#I think this was already made but I mean he ain't wrong

[bread1loaf-toast]

"With a pen that writes on waffles?"

[miange1]

THANOS

male reader, thanos being pushy, bathroom sex, i'm a heavy believer thanos loves rough sex, aphrodisiacs, reader pretends he feels nothing for thanos, reader is a Korean speaker yet race is not mentioned, italics means switching to english, homesickness, anal fingering, being forced to stay quiet, thanos has a big dick and you cant prove me wrong, im 100% sure he's experienced in every kind of sex possible, brian moser typa freak, reader isn't a virgin he just hasn't had say gex

"Ah! You're alive!" He smiled, coming to hug you tight in his arms. He took small note of how you looked at him, how happy he was even after many people had died, there was no reason to be happy.

Yet to him, there was. He was seeing you, and he was head over heels just for you. He would pull multiple things just to make sure you wouldn't be hurt in the slightest, whether it meant keeping you close to him, or having others die just to keep you by his side.

Scoffing, you shoved yourself off of him and squinted your eyes towards him. "Don't touch me. You're weird." His voice turned whiney as he did the exact opposite, throwing his body into your shoulders and hanging off of you. "Come on, this ain't primary school is it? I don't have any cooties." He shook you slightly noticing that you laughed, he swore he heard it but you shook your head and frowned— claiming you did nothing of that sort.

"He has no interest in you." Nam-gyu came up behind him, patting his arm. Thanos shook his head, "No, he does. He just doesn't know it yet." Nam-gyu gave him a weird look, looking back over at you and watching as your expression changed when you went to your own group of choice. "See that? He didn't smile at you." Thanos planted his palm on the brunettes face, ignoring him and shoving him off.

"Oh— dude!"

"Shut up." Thanos kept his eyes on you, but his words directed towards his friend. "I can tell when someone is playing hard to get, it's easy." Nam-gyu shrugged, "I can't tell."

"Well of course you can't." Nam-gyu made a noise of offense. What was that supposed to mean?

Night fell, and everyone just wanted to sleep. Needed a break, especially you. It was pathetic to you, your stomach hurt and you felt like crying every single second. You missed your mom, and you just wanted to go home. You wanted to eat at the dinner table with her again, you wanted to mess around again, and feel happy. But now you were here just because you thought this was a quick way to get money.

"Fucking scam.." you muttered, getting from your mattress to head off to the bathroom. It was quiet, the floors squeaky underneath the unbranded shoes you wore on your feet. This whole situation was unsettling.

You took a moment, splashing a bit of water on your face to clear your head.

Multiple thoughts that ran through your head had been interrupted by the door opening. "I'll be out in a minute.." thinking it was a guard, you wiped your face and got ready to leave.

"Leave? I just got here."

Oh, thanos could just hear your eyes roll before he even saw you. "Why the long face, hm?" His purple hair blurred passed you as he leaned on the sink, grabbing your hand to pull you closer to him. When you didn't pull away, he already knew he had you.

"It's none of your business." He looked up a bit, shrugging. "Good point. But I don't like that answer." God he was annoying.

A harsh breath pushed from your nostrils, taking a moment to think about what to say. You thought, and you thought, but then you thought too hard and your lip started to quiver slightly. Eyes getting watery, trying to get something out but it was silent and Thanos didn't expect this from you.

He himself stuttered a bit before he took into action, feeling your hand pull away slightly he tightened his grip and pulled you closer. The usual smug look was much more caring and considerate truly wanting to hear you out. "I'm sorry I just.." more broken sobs came out.

"I'm sick..sick, of this. I want to go home, Thanos I want to go home." From a few inches away, to hugging yourself into his chest he allowed himself to have his arms around you.

A slight smile tugged at the edge of his lips, it's not that he was going to fake comfort you because he really did feel sorry. It's just that this was his chance.

He stopped hugging you for a moment, opening his necklace, taking out an orange pill and offering it to you. "It's something that will make you feel better." He mumbled a small, "I promise." After seeing your suspicious face.

