your throat; and how you'd look at him then.   

“A lot of things,” his grin was sharp and threatening, “but now, from you? I want this place.”

Your face again showed that astonishment and clueless confusion. Steve knew there's no way you would be aware of the potential this place had, but there were other possibilities to think of. Well, at least people who grazed the grey area, or were business moguls with a lot of dirt under their carpets, would come up with some ideas.

“You want to run a health center?” You asked slowly and Steve felt his glee rising at the prospect of staining that silly light bubble you were keeping around yourself.

“Not at all.” Steve shook his head, his grin not disappearing. “The grounds it stands on are of value to me.”

He wasn't sure which aspect of it exactly did it, but he triggered your response.

That wild outburst, which stirred his cock with interest as you abruptly stood up and raised your voice at him.

“I am not going to hand over this place, robbing people in need of the help they only recently received, just because you wish to broaden your show-off territory.” You circled your desk in swift steps, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips. 

As if you could scold him, or intimidate him.

“I won’t ever sell it. Or hand it over. No!”

Steve remained seated, simply watching as realization of your own behavior dawned on you. He wondered, if you were more scared of his retaliation for yelling at him, or if you were more appalled that you didn't remain this dead statue of professionalism?

“You haven’t yet heard my offer.” His fingers clenched on the armrests.

To restrain himself from touching you. Not in violence.

Well, not in painful kind of violence...

“I’m not interested in it.” Your reply was softer and your eyes widened as you hear yourself resist further, despite what your brain had to be advising you.

“You should be.” Steve slowly stood up. 

You made a step back. Of course you did, anyone would. But when Steve followed you, crowding you against your desk, he didn't feel hunger for your blood and broken bones.

“See, I’m not the only one who will show interest in this place. Word goes around, especially in this city. Others will reach out to you, too, when they find out I’ve shown interest.” He clenched and unclenched his fingers, warming them up, though he hasn't decided yet for what. “Sooner or later. For your sake, I hope it’s too late for them.”

Steve noticed the change as he spoke. It was minimal, but telling.

The way your breath hitched as he neared and the look in your eyes flicking from fear to glimpse of need.

It was soon gone as you trembled at his approach, but Steve recognized that tread - that craving for something dark and dangerous.

Honestly, a few minutes ago, when he laid his eyes on you for the first time, Steve wouldn't suspect you hid desires for depravity.

You pushed it all down into your proper box, but you couldn't help your body reacting to the fire of annoyance mixed with fear that made you tilt your chin up defiantly.

“If it’s so desired by many, as you claim, why should I take your offer instead of others?”

Steve leaned closer, catching a whiff of your sweet scent punched up by your heightened temperature due to the rush of adrenaline.

He slowly dragged his gaze down your body and up, thinking of the nice clean cuts he'd make to those dull fabrics you wore.

“Because-” he made his voice softer and warmer, studying your face and chest for reaction- “I can protect you from them. But no one can protect you from me, Princess."

The pet name rolled out on his tongue instinctively.

It fit you so well. Your sweet, proper aura, just begging to be conquered and debauched.

“There’s no need for condescending names,” you blurted out, but it was breathy.

Steve noticed the way your breasts raised in reaction, how your arms dropped to your sides defenseless and your fingers twitched.

There was no hate for that pet name, though he expected you would rage at it later, once he left you to gather your wits.

“Condescending?” He inched even closer. He slipped his hands to rest on your desk, caging you between him and the sturdy furniture.

“A Princess is a title of a royal family’s member,” he lowered his head to catch your gaze. “You may not be connected by blood, but you are now an heiress to Stark, who has been treated like royalty for decades.”

“A Princess-” Steve moved one of his hands and brushed it along your hip- “is also a girl deserving to be spoiled.”

He didn't think of pretty gifts for you, but there were other ways to spoil a woman.

If he was to spoil you, it would be with his mouth between your thighs while your naked body shimmered with gems he boldly stole as youth.

But you'd have to earn it.

For now you gave him merely a few minutes of entertainment. Steve wanted more. He wanted the center and he was going to get it. You'd better accept the fact and comply, before he lost his patience.

“Seize the opportunity while I still consider you deserving of it.” Steve pulled back, ignoring the tilt of your body following his warmth for a split of a second.

“You can keep your center, I don’t need it locked down. But you will sign the property over to my name.” He served you the cold, unyielding tone.

“You have twenty four hours to consider. This time tomorrow, I’ll come to hear you say yes to me, Princess.”

[livelaughlovekny]

Hello!! I saw you accept requests so I have a scenario I have in mind, about Muicuiro x demon slayer reader who gave him a little notebook to write things that are important to him because he easly forget things (He might forgot that little notebook tho so the reader will write "A note for important things not to forget") but turns out almost 90% of that book is about the reader! Thanks before, have a great day!

a/n: ahh im so glad you requested this!! ive actually been planning on writing that so your request is perfectly timed oml. unfortunately, i wasnt able to form a full story about this and changed your request slightly! i still hope youll enjoy it!!

  “Tada! This is for you!” Placing a mint green notebook onto his hands, you beamed at him. “I bought this a while ago after my mission but never got the chance to pass it to you.” Muichirou flipped open the book, all the pages were blank. He looked at you quizzically. “I read about it in a book, writing things down can help you remember them better! Even if it didn’t, at least if you forgot something important, you could just refer to this notebook.”

  “I see. Thank you for your thoughtfulness.” You smiled at his bland reply before leaving. Muichirou waited until you were completely out of his line of sight before closing his estate’s door. Placing the notebook on a table, he went back out to the yard to train. When night came, he left to complete missions. The notebook and its purpose were long forgotten.

  A couple weeks later, the both of you had had another training session at the Mist Estate again.  “Thank you for training with me again!” Sitting down on the porch, you swing your feet. “How have you been? Has your memory improved?” Tilting his head to the side, Muichirou thought about it.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Aww, I was hoping that the notebook would help.”

  “Notebook?” You looked at him, blinking quickly as if to get rid of something stuck in your eye. “Yes, a few weeks ago I suggested you write down important things in the notebook I gave you. Did you lose it?” Muichirou looked as if he was enlightened. “Ah, so that was what the book was for. No, I still have it, I just forgot why you gave it to me.” It wasn’t that you expected this to happen but such things happened too often so you laughed it off. “I see, don’t worry about it. May I enter your home?” He nodded his head. You were the only one who was allowed to enter his estate, perhaps the only one who has even seen it.

  Walking towards his room, you gestured at the closed door, silently asking for permission to enter it which you received immediately. Stepping into his room, you quickly notice the notebook lying on his desk. Grabbing a pen, you wrote on the cover in your neatest handwriting. Leaning over your shoulder, Muichirou read the words aloud, “‘Important Things “smiley face”’.” You looked up and smiled at him. “There you go! Now you won’t forget what this book is for!” Muichirou hummed slightly in response. “Thank you. I’ll try my best to use it to its full potential.” You laughed. 

  Again, he watched you wave goodbye to him and walk away until you were no longer visible. He turned back and sat down in front of his desk. He picked up the pen you used and flipped to the first page of the notebook. He stared at it, wondering what to write. He decided to write the date in the top left corner. He placed the pen down and continued staring at the blank page. There was nothing important to note down at the moment. Muichirou tried recalling his memories, deciding that whatever he remembered was at least important enough to be remembered. The only thing that formed in his mind was your smile and laugh. 

  Not wanting to scribble on the date and wait till next time to write down something else, he decided that writing about you will do for now. “Nice smile and laugh.” He felt uncomfortable writing down your name. A weird feeling would rise up within his chest. Closing the notebook, Muichirou decided that he was done writing for the day and went to the yard to train.

  A few days later, he received a letter from you. The both of you would send each other letters and you usually write about your missions and days while Muichirou would write back just to acknowledge your letters and offer advice if you asked for it. This time, you were writing about how you came across a night fair after a mission, saw the “cutest fox shaped hair piece ever” and enjoyed the “best tasting castella cake ever” and how you wished that the both of you and the other Hashiras could participate in a night fair together. 

  Folding the letter neatly, Muichirou placed the letter in a drawer where he kept your letters. After sending his response, he sat at his desk for a while before taking out his notebook. He flipped to the next empty page. He wrote the date on the top left corner like before. “Likes foxes and castella. Wants everyone to go to night fairs.” Tilting his head to the side, Muichirou wondered what else to add on. Pulling open the drawer where he kept your letters, he took some recent ones out and read them, noting down the parts where you expressed your likes and dislikes. He could practically hear your voice reading them aloud.

  “I was fighting this really mean demon that attacks with flesh-eating slugs. I hate slugs now. I did see a slug-shaped cloud, that wasn’t bad. Cloud gazing is calming, you should try it! You probably do already.”

  “Dandelions are so fun! I finished a mission and on the way back, I walked past a dandelion field. The way they flew was so cool!! I ran around and they all started flying and it was so pretty! I think you might like it too!”

  “You would not believe what I found: a four-leaf clover!! Four-leaf clovers are really rare and lucky and they’re my favourite colour! In case you forgot the colour, it’s green. Green is such a soothing colour! Your hair and eyes are really nice to look at.”

  Carefully reading through your letters multiple times to ensure he didn’t miss out on anything, Muichirou forgot about his daily training. And for the next few days, he would anticipate your letters more than usual, excited to find out more things about you. So as per usual, he gently unfolded the letter he received and read it.

  “…Oh right, are you noting down the important things in the notebook I gave you? If you are, let me know if you think your memory has improved!!”

  “I have been writing down important things and am able to remember them better. Thank you. Would you like to cloud gaze with me after the Hashira meeting next week? I took up your suggestion and did enjoy it.”

Bonus: “The Mist Hashira has sent you a letter!” Smiling at your crow, you thanked it and untied the envelope from its leg. It was rare for him to use an envelope since the both of you only used one to deliver small items. Gently opening the envelope, you find a note and something neatly wrapped. You pick up both items. “Saw this the other day.” Undoing the green wrapping paper, you realised that Muichirou had sent you a fox hair clip.

a/n: wahh i think the "bonus" i write at the end of fics are just time skips since im bad at writing them :'( i tried to not write about mui thinking of you as important and you thinking and caring for him too obviously to show the light-heartedness of your relationship but i think i just kept telling and not showing ahh i hope you guys liked this ohmygosh this is turning into a mini rant

[ask-fan-ii]

ai ahh responses 😭

What?! Are you saying I’m uncreative?? If you think my text is bland enough to call it artificial, well- then you can simply just leave!! Don’t like my blog? Don’t read. I type however I want to, thank you. :/

[cloudcountry]

Hi, thank you for sharing all of your writing with us! I love reading it and you have a great style. <3

If Floyd still feels like doing his after party naming could I ask him for one of me?

I am an artist and a writer but I don't have much self confidence so it's hard for me to share my art sometimes. I read constantly and love romance and happy endings (because the world can just be a cold place). I also really like frilly girly things and pink is my favorite color. I'm ace and pretty oblivious but I love my close friends and would commit murder for my little sister if she asked. I love animals and would love to be an outdoor person but I'm terrified of spiders (I internalized the 'never more than 8 feet away from a spider at any time' when I was a kid and that was that.) I really enjoy Twisted Wonderland because of the amazing character designs (it makes all other otome games look so bland!) and even though Disney is the devil I can't let go of my childhood nostalgia and love of it and so TWST is a wonderful evolution that I can enjoy older while still holding onto that. I really really don't like being in crowded areas and hate overly loud places. I love rainy days (I genuinely think they are beautiful and they make me happy). I can get very hyper focused (I think I'm ADHD or on the spectrum but I've never gotten a confirmation of that) on things that I like/enjoy but it takes a lot to force me to do something I don't want to do. I'm really cuddly with people I love and I genuinely feel like I'm a nice/friendly person but if anyone messed with my sister or friends I would have no problem body slamming them or committing homicide if needed.

(sorry I don't really have anything super interesting that stands out like the others do so I hope it's not too difficult)

Thank you and I hope you and Floyd have a great time!

"ahh! the little sea bunny is so cute." floyd's voice is pitchy and delighted as he smiles.

the debtor hums in response, a small smile on their face.

"floyd gave you this nickname because of your soft demeanor. you're a friendly person and are really cuddly with the people you love, which makes a lot of people at nrc think of you as cute. however, your willingness to protect the people you love also earns you this nickname, since sea bunnies are incredibly toxic to predators that try to eat them."

[thelittledeer]

Twitter makes me want to rip my eyebrows off, but not for the typical reasons. It's not Elon Musk or the activists, though both are an ongoing irritation. The reason I'm ready to yeet it into the void is this,

And this

And this

And can't forget this useless tweet.

Or these beauties

My entire homefeed has become an endless slew of pointless questions with the same pointless energy of "when was the last time you ate a banana?" for no reason other than to drive up engagement to boost themselves in the algorithm. Someone described it as "first date energy" and I'd like to add "first date in highschool" energy.