You grabbed it, observing it a bit. "Thanos. Is this a sex drug?" He eyes averted a bit, lips going into a thin line. Your face had pure disbelief, but you popped it anyways. Before he could even smile, your lips connected with his and you backed him into the stall of the pink doors.

The two of you were already hard, grinding on each other and practically swapping spit. His hands were kept on your hips, making sure you stuck to him like glue and didn't part from him.

"Oh fuck.." your voice, God he loved your voice and he needed to hear more of it. His lips came to your neck, open mouthed and sloppy and making sure marks were left for others to see that he finally had you.

Your fingers went to his hair, gripping them due to the pleasure he was bringing you. Damn he was good even if he was just dry humping you and sucking your neck. It made you think how many times he must have had sex before this as well, making you feel just a bit jealous.

You gripped tighter, pulling his head back so he could look you in your eyes. You shivered a bit feeling saliva drip down to your collar bone. Gross. "Fuck anyone after this, and I'll kill you myself." He giggled like an idiot, nodding his head. "Yes sir."

His tongue came to suck on his own fingers for a bit, while his other hand worked on pushing your pants and boxers down. "This gonna feel weird, just give it a minute." His joking tone dropped, giving you a bit of a feeling in your dick. He sounded like he wasn't high 24/7 though the two of you were high off of an aphrodisiac. It was just attractive.

His fingers prodded for a moment, before pushing in and you had instantly yelped. He pushed your head into his shoulder, shushing you. "It isn't that I care." He spoke softly into your ear, "But it would bother you if someone heard, hm?" His painted fingers moved inside of you, thrusting in and out and he knew exactly what he was doing and it had you crumbling right then and there, you were sure he was holding half your body weight up.

"Thanos, Thanos, fuck.." He himself had groaned, his own eyes rolling back hearing you moan out just for him. His fingers pulled out, making sure you kept still. "Don't move too much." Your eyebrow cocked a bit, what did he mean? He took out his own, tip red and sensitive as he messaged it up and down just a bit.

But you, your eyes were wide with surprise and almost regret. "No." He looked back up at you, "No?" But he needed a yes.. "No. No way is that gonna fit." Oh, that was it. He almost thought you were gonna leave him like this. "Oh, but please." He put your chin up, kissing at your neck again to keep you distracted.

"It's only gonna sting a little..tiny.." He pushed inside, too eager to wait it out and go inch by inch. You winced, hitting his shoulder as even more tears pricked at your eyes yet they were tears of pleasure.

"Shush, hey hey, stop moving." You whined and complained. What did he mean stop moving? This fucking hurt! But he only had so much time to prep you up.

"Slow, go slow—" "I am going slow." The feeling of his girth stretching you open was pain you never felt before, yet it felt so good at the same time. Groans turned into moans and whimpers, your harsh grip turning into soft squeezes on his clothes from each thrust he was giving you.

"Shit..so tight.." As much as he had wanted you to moan loud for him, you were getting a bit too loud yet you couldn't help it. He kept you preoccupied by kissing you, muffling your noises down just a little bit.

He was so damn close, could feel your pre on open skin and could feel himself pulsing inside of you, he was so close—

"Player 230, and 231."

[solastarr]

Ms.NotSoIndependent

Stack Moore(Sinners2025)x black reader:

Genre: smut with very little angst

Summary: once stack comes from chicago. he realizes how independent you've become and the tension you have towards him

Preview: “I knew you’d be mad... but you been treatin’ me like I'm just any other normal ass nigga. Like I don’t mean nothin’ to you,” he said, squatting in front of you so you were eye level.“Obviously, you forgot who the fuck I am... so let me remind you real quick.”

Word count: 1,192

Warning: the content with in this story contains sexual themes of aggressive conversations, fingering, smut, cunnilingus

It had been about two weeks since Stack came back into town after he and his brother's unannounced trip. He returned thinking the same sweet, charismatic, and loving girl he left behind would greet him with hugs and kisses. Instead, he was met with a cold, nonchalant, and independent woman who wouldn’t even give him a passing glance.