It's shallow, vapid, and incredibly annoying. These tweets get literal thousands of responses as the poster basks in their sudden boost of visibility in an otherwise indifferent algorithm, but they couldn't care less about the answers.

And to be honest, I was stupid enough to fall for it. Everyone asked stupid questions, I gave heartfelt answers, all I got for divulging personal information was a single stupid like. I wanted actual interaction and connection, they wanted a boost. I was used. It was a game I slowly lost interest in playing. I take surveys as a side gig and I'm not answering these ridiculous questions unless I'm paid to. Peace, suckers.

Aside from the questions Twitter has this undercurrent energy present that's like being accepted into a high school clique, you're there only because you're allowed to be there. So long as you mind the rules, follow the script, and so help you do NOT stand out, you'll survive. If you dare say anything considered unsavory or heaven forbid "problematic" you're the next subject of a witch hunt by the righteous Cancel Crew, who will slaughter you in your bed as they claim to be warriors of justice.

I was a good little follower. I kept my opinions to myself, never responded in any way except positively, never engaged in any kind of drama. I turned into a bland little copy and paste Twitter git who bowed to the outspoken overlords.

I'm tired of keeping quiet, so here are the opinions I kept to myself,

- Good story-telling is more important than bland diversity and representation

- If you have a well-written character, it doesn't matter what race, sexuality or religion they are, people will adore them for being well-written

- The Rings of Power is a terribly written show that is an insult to writers everywhere (and I have waaay more to say about this later)

- Star Wars is a brand used to boost political propaganda not story-telling

- The phrase "strong female character" makes me reel from a story like dog from its vomit

- A writer should be able to tell the story they want to tell without being forced to include "current year" politics for fear of being labelled as an "ist" or a "phobe" they should be allowed to let these things exist naturally within their own world

And just because I'm feeling incredibly petty here are some more delightful questions for dishonorable mention. These are ALL from today, just a few casual scrolls into my homefeed, bask in the glory of the mindless, algorithm-boosting insanity.

Oh THIS is a real popular one and shows up almost every day from various accounts.

Ahh, that felt good. Farewell Twitter, you introduced me to some good people, but I will not miss your incessant whining, the endless questions, or the insatiable popularity game.

[prolix-yuy]

Congratulations!!!!!

Any loveliness from Below the Line?

Oooh, what a fun request! I gave myself a wild card for this one, so I hope you enjoy what's come out of it!

Home

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader Production Designer (from Below the Line)

Summary: Coming home to Dieter Bravo is a more eventful affair than you thought.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, allusions to sexual acts, PiV sex, some sweetness for my sweets.

Notes: This was the only question I still had for these two after they gallivanted off into the sunset together. It was fun to come back and see them after some time away (and some experiments with other iterations of Dieter).

The door slowly opening against your palm has begun to elicit a Pavlovian response in you. The moment you step out of the taxi and lug your suitcases up to the entryway you can feel it. 

Home.

You’re home.

You never thought you’d feel quite this happy to have a place to call home.

Technically, it’s Dieter’s house, but after The Transformation shoot, he took you to it. Practically dragged you inside when your nerves locked up your knees, and showed you around. It was definitely the home of an actor; furniture too modern and clean to be sat on long, bland art on the walls, mess in the corners where you assumed Dieter actually lived. When you finally looked at him he was almost bashful, large hand scrubbing at the back of his neck as he grimaced.

“I could probably use a production designer to make it a little more…homey,” he admitted. 

“Ahh I see now, you’re just with me to get some free interior design,” you teased, letting him pull you into his arms. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and rubbed his nose into your hairline.

“I’ve been caught! Took you long enough to realize,” he retorted. “But seriously, I don’t know who decided on this but it wasn’t me.” You both laughed about the hotel-esque decor before he took you to bed, and amongst the words he rasped against your skin, the most careful ones are, “Yours, everything here is yours, I’m yours.”

You had a few weeks of downtime between projects, so redecorating Dieter’s home became a pet project. Dieter sat with your design books and pointed out what he liked most - natural woods, earth tones, some subtle mysticism and art that he gets to pick out (or make himself). 

Painting the stark white walls was your first task, exchanging them for greens and ochres, deep navy and sandstone. The floors you left alone, the stripey bamboo planks at least adding dimension if not charm. Dieter found you on a ladder edging the ceiling and joked about deja vu. This time, however, when you dismounted the ladder he was waiting at the bottom with a sandwich, which you ate with appreciation, and his hot mouth, which he ate you with appreciation all his own. 

Your goodbye with Dieter was short as you left for the month-long gig in Nevada. Neither of you quite knew how to do this yet, this strange open thing you agreed to when he took you home. It felt easy when you were together, but this was the first time you’d be apart and expected to come back at the end.

“Text me? Or call. Yeah, calls would be nice,” Dieter stumbled, an endearing smile on his face as you waited for the Uber to pick you up.

“All the time. When I’m not pulling my hair out, of course,” you replied. Your palms were sweaty. Why were you nervous?

“Good thing I think bald is sexy too,” Dieter snarked, little huffs of laughter between you as the black car pulled up. You endured the quiet shuffle of getting the bags in the car, another person now a witness to your conversation. Standing in front of Dieter, you smiled brightly up at him.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, wrapping your arms around him for a hug. He enveloped you, tucking his face into your neck and breathing you in deeply.

“See you soon,” he repeated, giving you a kiss on the cheek before pulling away. You hovered, waiting, but the nerves won out and he let you go to get into the car.

The shoot went well, you acting as the location manager for a small part of a larger film. It wasn’t prestigious but it was work, and work that paid well and didn’t drive you too crazy. You and Dieter texted, and called, but it all felt like an awkward first date when you finally got on the phone. Your relationship was never built on structure and routine, and forcing it now made your interactions strangely stilted. Not unpleasant, or boring, just…a pantomime of what your life is truly like with him. Phone calls don’t capture the comfort of cuddling on the couch, or laughing until you can’t breathe while Dieter makes a raw chicken dance.

You began to worry this wouldn’t work, that for you both to find happiness with each other you’d have to be together, and that meant one of you working around the other. Clearly it would be you, since Dieter was more successful. Resentment at this possibility bubbled in your chest. 

“Is this working?” you finally asked Dieter over Facetime. He’d just swallowed a piece of sushi, you picking at your cold noodles, as you let him contemplate your question.

“This as in…us doing the long-distance thing?” he asked, and you shrugged your shoulders quietly. The clatter of chopsticks and slide of the plastic carton gave you Dieter’s undivided attention. 

“It’s weird, right?” he said conspiratorially, and the tension you felt melts away a fraction. 

“Fuck, yes,” you laughed. “I feel weird telling you my day! And like, pretending this is normal. I know it is, it just…doesn’t feel normal for us.” The truth released the weight on your chest as Dieter folded his hands and rested his chin on them.

“So why are we trying to be people we aren’t?” he asked. You chewed your lip thoughtfully. “Obviously this thing we’re doing - the routine, the planned calls and such - it’s not us. So let’s do us then.” The hopefulness in his eyes swelled happiness in your chest. 

You stopped scheduling lunches and dinners and “how was your day” calls. Instead you call Dieter when you see a cute dog, or after a dinner where someone mentioned they liked one of his films. You tell him when you have a big win, and vent when you’re frustrated. And Dieter listens, and shouts, and laughs along with you. In return you let him bitch about his agent, who he pretends to dislike but cares about above anyone else who works for him. He sends you photos of rugs he wants to get, plants he likes but are too high-maintenance, and various stages of his art in progress. 

It’s just what you both needed to get through the last few weeks. 

When you arrived back at Dieter’s house, he was waiting on the threshold for you, sporting his black Crocs, a pair of gray sweatpants and an oversized white shirt as he jogged up to the Uber. Helping get your bags out of the car, he even autographed the driver’s takeout receipt before waving him off. 

You moved to go inside, in desperate need of a shower and to get out of your travel clothes, but Dieter wrapped a hand around your wrist and pulled you close.

“I messed up,” he murmured, cupping your face with one hand. Your stomach dropped to your knees, panic spiking in your chest. What happened while you were gone?

He brushed his prominent nose against yours, heaving out a sigh as he snaked an arm around your back.

“You left, and I didn’t kiss you goodbye,” he said, and you barked out a relieved laugh.

“Jesus Christ, Dieter, you scared the shit out of me,” you scolded, but before you could say anything else he captured your lips and kissed you messily, breathlessly. It’s all you could do to hang on as he licked into you, tasting of something salty-sweet. He pawed at your ass, the back of your neck, and if you let him he’d probably have laid you out on the asphalt and fucked you right then. 

“Dieter, hey, I just got back, we’ve got time,” you gasped out, his mouth relenting against yours but moving down your neck instead. Teeth scraped against your skin as you stroked through his wild curls and down his back. He dotted a few smaller kisses along your shoulder before meeting your eyes again.

“Okay, new routine,” he decreed, pulling you towards the open front door. “When either of us gets home from being gone, first thing we do is take a shower together.” You chuckled, but the soft eagerness warmed you as he led you into his home - now much more your home as well - and urged you towards the ensuite bathroom. “I hate how shitty you feel after a flight, or a long ride, so we’ll wash all that off first. Then we order takeout, have a glass of something to take the edge off, and we watch something incredibly mindless on TV.” You entered the bathroom, now decorated with draping plants and a forest green glass tile that must have been installed while you were away. The river rock floor gently massaged your sore feet as Dieter slipped his hands under your shirt to pull it over your head.

“Had some time to think about this?” you teased, peeling Dieter’s own shirt off of him. His skin was soft and plush against your fingers, and you leaned in to press a kiss above his heart. 

“Time to realize we’ve been going about this all wrong,” he reasoned, sliding his palms under your waistband and dragging you leggings down your thighs, sinking to the floor with them. You stepped out of the material as Dieter palmed the back of your thighs. “Don’t care about the routine when we’re away. I care about celebrating when we get back.” He pressed a kiss just under your bellybutton and stood back up. Your heart was racing, hands needy as you pulled him back to your mouth and indulged in his reverence.

“After all that we’ll see how we’re feeling, and if we have any energy when we get into bed we’ll make each other feel very…very…good before falling asleep.” He punctuated the second “very” with a stroke of his fingers over your core, swirling lazily over your clit to punch a gasp out of your chest. 

“If we aren’t already tired out from fucking ourselves silly in the shower,” he amended, making you laugh against his smiling mouth.

So that became your “routine.” Time spent away was treated as fleeting, and time spent together cherished. Which is why when you open the door after a two week conference, traveler bag in hand, you wilt briefly that he’s not there in the foyer waiting for you. You, or he, always are, ready to help the other unwind. But not this time.

A string of soft curses lilts down from upstairs, and you venture up to investigate. The noise seems to be coming from the bedroom, which you enter tentatively. The sight you encounter instantly brings a smile to your eyes.

Dieter Bravo, famous movie star, your…boyfriend? You never really put a name on it. But Dieter struggles to put a pillowcase on what looks like the ninth pillow piled at the head of the bed. When he hears the door open he whips around, eyes a little wild and sheepish.

“Shit, I thought I had more time,” he says with a grimace, tossing the half-clothed pillow back onto the bed. 

“What’s all this?” you ask, gesturing at the room. It was one of the last places you deigned to decorate, being the most intimate in the home. Apparently, Dieter took it upon himself to surprise you. 

“Sorry, I wanted it to be all done before you got here but…how do we have so many pillows?” he sputters, and the twin pang of laughter and sentimentality at the casual use of “we” propels you further into the room.

The bedding he’s fighting is luxurious, mauve with cream accents and a plush comforter thrown over top. He’s brought in a new rug, soft and thick under your feet. The modern furniture that was littering the room has been replaced with dark natural woods, walnut and buttery soft under your fingers. He’s carefully arranged all of your bedtime items - your clock, jewelry dish, bottle of water - and added a little folded card. You scoot over to pick it up, opening the single fold with ease. There in his scrawly script are the two words that melt the outside world away.

Welcome home.

Dieter’s arms circle you from behind and turn you to look at the wall across from the bed.

“That’s my favorite part,” he whispers in your ear.

Hanging on the wall, easily a four by four foot canvas, is a Dieter original. You know it, recognize his brushstrokes and composition instantly. You also recognize the scene, making a small ball form in your throat.

Two people lying face down in bed, one draped over the other’s back as if trying to press them into the mattress. It’s a close up of just their bare arms and backs, the man’s larger limbs framing the woman’s. Their fingers are intertwined messily, folds of sheets creating hills and valleys around them. You recognize the pose instantly. It’s one you’ve found yourself in often, whether after lovemaking or in the early hours of the morning when Dieter presses himself against your back and slips his fingers between yours. 

“Welcome home,” Dieter says again, but it means more than “I’m happy to see you” or “I missed you.” It feels like the most Dieter way to say “I love you.”

He does shower with you, searching for permission in your eyes before hoisting you up around his waist and thrusting into you long and slow to chase your orgasms. He orders takeout, pizza and whiskey on the rocks, a gin and tonic for you. You eat lazily while watching Shark Tank and laughing at the more ridiculous inventions. Then he takes you to bed, and after you cum with a hand in his hair and nails scraping down his chest you bask in how pretty he looks with his teeth clenched and neck straining, your name a prayer on his lips. 

And then, after all that, he turns you on your stomach and curls along your back, sliding his sticky palm up your arm to lace your fingers together. Life imitating art only a few feet away. You let out a deep, contented sigh as he presses a kiss against your shoulder.

“Welcome home,” he whispers huskily.

And you are.

You’re home.

END

[daddyhausen]

Can we get a smut imagine of jay white with a sub significant other

ahh of course !! i’ve been craving dom jay recently ! 😩

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

• the blade draws your fate — jay white •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — smut, 18+ { minors do not interact }, knife play, vaginal insertion { handle }, mild blood play/blood drinking, submissive/dominant dynamic, bondage, restraints, mild injury, marking, hickeys, oral sex { f receiving }, fingering, nipple play, squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, male + female orgasm, creampie

{ word count } — 1.5k

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist

the sensation was an odd one to say the least, you’d never expect the feeling of silk to be so restrictive, yet here you were. limbs spread before his gaze, tied to the painted white oak posts of your bed frame by striking, burgundy red silk, the material seemed to contrast against the bleakness of bland white throughout your bedroom. his frame seemed to loom over you, an unmistakable dominance towering over your seemingly helpless body. he stood naked before you, his skin glossy with sweat underneath the dull glow of the moonlight, chest heaving with laboured breaths from having previously pleasured himself to your tied-up state.

“stop squirming, princess…” he mumbled with a cold breath against your ear lobe, his voice a far contrast to what you were used to. your eyes peered up for a moment, meeting his gaze, following the silhouette of his body through the darkness, noticing the switchblade that rested lazily in his palm, casually waving the blade around as if it were some time of wand. “it’ll only make your restraints tighter”

he licked a hot stripe against your earlobe, one which left your body shuddering with want, tracing the tip of the switchblade against the soft silk of your restraints, trailing ever so lightly down the tops of your forearms, across your biceps, softly digging into the flesh just above your clavicle, a small hiss leaving your lips as it lightly pierced your skin. his tongue traced circles around the small crimson droplet, sucking at the skin until your blank canvas was marked in a dull purple hue, humming softly as he licked the flesh clean, savouring the metallic sweetness on his taste buds, responding with a exhilarated shudder, followed by a deep moan.

he continued to trace the tip of the blade into your skin, from your clavicle it travelled down the valley of your breast, swirling around the supple mounds of flesh, teasing your perky nipple, hard as they were exposed to the icy steel. you gave a small whine in response, he merely chuckled at the sigh, having already positioned himself between your thighs, continuing the delicious torture that the blade, and he, provided you.

“sir…” you whimpered, feeling the tip of the switchblade meet at the axis of your hip. he peered up for a second, keeping the blade poised at your skin yet halting its movements. he stared down at you questioningly, cocking his head to the side as a silent “what?” in response.

“please…” you could barely mutter out, having barely been stimulated, yet you already felt such intense pleasure coursing through you. you wanted more, needed more than the touch of the blade, you needed him.

“tell me what you want, princess…” his new zealand drawl left seductively from his lips, bending over to toy with your perky nipples, taking your left one between his index finger and thumb, twisting and pinching slightly. you remained silent, no words able to leave your lips or form in your mind. he removed the blade from the axis of your hip, slowly dragging it up your stomach before placing it down gently on the bed beside you. his lips latched onto your other nipple, swirling the hardened nub around his tongue. gently moaning against you, his teeth nibbling softly against it, pulling slightly as he let go for a moment.

“do you want me to fuck you until your legs are numb? is that what you want?” you could only whimper at his proposition, shallow gasps for breath as his teeth tugged at your nipple once more. his fingers gingerly slid down your waist, resting against your hips, his nails lightly clawing at the supple flesh. his erect cock teasing your inner thigh momentarily.

“or, shall i tease your pretty cunt? get you all nice and wet for me before i ruin you?” he pulled himself away for a second, his teeth unlatching from your now swollen nipple. he retrieved the switchblade from beside you, still having himself positioned between your thighs, he shuffled down the bed, his lips now parallel with your soaked core, his cool breath teasing your clit. “i think i like the second option better, don’t you agree, princess?”

“y-yes, sir” you whimpered as the cool touch of the blade met your skin, the tip like frozen metal teasing as he traced it around your outer walls with feather-like movements. he licked a hot stripe against your clit, leaving you shuddering at the sudden contact. he moaned into your cunt, seeming intoxicated, possessed even by your taste. if only your hands were not bound, you’d just love to run your fingers through his dark strands, tugging slightly as his eyes met yours.

he had flipped the switchblade around, the steel now graced his palm, the handle swirling gentle circles around your dripping entrance. you whined softly as he slowly began to push the handle past your soaked folds, slipping in so easily into your warmth. the sensation was odd, new, but you welcomed it, it felt more thrilling with the additional pleasure of his lips wrapped around your clit.

“how does it feel, princess?” he cooed, his voice filled with an unmistakable vocal fry, the sound causing vibrations to ripple against your clit. you whimpers filled the air, like small hymns out of the mouth of an angel. he adored the sound.

“s-so good…” his tongue increased the speed of its movements at the sound of your response, the handle of the switchblade seeming to sink deeper into your cunt the more wetter you got. you heeded his words from earlier, trying not to thrash around so much, already feeling some restrain from the ties that bound your wrist. your hips slowly beginning to buck up against his tongue, he eventually pried the handle from your dripping void, placing it beside your thigh for now, instead replacing it with his fingers to draw out your orgasm more easily.

you felt his fingers curl deep within your cunt, your walls clenching around his digits, craving the friction. his teeth twirled your swollen clit, gently nipping on the sensitive bundle of nerves, much like he did your nipples before. he felt your body stiffen for a moment, your thighs shaking slightly with every pump of his fingers, every twirl of his tongue.

“that’s it princess, make a mess for me.” he growled against your clit, sinking his fingers deeper within your cunt, their pace increasing steadily. “let our neighbours know who your pussy belongs to”

your moans filled the room loudly, the tightness of your restraints increased with each movement you made. your back arched, pleasure flooding through you, it was as if you had just been struck by a tidal wave, the feeling, it was bliss, it was euphoria, it was everything. he moaned softly against your clit, drinking in your sweetness as it coated his tongue and fingers. once your high had ceased, he retracted his fingers from your void, placing them to your lips, allowing you to sample your sweetness with a small, pleasurable moan.

he gave you no chance to even catch your breath, for by the time you’d even regained some sort of thought process back, his cock was already buried deep within your walls, enjoying the gentle thrums and pulses of your cunt from your aforementioned orgasm.

“god your so fucking wet, princess” he groaned, burying himself to the hilt inside your cunt. “so fucking wet for me…”

he slowly began to move his hips, his cock stretching your walls so deliciously, he kept his body close, practically hovering over you. he leaned in, retrieving switchblade for a third time, beginning to drag it across the mark he had left on your collarbone previously, the small droplet once coagulated, now oozing with fresh crimson.

“you always looked so good in red…” he mumbled against your lips, referring to the crimson droplet that began to drip down your left breast. you whined, the liquid was somewhat soothing against your skin, an odd sensation that you could not quite put your finger on, but enjoyed nonetheless, accompanied by the pleasure his cock provided between your thighs, the cool sting of the switchblade, it was pure eroticism.

“g-gonna c-cum, sir…” you stuttered through choked gasps, the blade leaving a small laceration atop your left breast, one to which he allowed his tongue to slowly mop up the metallic liquid, leaving a burgundy trail across your pristine skin.

“good girl, cum around my cock…” he growled, his own orgasm nearing, his cock aching, practically begging for release. you gave him no warning at first, spilling over into your second orgasm of the night. he soon followed, his hot cum filling your cunt with such unbridled warmth, dripping down your thighs as he continued to fuck his seed deep into your cunt.

his body almost collapsed atop yours, having stabilised himself on his hands to prevent it, his breath heavy and ragged. He reached up, switchblade in hand, haphazardly freeing your wrists from the silk ties. he noticed the crimson painting across your chest smirking to himself at the wonderful artwork he had created.

“why don’t we get you cleaned up, princess?” he suggested, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “and how about we go for round two in the shower?”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

This is a funny episode to me. Back when I was obsessed with Seasons 1 and 2 and struggling to warm up to 3, I thought this episode was the worst. (Or at least pretty cringey.)

Now that I've conquered 3-6 and am even venturing into The Forbidden Realms beyond... all the sudden "Trust Thomas" doesn't look so bad, haha.

Also, I appreciate getting to just think about the episode on its own. When I don't think about it in the context of Season 3, I have a lot less to object to.

But I'll never really be over James having tricked Thomas just like six episodes before with a blatant lie and now he does it again.

And Thomas falls for it again. *headdesk*

Season 3 just cheesed me off with this whole thing where "and this episode Gordon and/or James are going to be awful in *spins wheel of caprice* this way." Like yes, they usually do cause conflict, but it just seemed really silly in Season 3. Gordon is throwing tantrums about *checks notes* not wanting a wash-down? WTF?? And James skivving off work? Ehhhh, they just got typecast.

And then Thomas is just this smiling bland innocent... pah!

That said, I do buy that Thomas has plenty of cheery sunshiny days as well as his grumbley ones. I also do love the notion of a story called "Trust Thomas" because I do buy that he wants and needs to be relied upon to be "the fixer" very badly.

Also I think this is where his RWS backstory as the most senior engine on this railway comes in handy. That motivation makes sense of his Season 3 behavior of Wise and Angelic Tank Engine Role Model. When TVS portrays Thomas as "the kid" on the cast, however, it just becomes kind of weird and depressing. (Sometimes kids do act like parents but that's not a good thing, ugh.)

All my venting aside, there are things enough to like in this episode. Thomas's accident is ridiculous, but memetic—it was always fascinating to watch as a kid though the contrast between this bit of incredible silly and the artistry of "The Flying Kipper," oof, let's not think about that now.

I also always felt warm and fuzzy at the glimpse of Thomas and Edward interaction here. It's so much lighter a touch than the in-your-face "MENTORING" of TAB and the subsequent CGI development of that relationship. This is one of the few scenes that I think works well in Season 3, where Thomas is... well, basically going around acting like Edward. It makes sense that in this context that sometimes he still has to turn around and get some comfort and support himself!

I feel like we don't talk about Gordon's canonical recommendation to Sir Handel to feign illness enough, so I'm glad "Trust Thomas" gives that tendency more visibility. Like, surely this implies that Gordon himself has done this? Where is the fic on these instances?? When did he do this??? Am I to suppose that he got away with it???? (coz otherwise he wouldn't recommend this course of action to his mini-mes... right?)

Ahh, this response is a mess, sorry. Anyway, it's impossible to end this without a link to @shinygoku's improved version.

[amane-by-together]

Crème Brûlée || Hanako-kun

part two of crème brûlée

genre: lime

pairing: vampire!hanako x female guest! reader

summary: [name] is now settled in the ghost hotel after being offered by hanako to stay with him. one night, after hanako had finished his errands, he decided to visit [name] in her room. getting messy with hanako during the night doesn't seem so bad after all.

warning: heated content, blood, groping and biting (stay away if ya ain't comfy)

Hanako smiled in satisfaction, finishing the last of his errands for the night since he didn't get to do it while having dinner. He can finally take a break from his duties. It was a tough day managing the hotel's maintenance as they will accommodate the needs of their guests.

As night falls, Hanako can't help but to feel in his intuition that there's something missing. Dinner felt really boring because he just ate some bland food that doesn't even reach his taste buds. The last time he had a good feed was when he licked off the blood on [Name]'s lips.

A smirk spreads across his face, remembering the night before. Hanako had a mental image of [Name] softly calling his name, begging him to make her his. The thought excites him more, constantly being betrayed by needy thoughts about [Name].

Her blood, lips, neck and chest, he wanted them all to himself. Hanako bit his lip, his mind flooding with such sinful thoughts. He stood up from his seat, grabbing a candle holder and lighting up the candles.

Hanako left his quarters and closed the door. He roamed around the silent hallways of the floor, aiming the flame of the candle on his path to see where he was going. It seems that the guests have fallen to rest.

The sound of thunder boomed loudly and the lightning flashes through the glass window from Hanako's peripheral vision. It seems that the storm was still there, maybe it'll take a day or two for it to pass.

'Hopefully she's still awake.' Hanako stopped in front of the door to [Name]'s room. He raised his gloved hand and knocked gently to the wooden door. "May I come in?"

"Just a second~!" [Name] yelled slightly in response, probably organizing some things inside. "You may come in."