He knew leaving without telling you was wrong, so he had been trying to make up for it by helping you reach dishes on the top shelf, fixing the leaky sink, even offering to carry your groceries home. But every time, he was either ignored, brushed off, or straight-up told you didn’t need his help. Stack had been trying to keep his cool, hoping you’d eventually break out of this bratty phase. But today... you pushed him too far. And he snapped.

You were already having a rough day. The chores around the house stacked up as high as the dishes in the sink. Your mood was on edge when Stack decided to stop by.

“What you got planned for today?” he asked, trying to start a conversation.

You didn’t even bother responding to the man whose voice irritated you every time he spoke.

“Okay… still being a brat,” he mumbled under his breath. You turned around and shot him the dirtiest look you could manage.

Leaning lazily against a chair in the kitchen, he stayed unfazed. “Me and my brother are having the grand opening of the juke joint tonight. I want you there for me.”You immediately responded, almost cutting him off, “Not interested. I got too much to do around the house anyway.” You went back to scrubbing the dishes without giving him another look. Stack took it as another chance to lend a hand. “Well, then let me help you. I really wa—”, “I don’t need your help, Stack!” you snapped, swinging around too fast. The dish in your hand slipped and shattered across the floor. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. You dropped to your knees to pick up the broken pieces carefully. “I don’t even know why you’re here. You left me. I’ve moved on. You need to do the same.”you said coldly.

Stack’s face dropped. His patience finally ran out. “You know I’ve been tryin’ to be nice to you,” he said lowly, the tension in the room thickening. The house grew suffocatingly silent.

Stack started walking toward you, the crunch of porcelain under his boots echoing off the walls.

“I knew you’d be mad... but you been treatin’ me like I'm just any other normal ass nigga. Like I don’t mean nothin’ to you,” he said, squatting in front of you so you were eye level.“Obviously, you forgot who the fuck I am... so let me remind you real quick.”

You stood up just as he did, trying to hold your ground.“I don’t know what the hell you talkin’ about.”He stepped forward, closing the space between you, backing you into the kitchen counter.You could feel the heat radiating off his body.��Boy, move,” you warned, trying to slip past him, but he grabbed your wrists, holding you in place. He leaned into your ear. “You forgot what it felt like when daddy was here to take care of you. But I'm back now... and I ain't goin’ nowhere.” His words made your breath hitch.

Your eyes scanned his face, trying to tell if he was serious. He started kissing down your neck, rubbing your curves, slowly lifting your dress. You gasped at the way his hands roamed, but you had longed for his touch for too long to push him away. “Stack... move,” you tried to protest, your voice trembling with hidden moans.His mouth found your sweet spot near your jawline, making your knees buckle. Stack noticed immediately, smirking against your skin.

“See? All that 'I don’t need you' bullshit...” he murmured. “But your body can’t lie to me, baby.”

You hated how your body betrayed you.But with Stack... you couldn’t even fight it.You barely registered being lifted onto the counter until you felt the cold countertop on your skin, making you gasp. Stack ran his hands up your thighs, giving small squeezes, reaching your panties.The rough pads of his fingers and his husky cologne made you melt.

He stopped, looking you directly in the eyes as he rubbed you through your panties.

Your moans slipped out despite yourself.He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice rough. He leaned closer, only inches away from your face.

“Tell me you want me to leave... and I'll go.”You wanted to slap him. Push him away. Cuss him out for the pain he caused when he left. But no words came out, only breathless moans. Because deep down, you didn’t want him to leave. And he knew it.

Stack smirked, feeling your surrender.

He ripped your panties off, slipping two fingers inside you, massaging your breast with his other hand.“I know you’re mad at me for leavin’,” he growled, “but daddy’s back now. And I’m gonna take real good care of you, okay?”He slowed the movement of his fingers to an agonizing pace, waiting for your answer.“O-Okay,” you finally whimpered out, desperate for him to keep going.

He chuckled lowly. “...Okay what?” he teased, stopping again.“Okay, Daddy!” you cried out. Proud, Stack laughed in your face, cocky as ever. “There’s my girl.”