Hanako opened the door as it creaked, revealing himself while holding the candleholder. "Good evening." He greeted with a gentle smile. "Thank you for letting me in."

"Good evening to you too, Hanako-kun." [Name] addressed with a sweet tone. Hanako eyed her soft lips, and then the clothes she was wearing; an off-shoulder white dress with lacy sleeves. His amber eyes landed on the glimpse of her cleavage through her dress.

'Now that's a nice view~' Hanako slightly smirked at the sight in front of him, licking the side of his lip. He wanted to lower that dress to see more, but he must lure his prey in before completely trapping her under him. [Name] waited for Hanako to talk, it seems that he's busy staring at her with ogling eyes.

"Um, Hanako-kun?" [Name] waves her hand in front of the male to snap out of his trance. Hanako blinked and its like his breath was taken by her. "Are you alright?" She asked with concern.

"I'm alright." Hanako replied immediately, closing the door behind him and hung his cape by the coat hanger. "I recently finished my duties and ate dinner, honestly the food is bland and it has slight flavor in it so technically I haven't been eating well..."

Hanako suddenly feels light headed as his cheeks flushed, feeling intoxicated towards [Name]. He darts behind her, placing his gloved hand on top of hers and intertwined their hands. [Name]'s cheeks went red at the sudden action. "You smell really sweet tonight..." Hanako inhaled her scent as he puts his arm around her waist.

"H-Hanako—" [Name] stuttered, her knees turning weak because of Hanako. It reminded her back when they first made out in her room, and something tells her that it's happening again.

"Sorry sweetheart, I can't help it~" Hanako whispered, his breath lingering against her ear as if she can feel his lips on that part. "But you look really hot right now..."

[Name]'s heart raced inside her chest. She looks like a scared bunny that is about to be hunted by a hungry wolf. "H-Hanako-kun~" Hanako started to kiss her neck gently as a start. "Right there..."

Hanako softly nibbles at the spot, turning it into a small hickey. There's no backing away now, Hanako was about to dig in to his dessert in front of him. Hanako spins [Name] around before kissing her, looping an arm around her torso then putting his hand on the back of her hair to caress her locks. "Mmm~"

[Name] puts her arms around his neck, tugging Hanako closer. Her fingers sliding in between his choppy locks and taking off his hat. Hanako grows even more eager by licking her bottom lip in which she opens her mouth slightly, letting him slide his tongue inside. 'Ahh, her mouth feels warm.' Hanako thought as he swirled his tongue gently with hers. 'I can't stop kissing her...'

Hanako couldn't pull away from [Name], even if he did, he'll end up wanting more from her. [Name] can feel herself melting against the kiss, her legs weakening and her mind turning foggy with neediness. Both of them slowly pulled away with a string of drool hanging from their tongues, staring at each other with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes. "Do you have anything to do after this?" [Name] asks while panting softly.

"Other than you? Not really, how about you?" Hanako bounces a question back to [Name] in which she shakes her head no. Hanako bit his lip, he looked kinda hot while doing that. "I guess it's just you and me tonight~"

Then, an idea came to his mind. Hanako glances at [Name] suggestively. "Wanna get messy with me?~" he asks, holding her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "Like how things were getting messy last time?~"

[Name] blushed, looking down on her feet. Hanako chuckles lowly at her demeanor, she has always been sweet and shy towards the male. "I wonder how long would it take till I turn you into a mewling mess~" he teased with a playful expression and a glimpse of his fangs were showing. "Hmmm~"

"I would appreciate it if you stop teasing me..." [Name] can feel her whole face getting hotter.

"But I like teasing you dear~" Hanako implied with a cheeky smile as he booped her nose. "You're so cute I could just eat you out~"

[Name] raises her palms and places her fingertips against Hanako's lips. She shyly glances away from the vampire and muttered. "H-Hanako-kun, that's really needy of you..."

"Weren't you needy for me too?" Hanako gently yanks her hands away from his lips and then putting them around his neck as he reeled the maiden closer. "I can feel your lips mumbling for more, you know~" He says, grinning charmingly.

"Let's just continue..." [Name] blurts in with a nervous smile. Hanako tugs her closer in a kiss as [Name] eagerly kissed back. Hanako makes the kiss even more heated by moving his lips sloppily with hers.

Hanako moves [Name] to her bed, not breaking away from her lips. They both fell on the mattress while they were kissing and now Hanako was on top of her as she was underneath him. "Mmmm~ Hanako~"

"[Name], more..."

[Name] parted her lips as Hanako slips his tongue inside of her once again, exploring her wet cavern and leaves nothing unlicked. The sheets turned messy at each movement they make. Hanako pulls back, brushing his hair to the side with a smirk. "I barely did anything and you're already a hot mess~"

"Hmm~ I think I'm still needy." Hanako removes his gloves slowly with the use of his teeth. His amber eyes trailing down to her neck and chest, eyeing them with hunger causing him to lick the side of his lips. "Maybe tasting you again won't be such a bad idea~"

"What do you think? Will you let me have a taste?~"

"I don't mind, I guess..."

"Then, what if I needed more?~"

[Name] squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away. "I'm just gonna take a tiny sip on each bite, I won't turn you into a raisin, don't worry." Hanako chuckled at her reaction, running his fingers down to her neck. "Just hold my hand again if you feel scared."

"Please be gentle..." [Name] pleaded.

"I'll try not to make it deep." Hanako assured her in which the latter nodded gravely. Hanako hooks his finger to her sleeves and lowering it down to get a better view.

"Why did you lower my dress down?" [Name] asks, feeling a little embarrassed since she's showing too much skin. "I-It feels weird..."

"It's kinda sexy~" Hanako replied with a wink and then stared at her top half. "Besides, I can see your chest better this way~"

"H-Hanako—" Hanako cuts her off by planting a soft kiss on her neck to stop her from talking. [Name] gives in too much when it comes to Hanako like an insect waltzing to a spider's web on purpose.

Not that she's complaining. [Name] is letting Hanako bite her, letting him taste her blood that excites his taste buds. She can feel him breathing against her neck. "Okay, I'll start now..."

A small squeak escapes from her lips as [Name] felt his fangs sinking down her skin, then pulling away with a bit of blood on his teeth. Hanako starts to suck the blood that is coming out from the bite. "H-Hanako-kun..." [Name] whimpered, tears forming from the corners of her eyes.

"So sweet..." Hanako licks off the running blood from her neck. "I need more..."

Hanako did the same with [Name]'s shoulders and near her chest. He wipes the bites after he took small sips of her blood with tissues. Hanako moves down to her thigh, giving it a small bite as the crimson liquid runs down in his mouth. "H-Hanako-kun~" [Name] calls him in a weak voice. "I-I think that's enough..."

"Alright then," Hanako tore his mouth away from her thigh, licking the remaining blood on his fingers and the bite mark. "Thanks for the dessert~"

"It's like you're treating me more like a dessert than an actual person." [Name] pouted.

"Sorry dear, I have a sweet tooth. You know I can't resist sweet things like you~"

[Name] initiated the kiss first, which caught Hanako off guard but he went along with it by taking the lead midway. She can probably taste her own blood since Hanako fed off her blood recently. His hands slithered down to fondle with her chest. "Mmmm~ Hanako-kun... more please..."

"You're liking this aren't you?" Hanako whispers softly in which [Name] nods her head timidly. Hanako pulls her up by her legs and wrapped them around his torso, setting her on his lap. "Look at you all hot and bothered~"

"So soft..." Hanako digs his face between her chest, inhaling her scent. [Name] patted his hair, sometimes his duality is concerning. Like a minute ago, he was ravishing her body and now he's a soft boy.

"For someone who has lived longer, you sure do act like a kid, Hanako-kun." [Name] softly said as she played with his hair. Hanako chuckled smugly and lifted his head.

"I may act like a child, but I know how to please a woman~" He smirked. His eyes glowed an ominous gold as his fangs shimmered against the candle light.

Color filled [Name’s] cheeks. "Aish you’re such a tease-" [Name] pouted and smacked his head while he laughed. Hanako leans in for a kiss, then a loud crash can be heard from outside of the room. "What was that?!"

"It's probably something else." Hanako sweatdrops, looking over to the door. "I'll check it out later, I still have to finish my treat." Hanako turns to her and smiled innocently.

[Name] was panting heavily as Hanako was groping her chest while marking her all over her top half. 'He's definitely enjoying this.' She thought as a soft moan came out of her lips. "What if someone sees the marks?"

"Then they'll know you belong to me~" Hanako smirked, cupping her cheeks and kissing her abruptly. [Name] started to unbutton his top as Hanako guides her hands till it was fully off to reveal his white undershirt. "[Name]..."

"Do you love me?" Hanako asks, his eyes turning soft towards [Name] and a small blush can be seen on his cheeks.

"Of course, Hanako-kun." [Name] smiled at the male in front of her. "I love you."

"I love you too." Hanako replied, his hand sneaking behind her, slowly lowering the zipper of her dress. Hanako connected his lips once again as he toppled on top of [Name].

It's up to your imagination on what happens next~

The next day, Hanako was back in his quarters to do his task with [Name] helping him organize the files. The telephone rang on Hanako's table, startling him a bit. "Hello, this is the manager speaking." He greeted.

"Hi, I would like to file a complaint." The guest started to speak from the other line. "Last night I heard some noises coming which made difficulty for me to sleep, maybe you can find the source of the noise? It sounded like a girl's voice if I can remember."

Hanako and [Name] knew what the person meant. [Name] blushed heavily, covering her whole face as Hanako whistled innocently. "Thank you for calling dear guest, I'll be sure to find the source of the voice and maybe I'll have a nice discussion with them~" Hanako wiggled his eyebrows at [Name], knowing that those sounds came from her.

After the call, Hanako grinned teasingly at [Name]. "I didn't know you were that loud last night~"

a/n: guess what, there's a part two :') and due to the law of nature i updated :)

[wornoutmouse]

Bakugo x reader/cheating Deku

Happy Thanksgiving hoes

Nitroglycerin which is part of Bakugou's quirk, smells like burnt sugar or Carmel fyi.

Once again no uraraka hate this was a request

As a last hurrah before you all graduated, Momo invited everyone to her luxurious home as a way to celebrate with games and bomb food.

 "Kaminari if I look back at my plate and another chicken strip is gone I will short circuit you." 

You sigh as you hear no response back, "You ate all my chiken strips didn't you?" Bakugo laughs, "Y/N you know damn well he did, now focus on how I beat Sero's ass cause this'll be you next!" You shake your head as you pick up your plate to get more food. 

You walk through the long corridor of the estate looking at all the bland artwork on the walls. "The kitchen shouldn't be this damn far from the living room." You grumbled pulling your phone out. As you got closer to the kitchen you heard a series of shuffling coming from the crack of the door. 

"Does Momo have prestigious cat or something?" You joked before peeking through the door. Izuku was pressed against the kitchen island breathing heavily. His face was red and skin shining in the light from sweat.

'that's weird.'

"Ochaco we can't be doing this so close to the others!" You could hear a clinking noise and Izuku's was currently looking down towards the floor. You could hear Uraraka's signature giggle bubble up but you still couldn't see her. Honestly, you couldn't see anything without opening the door more.

"That's suspicious"

"Calm down Deku, I'm sure no one is hungry anymore so we're fine!" Izuku grimaced, "I really think this is a bad idea- ahh!" 

You were too busy trying to peek inconspicuously that you pressed your whole weight against the door making it swing open. The plate that was in your hand fell with a loud clatter. 

Nestled on her knees was Uraraka who was currently busying her mouth with Midoriya's dick. Both of them turn their head at the sound of the noise, eyes going wide when they see you.

You stand there unsure on what to do. You weren't as sad as you thought you'd be in the situation. You weren't even boiling with rage like so many other stories you had heard. You were empty for lack of a better word. "What the hell is this?" 

Deku pushed Uraraka away from him and turned towards you. "Y/N I can explain, I-It isn't-" "What it looks like?" You finish picking up the plate with shaky hands. "See, call me crazy but, I think it's exactly what it looks like Midoriya." 

Deku flinches as the use of his last name. Uraraka stands up with a small blush on her face looking down at the floor. "Got damn it Uraraka be a woman and look at me!" You growled feeling the anger flow steadily through your veins. She looks up at you with small tears in her eyes. Whether from fear or remorse you couldn't care.

"H-How-" you choke on the words, holding your mouth as you stagger in place. "How long?" Izuku doesn't answer only watching with furrowed brows. "Y/N you don't look so good, do you need to sit down?" He walks towards you and touched your arm making you jerk it away. "Don't fucking touch me Midoriya and tell me how long!?" 

Deku clenched his fists before adoring a far away look in his eyes. "A month, a little bit after you visited your parents in the states. I-I didn't mean for it to happen I swear!." You slap his face, and he allows it. You shake a finger at him as the tears collect and the sobs threaten to surface. "A mon- ooo, I swear to God Deku." Your body shakes as it's over come with a hidden emotion.

"Aye y/n, you need to get your ass out here before you miss your...turn..." Bakugou said, trailing thin at the end. You step back from Midoriya before hitting his chest. "Ka-chan you gotta help me!" Demi starts, "Don't you fucking Ka-chan me! What the hell is going on?!"

Your let out a gutteral scream and throw the plate at Midoriya's head before walking past Bakugou into the hall. "Y/N!" Multiple voices scream out at you.

You blindly walked into a room and pace around, frustrated that there wasn't anything in the room you could throw that didn't cost more than your life. "Ima kill him, Oo I'ma kill him!" You mumbled as hot tears rolled down your face. You threw punches into the wall cracking it on impact. 

The door opens behind you and you side step into a kick almost meeting your mark before your foot is caught. It was Bakugou who looked at you with blank eyes. "If you wanna fight, don't take it out on the upholstery." You shake out your hands as you feel adrenaline flow through them.

Bakugo looks around and sighs before jumping up and down, holding his hand up in a fighting stance. "Come on, this rooms big enough as long as we don't use quirks." You narrow your eyes and charge without warning, punching Bakugou in the gut. 

"That Bastard!" You cried through grit teeth. You swipe under Bakugou's feet knocking him over before slamming your foot down which he doges easily. You felt the shock of it all coarse through you, "He cheated on me!" Bakugou stands up before bobbing away from a punch, "I know." 

You kick again which Bakugou blocks before attempting an upper cut. "He did it for a fucking month." You say feeling the acknowledgement as you side step. "I know." Responds Bakugou as he circles you. 

Anger flows once again and you put Bakugo in a head lock, "Uraraka, it was with fucking Uraraka. She knows me!" Bakugou grips your arms before bending over and sending you to the ground. "I know."

You stand up faceing him again, tears pouring down your face as your eyes burn from your eyeliner. "I loved him." You weakly swipe at Bakugou's face as the crippling feeling of sadness comes over you. Bakugou easily grabs your wrist and pulls you into a crushing hug grounding you. 

"I know."

You curl your fingers into the fabric of Bakugou's shirt as you sob loudly. Bakugou sighs uncomfortably as he gently rubs the top of your head, griting his teeth at your broken cries. Bakugou's hand trails down your trembling back as he sooths you.

He offers no comforting words. No questions. No angry affirmations. Just his presence as you let out your emotions. 

You raise your face from his chest and glared up at him. "What did I do!?" Bakugou swallows down his own rage and cups your face, ''Nothing dumbass you're perfect."

 You turn your head away bashful. "Bakugo, if I asked you to do something for me… Would you do it?" Bakugo sucks in a breath. "What is it?" You say nothing for a while as you stare out the window feeling your inner turmoil come to a stand still. "Will you make love to me?" 

You turn back to look at him, "It doesn't h-have to mean anything, I… I just want…" you bury your face in his chest letting yourself be surrounded by the faint sugary smell of his toxic sweat. 

A firm hand grasps your chin, softly tilting your head up. Your noses touched as your exchanged breaths intimately. Closing his eyes, Bakugou presses his lips against yours. You lean into it allmost too energetically as Bakugo backs you into the bed.

"I will do it for you this one time. But after that you'll have to be mine, no going back." You look at Bakugou and see his earnest face as he looks back down at you. "Promise not to-" "Like hell I'd do that!" You chuckle grimly, "Yeah he said that too."

Bakugou clicked his teeth before grabbing you by the waist pushing you further on the bed. "Forget that ass and focus on me." 

Hands slide along your sides as you kiss, intertwining tongues. You grip Bakugou's hair as you run your hands up his neck. Pulling away for air, your lift your head as he trails soft kisses along your jaw before coming back to your mouth. "So pretty.." you shake your head whimpering at the compliment.

Bakugou nibbles as your jugular, "No back talk." 

Nimble fingers unbuckle your pants as he kisses you again nibbling on your lips.  Tossing your pants somewhere, Bakugou nibbles on the soft flesh between your thighs as he continues to rub your sides. 

You moan, softly bucking your hips when you feel a warm wet muscle massage your lower regions. "Bakugou." You gently card your hands through his soft hair as he eats you out, opting between gentle sucks, licks, and the occasional bites on your thighs and stomach. 

Your legs flex from shocks of pleasure as Bakugou grows more persistent with your heat. You raise your hips to find some relief from the constant pleasure but Bakugou only held on tighter to your thighs, lapping up your fluids like they were the sweetest nectar.

With one last lick Bakugou trails up your body again leaving kisses as he grinds slowly into you. "Are you sure? We can stop right now if you want." You shake your head as you slide your hands up his body watching him shiver as your fingertips lightly brush over his chest. "Please, keep going." You become serious. "I want him to hear it." 

Bakugou looks at you unsure for a while. He was conflicted, on one hand revenge like this would be perfect. On the other hand would this truly help you? Putting away his better judgement, he nods. "Then you better scream my name." 

You open your legs wider as Bakugou undresses before you, poisoning in-between your legs. You were more than ready to receive him as he pumps his cock in front of you. "Bakugou!" You whined, shaking your hips, "Shit, I know but we're gonna need a little more than that."

After accumulating a good amount of pre-cum, you feel the familiar burning sensation of his cock being forced into you. Bakugou wheezes at the contrasting warmth of your insides as you squeeze all around him. Your voice shakes as you feel the rough drag of his cock as it moves throughout your tightness.

"You're so thick." You sigh as you toss your head back to try to focus on relaxing. "Thanks." Bakugou replies dryly, nosing at your neck as he waits for you to adjust. He knew his cock was thick as hell and hard to adjust to, so he understood your tired enthusiasm

Bakugou takes hold of your thighs and uses them to thrust into you. He raises your leg suddenly making you yelp as he humps his cock against your g-spot. "Wait Bakugou I'm sensitive!" You grab his hand to slow him down but he simply intertwined his fingers with yours, slamming it back down on the bed.

"Remember, you wanted them to hear you." You turn on your side and grip the sheets as Bakugou growls into your ear. Your breath hitches as his rough hands grip your love handles, using them for momentum. 

"Come on, say my name." You squint as your spot is hit repeatedly, "Baku-" a heated hand comes to wrap around your neck, "That's my last name TeddyBear, I want you to say my real name." As the hand squeezes,  you moan as you feel small shocks, pop against your skin, "F-F-Fuck, Katsuki!" 

Bakugou moans at the sound of his name and snaps his hips against yours, "That sounds so sexy, Say it again."  A heated hand whips your ass, "K-Katsuki, you feel s-oh good!" Your eyes roll behind your head and you push yourself away from the pleasure as you feel your impending orgasm. 

"Don't run from me Y/N, I wanna hear my name when you cum!" You close your eyes as Katsuki goes faster, wrapping his warm hand around your neck again. From where he's hand is holding your love handles, you can hear smalll pops as your waist lights up in sweet pain. "Katsuki!" "Louder! Fuck I'm going to cum!" 

"KATSUKI!" Your world sparks to white as you come around his cock. Bakugou continues fucking you through your orgasm. His eyes are tightly closed as heavy pants leave his mouth. His hips stutter as he cums deep inside releasing a high moan as he slouches over your worn out body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a half assed clean up, you and Bakugou walk to the common room and come to a shocking scene. "I am very disappointed in you Midoriya." Iida says as Todoroki renews a fresh layer of ice over Deku's legs ask while Deku is receiving a wet willie from Sato. 

Mina and Jiro are yelling at Ochaco who looks like she's about to cry. Kaminari and Mineta are talking about how it is unlawful to cheat on a "total babe" and Kirishima is lamenting to Koda, Shoji, Ojiro about how it is "unmanly" to lie and cheat.

A hand drops down on your shoulder and you turn to see Tokoyami with Koda behind him. "Are you okay Y/N?"

You smile and put a hand over his, "I'm fine boo." He nods, "Good because if you weren't I wouldn't hesitate to go to the end of the earth and find the most painful way to end a hero's life, then i would double it by 4 and use it to cut off Midoriya's prepubescent balls."

The room goes quiet as you cautiously peel Tokoyami's hand off your shoulder, eyes wide.

You look at Midoriya and take a deep breath. "You ain't shit, but I forgive your cheating ass." You turn to Ochaco, "You raggity but I forgive yo skank ass." 

Mineta laughed, "I would hope so, with how loud you two were." The room laughs as you a Bakugou blush.

Hagegure was nowhere to be seen

[cherrysha]

Lesson Learned

Okay so it’s canon that nobu is not not the sharpest. Motherfucker locked the door when two kids smashed thru a wall to break out. So I was sittin there like 🤔 what typa yandere would he be? Like if he didn’t want to use force what would he do instead? I think he’d stall trying to think it through until it was too late to be subtle.so i wrote abt it.

Summary: Nobu helps you through a breakup. Also the reader is very naive

Word Count: 2.8k

My requests are open atm

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, yandere themes, dubcon/noncon

  18+ Only

Taglist: @ramwrites​ @prettycutebunny​ @absolute-flaming-trash​

Nobu meets you there, a small rundown looking bar on the outskirts of town. As he enters, he sees you sitting at the bar, a small smile on your face as you vacantly stare at the wooden countertop. That, along with the half empty glass in your hand, makes it clear that you’ve started without him.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Ahh, a waste of four months of my life! Rejoicing the end of a shit relationship.”

You’ve already managed to make a scene, much to his dismay. The bystanders around you seemingly more boisterous as you raise your shot in cheers.

“I’ll buy us a round for that!” The tall brunette next to you chuckles. Older, maybe in her late forties, and a little drunker than you were right now. As she hands you the drink, he can’t help but think of the ten different ways she could’ve spiked it with something, how trusting you were when you truly shouldn’t have been. Of course, he wouldn’t let that happen to you, but the thought alone is enough to irritate him.

He’d manufactured the breakup, of course. Planted a seed in your mind that the man was seeing someone else and carefully placed evidence when he knew he wouldn’t be caught. It was surprisingly easy. The cheap plastic lock on your window wasn’t all that sturdy; He’d told you to change it before he left but you’d just shrugged and told him that there wasn’t anything in your apartment worth stealing. So naive. Couldn’t really blame you for finding someone though. It seemed somewhere along the way he’d miscalculated. Thought maybe if given time you’d come to realize just how much he meant to you, how much you meant to each other. Obviously, his mistake was giving you a choice in the matter.

“You gunna drink Nobu?” You giggle, hands tugging and getting lost in the folds of his robe. Always so handsy when you drank; At least your affection was focused on him this time.

“Not tonight sweetheart” he smiles at the pronounced pout on your face, lip jutting out at him.

He wraps an arm around you to the other side of the stool and pushes you closer.

“Hey, if I’m drunk too then who’s gunna watch out for you? Can’t defend your honor if I can’t see straight right?”

His teasing and light poke of your nose makes you giggle again, burying your head in his side. Nobu had always felt safe, one of the few men who wouldn’t read your affection as flirtation. You could hug him the same way that you did with your girl friends and not have to worry about it being misconstrued.

It didn’t take as long as he thought it would for you to call him, if anything you’d messaged him maybe two hours after he planted the women’s clothing in your apartment. Sure, he didn’t expect you to go and get wasted, but he could work with this. So sweet, that’s what infatuated him in the first place. Trusting and affectionate and so, so gullible. Couldn’t tell when a man wanted you, when he wanted you.

As per your earlier request to “keep ‘em comin’” The bartender slides you another drink. Something fruity from the looks of it. He smiles as you play with the condensation on the side of the glass.

“Can I ask you something?”

You’re hesitant and he wonders if it’s because he may say no, or because of the answer you may get.

“Shoot.”

Your apprehension is almost palpable, but he ignores the little squirm of your body against his.

“D-D’you mind if I stay with you tonight? I mean I gave him a couple of days to move out and all and I -“

“It’s fine.” He tries to make his voice sound irritated, but follows it up with something sweet to discourage you from backtracking. “What are friends for, right? You can stay until he’s gone.” Offers you a kind smile to subdue any apprehension you felt.

When he left you’d found someone. Some bland looking man who had a desk job and promised you a plain life. As if that’s what you wanted.

He can’t help but smile as you take shot after shot, body swaying with the boom from the overhead speakers. It’s only when you get really loud that he decides it’s time to go.

“Y’don’t wanna dance Nobu?” You slur as he practically carries you out.

“No, baby I think it’s time we left” you start to whine but he hushes you, stopping in front of your car to dig through your purse for the keys.

“Hey Nobu?” You whisper, eyes blank and staring at the wet concrete.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You don’t respond so he figures you’ve already forgotten the question and focuses on getting you in the vehicle and securing your belt. Head resting against the seat, you close your eyes, only speaking again when the car is pulling out of the lot.

“Nobu?”

He doesn’t respond. Focuses on the road as you work through whatever you had to say

“Nobu...I think maybe I wasn’t good enough.” his eyes flick to you as he gives you a sigh.