He slipped his fingers out and pushed them into your mouth.You sucked eagerly, happy to have your man back. Then he kissed you, a long, heated kiss that felt like a lifetime of waiting poured into it. When he finally broke away, he stared at your swollen lips, the hickeys blooming on your neck, the sweat forming on your skin.“Let me take care of you. Make up for lost time.”

Stack dropped to his knees between your thighs, kissing you everywhere until he reached your pussy. Without hesitation, he started devouring you, like he had been starving for you.You almost lost control instantly, gripping the back of his head, moaning his name.When you started grinding against his face, chasing the high he was giving you, he locked eyes with you.The sight nearly pushed you over the edge. But just when you were about to cum, Stack abruptly pulled away.

“Wait—Stack, please,” you whined, desperate for more.

He smirked, standing up, adjusting his suit while your juices still coated his face.

“And you said you didn’t need me,” he teased. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small wad of cash and tucked it between your breasts, brushing your skin just enough to make you shiver. “Now go get you a new dress, shoes, and get pretty for me. Cause we're going dancing tonight” He kissed your lips one last time before heading to the front door.Before closing it behind him, he turned and shot you a wink with his signature smirk. You couldn’t help but smile, still aching for the touch you swore you didn’t need.

~ first post I hope yall like it!💫

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

In which, a girl tries to flirt with one of the MHA boys. Part 1 Part 2 here

Characters included: Denki Kaminari, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Hitoshi Shinso Side Note: The reader is a badass chick 🤤

Check out the reverse (someone flirts with the reader) here

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the sweet romantic type to anyone but you. He was the kind of guy who, in public, showed love in his own way—by pulling you into his side possessively, scowling at anyone who looked at you wrong, and grumbling curse-laced insults that somehow still made your heart flutter. In private? Yeah, I’ll leave that to your imagination.

He didn’t need anyone else. He had you. And that was enough.

Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to get the memo.

Like the new girl.

She had transferred into U.A. a few weeks ago, and from the moment she laid eyes on your man, she had been on a mission. At first, it was subtle. Asking him unnecessary questions in class. Laughing a little too hard at his brash remarks. Finding excuses to sit near him during lunch.

But then it got bolder.

She started showing up outside the gym when he was training. Bringing him extra snacks. “Accidentally” tripping in front of him so he’d catch her. Touching his arm and marveling at his muscles.

You could tell it annoyed him. Bakugo wasn’t exactly the patient type, and the way his eye twitched whenever she got too close was proof enough.

Yet, she kept pushing.

One day, she took it too far.

You and the Bakusquad were hanging out in the common room when she waltzed in, making a beeline for your boyfriend.

“Bakugo~” she sang, plopping down beside him, far too close for comfort.

You leaned against the couch, watching with mild amusement as he immediately tensed.

“The hell do you want?” he muttered, clearly uninterested.

She giggled, completely ignoring his irritation. “I made something for you!” She held out a scarf—black and orange, his colors. “I knitted it myself! I noticed you don’t wear scarves, so I figured I could give you one of mine. Now every time you wear it, you’ll think of me!”

You snorted. Oh, this girl was bold.

Bakugo just stared at the scarf like it was an insult to his entire existence. “The fuck? I don’t wear scarves.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” She pouted. “Just try it on for me—”

Bakugo's eye twitched. "I ain't wearin’ that."

Her smile faltered for a split second, but she pushed on, lifting the scarf toward him. "Just try it on! I promise it’ll look great—"

Before she could finish her sentence, you snatched the scarf right out of her hands.

"Wow," you hummed, examining it. "Soft, warm… a nice shade of orange." You nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I think I know the perfect use for it."

She rolled her eyes at you, her happy-go-lucky personality disappearing instantly. “Really?”

With a sickly sweet smile, you turned on your heel, walked straight to the common room’s fireplace, and—without a moment’s hesitation—tossed the scarf in.

The flames swallowed it instantly.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"WHAT THE HELL?!" she shrieked, eyes wide with horror.

You dusted off your hands. "Oh, sorry. Did you actually think he was gonna wear that?" You gave her a pitying look. "It was just taking up space."

Katsuki, who had been sitting in stunned silence, suddenly let out a loud, barking laugh. "Damn, babe."