“Any man that thinks you’re not good enough is a fucking idiot.” He expected this. Made a list of answers to your self-hatred so he wouldn’t get angry in the moment. Such a stupid thought, he blames it on the alcohol to soothe the irritation in his chest.

-

“Why did you wear a dress anyway?” He questioned, sitting on the edge of his bed as you take your hair down.

“Cuz then I can take it off easy! Pants are too hard when you’re drunk.”

He’s seen your panty-clad ass multiple times tonight. Teasing him with every sloppy movement you made. Getting on the stool at the bar, getting off of it, getting in and out of the car. He got a good look at the pretty lace covering your womanhood. As you pull it over your head, he gets to see a little pink bow that rests at the top of the underwear this time.

So brash, in all the years he’d been by your side he’d never seen this much of you. He knew it was the drinks, but It’s almost like you wanted it.

“Nobu?”

He hesitates, taking in the way your body looks as you stretch your arms above your head, yawn falling from your open mouth.

“Yeah?”

“D’you have something I could sleep in?” You ask it like you know he’s willing to give you something. Like he doesn’t want to see your naked body in his bed, fucked out and delirious with pleasure.

“What if I don’t?” He tried to mask the lust on his face with indifference and watches as you cross your arms.

“Not even a shirt?” He shakes his head no.

Too tired to really care, and too wasted to have any modesty, you crawl into his bed with a huff.

“Fine! Be like that then!” So cute when you were mad, face scrunching up as if your reaction alone could sway him. To be fair, it usually did.

He’s deftly untying his robe when he speaks over his shoulder to you.

“I don’t want you throwing up on my stuff... lucky I’m not making you sleep on the couch.” He mutters loud enough for you to hear.

He expects you to get angrier, but his fingers halt when he hears your giggle.

“What’s so funny y/n?” He stands, taking his pants off before coming to sit next to your body sprawled across his bed. You acted as if you belonged. A breathing sculpture made for his eyes only and soft skin forged just for his hands to enjoy. In his bed. Giggling and almost naked.

“You wouldn’t ever ever make me sleep on the couch!”

“And why’s that?” He grunts

“Because I’m your best friend” And you say it with so much confidence it pulls a smile to his face.

“Ah, I guess you’re right there.”

After a few beats he lets his hair down and comes to join you, laying to rest next to your body as you begin to squirm with a frown.

“What’s wrong now?”

 “My bra... I need a shirt... can’t take it off without a shirt.. cuz then -“

“Take it off y/n.” His tone is clipped and the way he’s staring at you, you read it as annoyed. He’s right, he’s your best friend. It’s only weird because you’re making it weird. The alcohol fuzzes any concept of propriety from your mind.

You sit up and try to unclasp it yourself but, in your state, the tiny hooks are a puzzle you can’t quite figure out. Just fucking asking for it, he thinks to himself as you allow him to unclip it for you. He takes the initiative to trail his fingers down your arms with the straps, watching goosebumps raise on your flesh.

“Thanks nobu” You smile, quickly covering yourself with the blanket before he has a chance to get a proper look.

It’s maddening. He’s painfully hard, has been painfully hard since you took the damn dress off. He takes a few moments to collect himself, propped up on the bed with an elbow, he pinches the bridge of his nose. Closes his eyes and breathes.

“D-Did I do something?” You whisper, face half hidden under the comforter as you stare up at him.

“No. It’s just -“ he pauses, thinks of something to say besides ‘you’re being a fucking tease and it’s taking everything in me to be patient with this’

“You know how many people could’ve taken advantage of you tonight?”

He looks for a response and finds you shaking your head ‘no’, blanket tucked around your chest as big watery eyes meet his.

“Fuck me” he groans.

Having enough, he pushes you flat on your back, arm coming to cup your face.

“Don’t cry. Just answer me.” He still sounds annoyed, so you obediently lay there and listen. What if you annoyed him so bad that he forced you to leave? It’s not like you could go home, or even get there in this state.

“What if someone touched you like this?” His hand keeps caressing the side of your face, thumb swiping down to your bottom lip every so often.

“Someone bigger than you... you couldn’t do anything, huh?”

“I could try to get away..” and it comes out as more of a question.

His hand travels down your throat to lightly grip your neck.

“What if they were faster?”

You whimper and it takes a moment for him to realize that it’s not from pain. He’s used to being a little too rough, so he checks his grip. You liked this. His hand around your throat, panting at it even though he didn’t apply enough pressure to leave you breathless.

“I - could scream”

“Ah…”

His hand pulls the blanket down, giving you a sharp stare when you try to cover yourself up again. With the object out of the way he can finally see them. Pert nipples and plump skin, they look like they’d be heavy in his hand and with a grunt he confirms his suspicions. he shifts his weight and frees up his other hand, you mewl as he cups both of them. Squeezing them softly he asks you “What if you couldn’t scream?”

Your mind is fried. Torn between being uncomfortable with your best friend softly palming your breasts, okay with it because he was only teaching you a lesson, and shamefully turned on at the warm pressure of his hands on you.

“I....I..” you squeal as his pinches your nipples, eyes narrowing as he rolls them between his fingers.

“Stop moving... I’m trying to teach you something here.”

Like a good girl, you try to still yourself. You look unsure, as if you don’t know what to do, how to feel. When his hand travels to play with the waistband of your panties you finally collect yourself enough to wrap a hand around his wrist.

“No... wait!” You’re wet, embarrassingly so, to the point you can feel it sticking your panties to you. If he went any lower... if he saw it..

“Let go” it comes out as a growl, actual anger making its way into his face. And you do, because he’s already mad at you and now you were just making it worse.

His hand cups you through the fabric, eyebrows raising at the wetness dampening the cloth there. Shame fills your face and you can’t stand to look at him. It’s not that you were trying to stop him. Seeing the look in your eyes he can tell you’re embarrassed by it. This was what you were trying to hide? He scoffs and pushes the scrap of fabric to the side. Wants to warm you up, play with your clit until you’re a mess underneath him, but once he feels just how wet you are, he abandons that plan. Instead he opts to shove two fingers as deep into your pussy as they can go. Moaning, your back arches as he starts to curl his digits up into that little slice of heaven inside you.

“What if someone got their fingers in you like I did? What if they weren’t your friend and you didn’t want it?” He’s growling lowly as he nuzzles against your neck, teeth nipping at the soft skin as he sucks bruises.

“Nobu!”

You try to wriggle away from his mouth ravaging you, moving down to your breast and grazing his teeth against your nipple.

“Nobu…Nobu...” his name becomes a mantra on your lips as you grab a fistful of his hair. A thumb roughly circles your clit and the pressure continues to build. A few more minutes, a few more curls of his fingers and you’re close... so close your muscles start to tighten, whimpers getting lost in the open air as they escape your throat.

Before you can, though, he pulls back. Pushes you onto your belly, hands pulling hips up until you’re in the position he wants. Gently rubs circles into the small of your back and before you can even understand what’s going on, his cock is filling you up from behind.

“Fuck” he grits out. You’re still mumbling his name strewn along with quiet little whimpers. “Someone could’ve fucked you like this” he bends down to your ear as his hips slam into yours.

“Taken you like a bitch in heat.”

His hand squeezes tight to your throat and it makes apologies fall from your mouth. So tight he loses himself in the feel of it. Slows his hips down until all he’s doing is grinding up into you. Closes his eyes as his teeth clamp around your shoulder. So much wasted time waiting when it only would’ve taken him one night and a few bottles. He rocks into you quick, loving the sharp cry of his name you let out, followed by apologies.

“Stop sayin you’re sorry” he grits out, feeling the way you tighten around him at the sound of his voice.

“Just tell me.... would you want someone else doin this you?”

You yelp as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hip, not so subtly pushing you back and forth on his cock.

“No!” Your voice cracks when his hips make contact with yours again.

He smiles “But it’s okay because I’m your friend, right?”

You nod fervently, heat building up in your core at an alarming rate.

“Wanted my cock in you…” you keep nodding, incoherently agreeing to whatever he has to say as he pinches your nipple.

Such a good girl, so submissive already. His other hand pushes against the small of your back, deepening the arch until your face is smushed against the pillows.

He keeps hitting your cervix, the tip of his cock forcefully bumping into it with every movement. Already knows how sore you’re going to be tomorrow, but that’s what he wants. Wants your legs to feel like jelly, thighs sore and cunt aching from being filled so well. Wants to hear you beg as he tries to soothe the ache with his tongue.

The bed muffles the screams as you cum around him, arms shooting back to desperately shove him off. It’s no use, hands grab your arms and he uses them as leverage to fuck you through it. When he’s satisfied, he wraps one arm around your stomach as the other settles at the hollow of your throat. Fucks up into you as he peppers kisses to the side of your face.

“So good for me” And the praise makes a sweet little cry escape from you. So pretty, and all his. The realization makes his thrusts more urgent. A few more jerky movements and he stills himself deep inside, slightly lifting you off the bed as he forgets to be gentle. He doesn’t want to, but fuck if he can control himself, he cums inside with a shaky moan. He rests there for a beat, enjoying the warmth around him, before he pulls out.

Nobu sets you down, laughing softly as your legs give out underneath you. “You learn your lesson sweetheart?”

[quizzzically]

it sucks BOOTY that lloyd in the later seasons is like. Ahh i'm so noble and responsible and i am strictly very serious and dont joke around and now *I* am the sensible leader!! now i'm the one herding my team around and keeping them in check...you see how the turn table!!.. like!! you can make a character undergo change and development and make them grow up/make them the leader without just making them bland and boring and removing all of what made them enjoyable in the first place. like i dont buy it that boy is dumb as fuck and also 14 years old

[oikawasbliss]

dance with me

feeling alone at prom, good thing for you another person was left alone also.

⇢ Hi, Can I also request 46 with Kita? If you're not comfortable with writing him can you do it with Suna? Thank u and have a nice day! – @maitenight

⇢ prom!au — kita x reader

⇢ warning: mentioned reader wearing a dress.

⇢ wc: 1k | prompt: “ dance with me ” (the title hehe)

⇢ a/n: probably the longest one i wrote hehe. sorry for taking this so long!! I was abt to make this a royal!au but then realized i'm not good at writing at that kind of concept yet so i redone it as a prom!au . forgive me !!

you sit down on a vacant seat next to a table with the consumables, while everyone dances and has their romantic moments with their dates.

you? oh you're just quietly eating biscuits that you got from the table beside you. you never wanted to be in this event, the only reason you attended are: your dress. you don't want it to be a waste and not wear it so you just go. two, the food.

no one asked you out as their dates, they were flabbergasted that you actually came and yet none had the chance to ask you out as their partners, bummer. you really want to have one, but for now, you're just a display at the corner.

a display at the corner watching beef happening not so far from where you are, even so you could be able to hear them.

this isn't eavesdropping, you thought while listening to the pair argue.

a handsome lad with white hair and black highlights, the guy's same as your year but cooler. and a pretty woman who you don't care of, but seems like one of the people in your class.

” shinsuke.. i'm so sorry.. goodbye. ” the latter then walks out of the school gym.

” bland. ” you murmured beneath your breath before taking a bite of your biscuit, describing what had just happened. for what it seems like kita shinsuke getting dumped.

you shrugged and murmured once more, ” sucks for him. ” as you were about to eat the last piece of biscuit you took.

he then started walking to where you're sitting, you furrowed your eyes examining the figure getting nearer and nearer. his expression is gloomy, you felt the melancholic air surrounding him. sucks for him, you thought of again. you didn't bother him coming to you, after all you are beside the table with foods.

he just stood there, looking blankly at the stuff on the table, you felt bad for the man but also you wanted more biscuits since those are the only thing keeping you alive in this event.

you hand reached to a tray, grabbing 6 in your whole hand. your eyes widen in happiness, you took a glance at the man once more and caught him immediately looking away.

he just stood there, not even grabbing food or anything, he was a bit distant but he was the nearest person to you so you felt awkward, both of you do.

you didn't want the silence to keep going for you two, it's already making you uncomfy, so you decided to break it by speaking first. “ so.. your date? ”

kita darted his eyes, backing him out of his trance, “ o-oh.. uhm.. yes. ” he hesitated. “i mean, what happened to your date? ”

“ oh that? Let's just say something happened and now I'm alone. ”

without kita getting no food from the table, he walked to the vacant seat beside you, but before he sits he wants to make sure you're okay with it, so he whispers “ may i? ” you turned your dull face at him and slightly nodded, you're a little weary because of someone you don't fully know is sitting beside you, also after eating almost half of the biscuits on the table.

your face opposed him, you're getting uncomfy a second passes, but you didn't want to seem rude to the man, so you just sat there.

“ so, your date? ” kita asked sheepishly, continuing a conversation between the two of you.