Kirishima was struggling to hold back his own laughter. Kaminari? Nearly choking on his drink. Even Mina was giggling into her hands.

The girl looked between you and the burning scarf; face twisted in disbelief. “Y-You—”

"You seriously thought he’d wear something you made?" you cut her off, tilting your head. "I mean, I get it. You tried. A for effort and all that." You shrugged. "But he’s already got everything he needs."

You turned back to your carmine-eyed boyfriend, who was still smirking, and leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to his cheek.

"Right, Kats?"

His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, crimson eyes locked onto the girl as he smirked.

"Damn right."

The girl stood there, fuming, hands clenched into fists before she finally let out a frustrated huff and stormed out.

He chuckled against your neck. "Damn, that was brutal."

You grinned. "She had it coming."

He squeezed your waist, his voice low and amused. "Shit like that makes me love you even more, y'know that?"

Outcome: Scarf? Incinerated. Girl? Humbled. Relationship? Stronger than steel.

Denki Kaminari

Denki Kaminari had always been a flirt. From the start, he was a natural charmer, but when he met you, something changed. You grounded him. You made him feel loved and appreciated. You weren’t just another fling—you were the one who tamed him.

And when you two started dating, his flirtatious ways disappeared—at least, with anyone but you. Still, his naturally friendly personality sometimes sent the wrong signals, especially to girls who didn’t know any better.

Take a recent example. A new girl had just transferred to U.A. on recommendation. She was pretty, sociable, and quickly made friends with everyone—including you. But it was obvious she had a thing for Denki. She was always flirting with him, running her fingers through his hair, applying lip gloss the moment he walked in, dousing herself in sickly-sweet vanilla perfume so he’d notice whenever she passed by.

But you? You weren’t insecure. If anything, you found her antics hilarious. She actually thought she had a chance. Maybe she missed the lipstick stains on his cheeks and neck. Maybe she overlooked the way he whistled whenever you walked by, how he absentmindedly played with your hair while you talked to Mina, how he cornered you during lunch, hugged you from behind, or kissed the top of your head. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the matching promise rings, the shared bentos, or the inside jokes.

Oh, who were you kidding?

She knew.

She knew, and she was still trying.

One morning, while you and Momo giggled over your new matching nails, you caught sight of her in your peripheral vision. She was strutting over to Denki again. But something was different this time.

There, dyed into her perfectly shiny black hair, was a bright yellow lightning bolt.

And that was it.

You watched as she twirled in front of him, eyes sparkling. “Do you notice anything different?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

Denki looked uncomfortable. This girl was a whole new level of delusional.

“Uh, Amai… I have a girlfriend,” he stated flatly.

Her smile disappeared for a second before she stepped closer, recovering quickly. “Well, I don’t see her. Besides, she doesn’t have to know.” She tugged at his tie, pulling him from his standing position so that their faces were centimeters away, but he immediately placed a hand on her wrist, pushing her away. You took off your shoes and quietly strode closer to them.

By now, everyone in the room had gone silent, eyes locked on the three of you, waiting to see what would happen.

“Turn around,” you said, voice flat yet filled with annoyance.

Before she could react, you grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. Her body arched, and she locked eyes with you in shock.

“Now you see her.”

In one swift motion, you pulled her to the ground and straddled her, delivering a solid punch to her nose. Something cracked. You hoped it was her nose—but then you saw something else.

Your nails.

Your beautiful, fresh, matching nails.

Broken.

“You bitch! You broke my nail!” you gasped in outrage.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stammered something, but you weren’t interested. Instead, you landed another punch.

It took both Denki and Sero to pry you off her—but not before you got in a good kick to her stomach.

Let’s just say one of you ended up in Recovery Girl’s office, and the other got detention for a week.

Mr. Aizawa, being the legend that he was, let you use your phone during detention. What an amazing teacher.

Eijiro Kirishima

You were used to people liking Eijiro.

It was impossible not to like him—he was strong, dependable, kind, and had the kind of energy that made everyone feel included. He wasn’t just a hero in training, he was a damn good person.

But Kanna Fukuda? She wasn’t just crushing on him.

She was competing with you.

Kanna was a Support Course genius—a prodigy when it came to crafting hero gear. And for whatever reason, she had convinced herself that you were just a phase, a distraction, something Eijiro would eventually “grow out of.”

She thought that if she could prove she was more useful to him—more essential to his future—he’d eventually choose her.

Too bad for her, Eijiro wasn’t choosing anyone but you.

At first, you ignored her attempts.

The custom gear. The constant requests to work with only Eijiro. The way she always “just happened” to be around whenever he finished training, ready with some new, “perfectly designed” item that would “enhance his performance.”

She was always hovering. But Eijiro never gave her any attention.

He was polite, sure, but he never went out of his way to talk to her. He never lingered when she spoke. Half the time, he didn’t even realize she was there because his attention was always on you.

And that? That drove her crazy.

One afternoon, in the middle of the U.A. common area, she made her biggest move yet. Eijiro had just finished an intense sparring session, sweat still dripping from his forehead as he leaned back against the couch beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

And then, out of nowhere, Kanna appeared. How the hell did she get access to the 1A building?

She placed something onto the table in front of him—a brand-new pair of hero gloves.

“I made these for you,” she announced, smiling like she’d already won. “They’re impact-resistant, reinforced with carbon fiber, and custom-fitted to your exact hand measurements.”

Your eyes narrowed. Hand measurements? He sure as hell never gave her those. Eijiro blinked at the gloves, looking more confused than impressed. “Uh… thanks, but I already got a pair.”

“These are better.” She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You should let me take care of you—I mean your gear, Kirishima. I mean, it’s kinda my specialty, right? I can make sure everything you use is perfectly tailored for you.”

And then, she had the audacity to glance at you—like she was proving a point, like she was winning.

You sat up straighter, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. “Ohhh, impact-resistant, huh?” You grabbed the gloves off the table, turning them over in your hands. “That’s so impressive, Kanna. Really.”

Her chest puffed up. “I know, right?”

And then, before she could say another word, you used your quirk. A white light emitted and them you ripped the hideous pair of gloves in half.

The room went silent.

Kanna’s smug expression shattered. “YOU—WHAT THE HELL?!”

You tilted your head, examining the torn gloves. “Huh. I thought they were impact-resistant.”

“You—” Her hands shook as she pointed at you. “D-Do you know how long that took me to—”

“They weren’t gonna last,” you interrupted, tossing the ruined gloves back onto the table. “They were never gonna be strong enough for him.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line.

You smiled. “You can make all the fancy gear you want, but he doesn’t need it.” You glanced at Eijiro, who was watching you with awe and admiration in his eyes. “He’s already strong enough on his own. And he sure as hell doesn’t need you.”

Kanna looked at Eijiro. Waiting. Hoping. Begging for him to defend her.

But all he did was sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. Listen, Kanna, I gotta agree with her on this one.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I really appreciate the effort, but… I already have everything I need.”

And then, right in front of everyone, he turned to you—grinned—and kissed you.

It wasn’t just some quick peck.

It was slow, deliberate, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your skin—a clear, undeniable claim.

Kanna’s face flushed deep red.

She didn’t say another word.

She just grabbed the ruined gloves, turned, and walked out.

The moment she was gone, chaos erupted.

“OH MY GOD, YOU JUST DESTROYED HER!” Mina shrieked.

“THAT WAS SO FREAKIN’ HOT,” Kaminari howled.

Bakugo smirked, arms crossed. “About damn time. I was gonna blow her ass to America if she continued.”

Eijiro just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, pressing another kiss against your temple. “That was seriously the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

You grinned, curling your fingers into his red hair. “Had to put her in her place, didn’t I?”

He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Heck yeah, you did.”

And if anyone still thought they had a chance with your man?

They sure as hell didn’t now.

Hitoshi Shinso

The late-night café was quiet, the air filled with the scent of coffee and pastries, soft jazz playing in the background. You and Hitoshi sat in a cozy corner booth, enjoying your drinks, his violet eyes half-lidded as he stirred his coffee.

It was calm. Relaxing. Until some idiot thought they had a chance.