“ oh.. well.. i don't have one— ” you replied, ending it with a chuckle of embarrassment. his hues immediately turned to you but you were unaware, considering you are faced the opposite as him. “ —I mean, i wasn't asked out. ”

before kita could speak you added “ I said i wasn't going but i did. ” once more.

you heard his response to your answer and it was just a simple, boring “ ahh.. ”

you also asked the same thing to the other, he let out a slow hum before answering.

“ did she dump you? ”

“ well.. no? i mean.. something urgent to her came up. i said she could go since that's more important than some dumb school event, so she left. ”

you replied the same thing that kita did earlier. “ ahh… ”

another segment of silence filled between the small area, not both of you can even think of a new conversation starter. the two of you are just awkwardly sitting beside each other, you barely even hear the music playing in the background, both of you are just mentally hearing cricket noises.

you looked at the students with stunning fits at the middle of the gym, having their own good time, “ aren't we just… lonely? ” you giggled by the end of your sentence, kita let out a short laugh. “ it is indeed. ”

some time later you and kita have been talking to each other for almost all the time, coming up with unfunny jokes here and there, introduced to each other also, of course. both of you were comfortable with each other even though you two met the very same night.

kita stood up and faced in front of you.

“ dance with me? ” his open hand slowly facing in front of you. because of this sudden action of his, you found not only what he did, but he himself attractive. your heart starting beating fast like it was in competitive racing. you unawaringly lift both the edge of your lip. you smiled blissfully, laid your hand on his, joyfully saying “ yes. yes you may. ”

a genuine smile plastered on his face. you couldn't describe how attractive his visage was, then again, you couldn't get it off your brain that everything about him became attractive.

he pulled you up and placed both his arms on your waist, wrapping both of your hands around his neck.

“ don't you want to dance in the middle? ” you asked, as the two of you started, slowly moved your feet.

the captain shrugged, “ i do not. i'm not the type of person to be in the spotlight. ”

though you two just met the very same night.

you would never forget how you two made one another, have the best night.

i hope we'd still act like this if ever we'd stumble upon each other again.

© howluvish 2020. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[shintorikhazumi]

Life at stake

A/N: Sup, my name is Khaz. So I was binging Kakegurui lately (and rewatching one too many times), and then watched the ep where Mary’s bday was revealed just the other day, looked at my laptop calendar, and went, “woah- it’s Mary’s Birthday?!” So I was super excited to make my first Kakegurui fic a Mary bday fic, but then exams hit me like a truck so...

I love Mary. So Happy birthday Mary. My first Kakegurui fic goes to you. (even if it’s late lmao so I’ll make it a multi-chap)

Self indulgent af because... Because.

This. Might suck. Not the best author. Regardless, hope you at least...

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Kirari continued twirling the coin ‘round her finger. It was getting boring in the office lately. She needed something. Some toy to mess around with. The recent days had been rather uneventful for her corporation. Nothing interesting had popped up, and all the business chains under her rule were working rather smoothly.

In short,

It sucked.

High school was definitely better.

Sayaka was by her side, ever faithful in her duties as she filed the last of today’s paperwork. Kirari eyed her expression, watching Sayaka bite her lip, a sign she was contemplating something. The ex-president of Hyakkaou guessed it was about whether or not she should get a head start on tomorrow’s scheduled responsibilities. A good insurance move for the unexpected future. How logical of her. How rational. How very Sayaka.

Ah. But Kirari was her opposite. Always had been. And much unlike her secretary, she adored the unexpected future.

You never know what could happen in so few seconds.

Be it life or death.

It filled her with a pleasurable electricity coursing through her whole body just from the thought of the Destiny stringing her along to its predetermined design. It reminded her of that one match of Fate she had with one Jabami Yumeko all those years ago- okay, maybe like... four years ago, but that was some time in the past, right?

Speaking of Yumeko...

Kirari watched Sayaka berate the girl as she sat on-yes, on, not at- the conference table just across from her now-boss, Kirari. Why she was here, well...

Yumeko was simply too uninterested in college, but unwilling to just settle down to do nothing. Thus, upon graduating from Hyakkaou, she had accepted a modified version of her “life plan” in high school that her relative had offered.

It was better than anything else to her at the time. More interesting than going to college or back home, Yumeko had told Kirari. So the girl was found working for her, managing one of the teal-eyed woman’s underground Casinos. That was it. No other conditions attached. Who was Yumeko to reject such a generous offer that was right in line with her one true love, gambling?

Okay, so maybe Kirari had been the one to scout after her and laid her bet of being Yumeko’s patron for a lifetime of gambling ahead. Yumeko didn’t actually find her offer all that appealing at the beginning, but then a bet had been set in place.  A bet with a risk of whether or not this new business would go under or if it would flourish, regardless of Yumeko’s presence.

One billion dollars. If the casino couldn’t make that much profit in a week without the girl, but could with her, then Kirari would win, and Yumeko was hers forever. If it succeeded, Kirari could not touch her. Yumeko would be gone from her grasp, out of her paradise aquarium.  

Of course Yumeko agreed to it.

She loved a good bet. Especially if it was one as intense as the ones she’d shared with Kirari. Kirari loved good, unpredictable wagers too. You could win it all, or lose it all. That was in gambling’s nature. But well, Kirari never gambled games she’d lose. Not on purpose at least.

And that was how she’d gotten Yumeko aboard in her little aquarium once more.

For what it was worth, Yumeko had been able to offer her the entertainment she desired. However, the more successful their whole group had grown, the less Kirari was able to enjoy messing with her very competent, and now very busy staff.

Staring at Yumeko looking over her work seriously despite being in such a position on her table was becoming dull, Kirari getting used to its oddness.

Why was everyone in this room so dedicated and serious in work?

Couldn’t they offer Kirari some semblance of entertainment right now?

Who else could she bother... ah- Ririka. Her dear twin sister. Who had just walked into the room. Surely she’d care enough to save her own flesh and blood, the spitting image of herself from the claws of death by utter boredom.

“Riri-”

“Not now, Rari. I have things to do.” The girl had her brows knitted in a frown, and Kirari suspected that the meeting she was sent to attend did not go as well as they hoped.

Guess that’s another thing for her to smooth out tomorrow. Something to spice up her bland work life. Somehow. But that was for tomorrow.

For today, however, now what... what else could she...

“Excuse me? I’m Hanatemari from HR. I have some files I’d like to have looked over for the recent proposed project.”

A rather fluffy-looking girl was bid welcome into the vast office, Sayaka approaching her and handling the business, as per usual, leaving Kirari to sulk in nothingness even more.

She decided to occupy her mind with this new arrival, eyeing her from head to toe discreetly. Hmm? There was something about the her... something familiar... Hanatemari, Hanatemari...- Oh.

Kirari internally grinned, memory clearing. Hanatemari Tsuzura-san. Hoho. Since when had she been working for Kirari? This was exciting! This was interesting! This was something unforeseen! Now maybe if Kirari could just get her to-

“Thank you very much. I’ll be taking my leave now.” The girl, before Kirari could even utter a single word and get up from her chair, had already began to clean up, and turned on her heel, walking across the vast room heading for the door.

Ahh. And there went her last resort. Would anyone be willing to just take this terrible monotony of a work routine away?

Her final hope, little Hanatemari was slipping away! Kirari would have stopped her. Kirari could have. But she was leaving now, and would it be odd for Kirari to stop her? But since when had she cared about such a thing? That’s right! She didn’t! And so she would get up right now and chat the poor employee up and try to fish for something, anything of any worth.

Before she could do that however, the girl seemed to have taken a turn to have a word with Ririka. She would have frowned, but then a voice at the back of her mind told her to watch; to observe the girl’s interaction with her currently perplexed sibling, showing her some papers that made her sigh at first, but then oddly enough, suddenly light up in poorly concealed excitement.

Oh?

“Yes. As Igarashi-san has said, I will be in direct supervision of this project. Thank you for coming all this way to show me this-” Ririka attempted to speak with her usual leveled tone of professionalism, but Kirari knew her twin well enough to notice sudden brightness in her voice, and the immediate disappearance of her earlier displeasure.

Now Kirari’s attention was definitely caught. It wouldn’t be fun to remain a spectator then, now would it? Not when fate’s dice had begun to roll once more.

“Hello.” She cut in between them, an unreadable smile on her lips as both ladies showed their surprise in their own ways.

Tsuzura had visibly jumped, almost dropping her folder and clipboard, while Kirari smirked at being able to get a flinch out of Ririka.

“M-m-ma’am! Madame! I... why- I’m...” For someone supposedly in Human Resources, this girl couldn’t hold much of a conversation. Kirari was a little worried about that department now.

Or maybe it was because it was Kirari that she acted this way? The sadistic little demon in her grinned, pleased.

“And what is it that you have right there?”

“O-oh! N-nothing someone as noble as you should trouble yourself with.” The girl squeaked out quickly,  papers held tighter to her chest.

“But of course, I should trouble myself with this. This is my company, and those seem to be some documents related to a new project, I heard? Do tell me what it’s all about, Miss...” Kirari trailed off, waiting for the girl to introduce herself.

“Hanatemari. I am Hanatemari Tsuzura.”

But of course, Kirari already knew that.

“Lovely name. And what do you have right there, Hanatemari-san?”

“Oh! Um...” Kirari smiled as the papers slowly inched their way towards her itching hands. What could they possibly contain-

“Just the profiles of incoming interns and trial members.” Ririka quickly snatched the thick folder away, mixing it in with her own. “I’m sure Sayaka has approved of them for you, and I do too. You needn’t worry, dear sister. This is part of our jobs.”

Now this was suspicious. Ririka never really hid much from her. The only time she’d do it was when... ara?

This.

This was it. This was what Kirari had been wanting.

With Ririka’s sudden, careless actions, a few sheets of paper had spilled out the bottom of the files and onto the floor, one particular face-up profile causing a grin to spread wide on Kirari’s face.

Blonde hair, shimmering golden eyes, and that signature scowl of headstrong defiance that Kirari absolutely loved to coax out from this particular girl.

Ah, of course. The one who despised her so, and was one of the people who always gave her a thrill. She never disappointed Kirari, and always entertained her. She was confident, capable, faultily prideful and cocky at times, and was a tsundere.

Yes.

The perfect amusement. Ever the perfect toy.

Kirari couldn’t help but voice her desires. Her need to bring back this little fishy into her lovely, deathly aquarium.

“I want Saotome. I want to make her mine.”

---------

If a few papers on the floor were already enough for Sayaka to consider it “a mess”, then all of those applications now dropped and mixed together on the floor surely made her head hurt, Kirari assumed. Maybe she should help clear it up later if she wanted to maybe not sleep on the couch again.

“What did you just...” Ririka began, but failed to continue. Her nails dug into her palm, teeth clenched and brows furrowed.

Kirari raised a brow at this reaction.

She vaguely registered the sound of a pen clicking, before there was the tap of the plastic onto the table surface.

“What a bold declaration.” Yumeko suddenly stood up, walking towards the gathered group, eyes hidden behind bangs. “To say you want Mary-san to be...” A pause as Yumeko got all up in Kirari’s face, eyes that dangerous red glint as she breathed the last word into Kirari’s ear. “Yours.”

Oh, that delicious chill that ran up her spine.

Mary Saotome. She wasn’t even here, and yet her name had so quickly already stirred up quite the fun. As she thought, Kirari truly needed her here.

Even Tsuzura had an odd tint to her gaze, a frown marring her soft features.

Hmm.

Kirari was certain she knew why they responded the way they did. It was all too obvious, and all the more exciting. Just... weren’t these girls misunderstanding something?

Well, it didn’t matter. If misunderstanding meant an end to her daily gray, then Kirari would utilize it to its fullest extent.

And what better way to do that than...

“It seems as though you disagree with me. Don’t tell me... you all want Saotome Mary to yourselves?”

Only Yumeko vocally confirmed in her usual light-hearted, ‘but of course!’, with that deceiving cheery smile; but Kirari knew the other two shared the sentiment.

“Well then. How about...

We gamble for her.”

Yes, Kirari savored those burning gazes, the exhilaration coursing within her. They all looked way too up for it. It was perfect!

Ah, gambling your life away in high risk games was always a pleasure.

But well, this time it wasn’t Kirari’s own life. She should probably apologize to the girl once she sees her, for betting “ownership” over her.

Meh. She’d cross that bridge when Mary got here.

For now,

Mary Saotome’s life...

is at stake.

//-//-//-//-//

“A-aaa...ACHOO-! Ugh...whad da heck...” Mary reached into her pocket for her handkerchief, clicking her tongue when she couldn’t feel it there. She began to grumble, hands rummaging her bag for possibly a pack of tissues... that were non -existent as well.

Just as she was about to curse the heavens, a clean cloth was held out to her. She took it grateful to the person who she knew could be no other than her usual companion on campus.

“Thanks, Suzui.”

“Always welcome, Mary.” The brunette lad replied with a smile. “You really can’t get used to my first name, huh?” Ryota chuckled as Mary rolled her eyes at it.

“It feels weird and uncomfortable if I suddenly call you so familiarly like that.”

“And yet you’re fine with me calling you ‘Mary’?” He asked.

“Well, it’s my name, isn’t it? Everyone calls me that.”

“If you say so.” Ryota shrugged.

The pair continued walking in silence, the afternoon sun beginning to set in the visible horizon.

While Mary usually preferred this quiet between them, today she would’ve have liked it better if Ryota just... chatted her up like he always did. Lately, her mind had been swirling with a lot of thoughts, and she kind of wanted a distraction from them now.

It wasn’t like they were terrible thoughts, or things that tortured her psyche to a horrible degree that she’d be left sleepless and distraught. No.

They were rather plain, actually.

The musings of her mind were simple, and maybe related to all her insecurities and complexes growing up that had all but exploded when she was in high school.

Why those thoughts and feelings were coming back to her years later, she had no clue.

What she did know was that Mary liked to think she wasn't special.

Odd thing for her to think about when her talk was usually about being a winner, and now wanting to be looked down upon; wanting to be equals with her insane best friend; being someone who wanted to claim her life for herself as her own.

For someone so ambitious and prideful-she was self-aware of this-, she didn’t think this train of thought existed within her mind.

Looking at herself objectively, however, Mary knew she wasn’t really all that spectacular or gifted. Saotome Mary was nothing special.

Okay no, not that she wasn't special. She was, well... Not average, at least.

But compared to the other intense gamblers at school name she was at least.. Sane..r. than most of them.

And like the normal person she claimed to be, Mary went to college. Just like anyone her age would after graduating from high school.

So yes, if she really thought about it, she was going about, using her free will to choose the most mundane life route. Still beats following a pre-writen life plan, though.

If one were to talk about special- Crazy special, crazy and special, now that, that was Jabami Yumeko.

Yumeko, and the Momobami clan, and fucking Kirari, especially. Mary shivered at the thought of the latter. It was no secret that she hated her guts. They sort of got along? Maybe? But she would still sock her if she had the chance.

And yet, as much as Mary claimed to loathe the woman, she had found herself on the long list of applicants to Kirari’s very corporation.

Great.

Mary found herself registering as an intern for their a new branch of the employee services. A new project that Tsuzura- her dear old friend who she’d been reunited with recently, had shown her; and upon finding out Mary’s course, excitedly assisted her with the paperwork.

Mary sighed. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed after all.

“It still surprises me.” Suzui suddenly cut into her thoughts, meeting Mary’s curious gaze as they crossed a bridge on their way home, Mary spotting the building of their shared apartment in the distance.

It wasn’t as though they were in any sort of engagement other than being friends. Mary just felt that it would be better to split the bill with someone else while in college, and maybe living with someone would help ease some other kinds of life burdens- heck she didn’t know. She wasn’t loaded like all their other friends, neither was she working for someone as filthy rich as Kirari-fricking-Momobami.

There were weird rumors that had floated around them for the first year of Uni, with how often they were together, and apparently living under one roof. Almost. Mary had to explain that they had separate bedrooms and bathrooms. However, Mary was very keen on making it known that she was very much not into Ryota, and very very much gay.

At most, Ryota was her platonic husband, or something. Or dog. Whichever sounded better.

But back to the issue that had just flown over Mary’s head.

“What surprises you?” She responded to him naturally, as if she wasn’t just thinking about their whole arrangement and a dozen other things instead of replying to him right away.

“That you’d choose to take this course.”

“Hah? You saying it don’t suit me, Mr. Commerce?” Mary challenged with a glare.

Ryota’s eyes widened, hands held our defensively in front of him. “No! No, that’s not it at all! Actually...” He gave her a once over. “It might suit you a little too much. The uniform.”

“Oi, creep, what were you just thinking of, huh?” Mary growled, slapping his shoulder. “Stop treating my uniform like cosplay, gosh.”

“First of all, Yumeko was the one that called it that. Second, you have to admit, it almost looks like you are-geh! Mary, we’ve talked about violence!”

“Can it, mom.” Mary grumbled, walking up the steps of their apartment complex, already fishing for the keys in her jeans pocket. “You deserved that one.”

“Okay, but nursing, Mary. You. Someone as violent as you, who causes pain. You being a nurse- please put your fist down. This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

Mary sighed, other hand pushing their door open. “Whatever. You all make fun of me and constantly ask me why. I told you why so many times!”

Ryota laughed at Mary’s expense as the girl continued grumbling about judgmental friends not appreciating her goodwill.

“I mean. You all are wack.”

Ryota gasped,a little offended. “Says you-”

Mary chose to ignore that.

“Itsuki somehow keeps hurting her nails lately, someone like Sayaka looks like she could take a break from stress or else she’d collapse. Girls is bordering insanity, I tell you. Yumeko just... doesn’t give a shit about her health in general. I swear, if she gets one more fever this week, Imma-”

Mary inhaled to calm her nerves. Ranting about Yumeko would only stress her more. Speaking of which, she should message her about her meds later.

Continuing on, “Ririka can’t cook a substantial meal to save her life.” Mary complained, remembering the time she came over to the twins’ Condo, only to see stacks of various takeout on the counter. Sayaka had been gone on a business trip for about two weeks, and Mary didn’t think these two were the type to feast on fast food, of all things.

They wanted to ‘try out commoner food’, as Kirari put it, a teasing smirk on her face as she looked down on Mary again.

“She needs to learn to cook healthier! Essential life skills!”

“She has chefs for that-”

“Irrelevant!”

“It’s actually pretty relevant.” Ryota pointed out. “And what does that even have to do with nurs-”

“Anyway! I’m doing this because I want to, and because you all are... i-important to me or whatever.” Mary suddenly turned bashful. “Health is wealth and all that shit.” Her cheeks were dusted red as she turned around, marching towards the kitchen for a glass of water to cool the burning feeling overcoming her. “And because med would take too long before one of you fools accidentally kills yourself.” Mary added before Ryota could ask anymore questions. That last statement, she shook her head, believing that it really was plausible.

With all they’d been through, it wasn’t unbelievable at all.

Ryota smiled, raising his hands in defeat.

“Okay, okay. Got it. Will never ask about it again.”

“That’s what you assholes always say.” Mary growled, looking ready to pounce again before it was cut off by a sudden chill running up her spine, bringing about another strong sneeze that shook her whole frame. “Gosh, what is up with today?”

“How ironic. Our little nurse is getting sick?”

“Fuck no, screw off, Suzui.” Mary barked.

“Hmm...” Ryota rubbed his chin with his fingers, pretending to be in thought. “Maybe someone is talking about you behind your back?” He jokingly provided.

“Ugh, if I had to say...” She sniffed. “It feels like my life is in danger. Or like someone's looking at me like a "thing" again. Ugh... It feels like all those times with Kirari. Or Yumeko... or both. Are their ghosts haunting me now?”

“Don’t just go off killing our friends like that.” Ryota scolded, approaching Mary and gripping her shoulders from behind before pushing her towards the direction of their rooms. “Maybe getting changed into warmer clothes will help.”

“Maybe.” Mary began walking on her own just a few steps before reaching her room. “Ayt, see ya then.”

“Bye.”

Before they could both enter their respective quarters, their phones went off, a message from the same person, they figured.

Sure enough, the sender couldn’t be any more familiar to them.

“Guess I’ll just grab a coat then.” Mary sighed. “Can’t really turn down an invitation from her.” She chuckled.

“You’re right about that.” Ryota shook his head, amused.

“Let’s go meet her then.” Mary finalized, to which the boy nodded in agreement. “Come on Suzui. Time to meet up with Yumeko.”

Somehow, deep down, Mary had a bad feeling.

She wasn’t special. So she hoped this meeting would be as normal as normal gets.

Somehow.

.

[butwhatifidothis]

Damn, does the writers waste Claude's potential. How about his support with Ingrid? Someone who has the crest his advisor shares the last name with, and part of a family that broke off from the Alliance to the Kingdom. The same Kingdom that the nobles wanted independence from? Or, how about gauging her xenophobia, since his main goal is to bridge both of his heritages, and maybe use the other foreign nations as stepping stones as ridding prejudices? No, just inferior Sylvain/Ingrid? Damn it all.

...Alrighty there anon you had me checkin’ my drafts to make sure I didn’t accidentally post the thing I’m workin’ on rn because it’s all about Claude’s wasted potential lmao had me sweatin’. 

Got long so under the cut

But yeah, Claude’s supports with Ingrid are some of my least favorite in the game because of the big flashing opportunity IntSys had to make Ingrid’s hatred for Duscurians something more than a “ahh let’s just have one support deal with this, I’m sure only Dedue would have any problem with this”. Dimitri is also fine with his childhood friend hating another close friend of his just because of their race, I guess. I get it, you don’t want a repeat of FEA/Fates where a character has That One Trait that keeps getting brought up in nearly every support convo, but like... this is kinda big?? Ingrid has supports with two of the biggest opponents of discriminatory thought, one of them directly related to the people she hates, and it’s just... never brought up by either of them. 

The only reason I give the Dimitri/Ingrid supports a pass somewhat is because what we get is still interesting, but my god her supports with Claude are just... bland. Uninteresting. The same basic “You act too much like [x] you should be [y]/Nooo wait you were better as [x] you’re fine the way you are” shtick with barely any twist or originality whatsoever.

To spoil some of that post I’m doing, I was thinking that this is actually a perfect opportunity to see some hints of Almyra’s culture? Hear me out: Claude says that cringey “You should smile more” line (after re-working it to be less... so demeaning - Claude is rarely so blatantly rude so it’s always felt strange to see that here, it’s like the writers forgot they weren’t writing Sylvain sometimes in this support) and Ingrid reacts the same way as she does, but instead of Ingrid continuing on from that, have Claude... be confused. Have that saying be cringey and demeaning to Fodlani people, but not Almyrans. Have him say something like “Whoa, did I say something wrong?” and genuinely mean it. Have Ingrid be mad and go along the lines of “Oh, you know what you said, don’t even try to play stupid!” but Claude’s just like... what. 

Because look, the guy’s only been in Fodlan for a year! And it seems like most of that time was spent in some form of politics - we never hear otherwise and we know how actually busy Claude is working on his dream. Some things about casual Fodlan culture are sure to fall through the cracks when he’s actually living in it and not just being told how Fodlan is like, which is something I desperately wished 3H explored more. Think of it like a “you shouldn’t shake hands with a firm grip” sort of cultural difference. So from this point in the supports we can hear from Claude some things about Almyra as a response to some of the things Ingrid accuses him of: A noble doesn’t yawn in public? Well, maybe her nobles don’t, but that’s not to say that’s the same everywhere (wink wink nudge nudge), something along those lines. We can also see Ingrid’s reaction to these differing culture ideals: Confusion over how different it is? Curiosity over want knighthood entails for other cultures? A positive or negative reaction? I wanna see that!

Hell, we already kinda have that - Claude meditating in the morning is a legitimate practice of Zoroastrianism, an ancient religion originating in what is now Iran (to give a basic description, to say the least), which Almyra is partly based off of, for example. This isn’t the first time something related to Zoroastrianism is brought up with Claude, as seen with Annette’s supports (the fire ritual he describes closely mirrors the Chaharshanbe Suri, a practice of Zoroastrianism that celebrates the spirits of the dead - again, to oversimplify it), so it’s likely this is something Claude genuinely does and is genuinely part of Almyran culture. 

Give us more shit like that! Or focus on her hatred of Duscurians and how Claude reacts to seeing that kind of hate up close! Or give us more Judith/ Kingdom and Alliance lore! That’s three topics this support could have chosen to focus on that are infinitely more interesting from a character and lore point than the played-out trope we’re given - but on the other hand, like, even that had potential to go somewhere! Claude and Ingrid pointing out the other’s flaws and genuinely trying to fix that part of themselves but failing despite their earnest efforts could have been something! There’s a reason people like that trope! But they both just give up and the support cops out with the “you’re perfect the way you were :)” when no they weren’t! They pointed out legit flaws! Claude does come across as empty and dishonest even when he’s trying not to and that lowers people’s view of him! Ingrid does come across as self-righteous even when she doesn’t mean to and that pushes people away from her! Those are not quirky lil’ personality traits, they actively harm their relationships with others! But nope, Claude and Ingrid have to have the “cute” relationship of bumbling husband and nagging wife but oh neve you worry they have kids so it’s totally a loving relationship (which is what their ending depicts them as - fun fact, this is the only ending Claude has that mentions him having kids!), so they couldn’t dare, oh I dunno, help each other develop past their flaws or anything. Ingrid couldn’t help Claude come across as more earnest (because if there’s one thing Ingrid is it’s that she’s extremely honest) and Claude couldn’t help Ingrid relax some, no they had to reenact a dynamic you’d see on fucking George Lopez

Just... yeah. Wish something better was done with them.