A guy, cocky and clearly feeling bold, slid into the booth beside you, completely ignoring Shinsou’s presence.

"Hey there," he smirked, resting his arm along the back of your seat. "What’s a cutie like you doing all alone at this hour?"

You blinked. Alone?

Hitoshi let out a long, slow sigh, taking a sip of his coffee before finally looking up.

"…You must be suicidal."

The guy frowned. "What?"

Hitoshi tilted his head, eyes dark and unreadable. "I mean, you have to be, right? Walking up to someone else’s girl and pulling this kind of shit?"

The guy scoffed. "Relax, man. She can make her own choices—"

You snorted. "Yeah. And I choose to stay with my boyfriend."

Hitoshi leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. "Tell you what," he murmured, voice low, almost hypnotic. "Why don’t you walk out of here, forget this ever happened, and go rethink your life choices?"

The guy blinked. His body stiffened.

Then, without another word, he stood up and walked straight out the door.

You raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t even have to activate your quirk, did you?"

Shinsou smirked, lazy and satisfied. "Didn’t have to. He was already an idiot."

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. "That was kinda hot."

He grinned, violet eyes glinting. "Damn right it was."

[chrissturnsfav]

can you write something about rapper!chris getting a fight with some guy after he said something rude about singer!reader and she cleans his cuts after???

⋆.˚✮ singer!reader helps rapper!chris after a fight

the party is loud, packed, the bass shaking the floor beneath your heels. you and chris came together, but as always, he disappeared into his circle, and you into yours. you don’t mind—you like letting him do his thing while you sip your drink, laughing with your friends. this is how most of the parties go.

but then, across the room, there’s a shift. raised voices. movement.

"yo, chill, chill—" someone’s saying, but it doesn't work, because the next second, you hear chris' voice.

"the fuck you just say?"

your stomach drops. you turn, heart picking up, just in time to see chris shoving some guy back, jaw clenched, eyes dark with something dangerous.

the guy—tall, cocky, probably drunk—grins, like he thinks this is funny. "what? i said your girl got a nice ass. real nice. bet she—"

he doesn’t finish the sentence. chris swings. oh, fuck.

the hit lands clean, a sickening crack echoing over the music. the guy stumbles back, clutching his face. chaos erupts—drinks spill, people scatter, voices rise.

"chris, relax!" nick shouts, rushing in.

but chris isn't relaxed. he's on him again, shoving him, jaw tight, eyes dark. "nah, keep talkin' that shit! see what happens!"

matt grabs his arm, pulling him back before he can throw another punch. "bro, stop. you made your point."

chris is breathing heavy, his knuckles dripping red. you move before you even think, pushing through the circle, reaching for him.

"chris," you say, softer than you mean to.

his head snaps to you. his body is still tense, still coiled like he’s ready to go again, but his expression shifts the second he sees your face.

"come with me," you murmur, rolling your eyes, fingers curling around his wrist.

chris lets you pull him away. his brothers let go, watching as you tug him down the hall, away from the crowd, into a random ass bathroom.

you shut the door behind you, locking out the noise. the air is thick, heavy with the scent of alcohol, cologne, sweat. chris leans against the counter, shoulders still tight, jaw still clenched.

you grab some paper towels, wetting them under the faucet, then take his hand—his knuckles are a mess, blood smeared across his skin, already bruising. you gently begin dabbing at the blood, making him hiss, and you give him a look.

"don’t be a baby," you murmur, focusing on his hand. "you're an idiot," you sigh, pressing the towel to the worst of it.

chris huffs out a small laugh. "man, fuck that dude. talkin' shit like i wasn’t right there."

"i know," you say softly. you're not mad at him. you get it. "but you don't have to fight every person that talks about me..."

he scoffs, eyes still burning as he smirks at you. "nah, see, that’s where you wrong. 'cause i do."

you sigh, shaking your head, going back to dabbing at the cut. his other hand finds your waist, warm and steady, fingers pressing into your skin like he needs to feel you there.

"you mad at me?" he asks, quieter now.

you shake your head, shrugging. "no. just…worried about you."

chris watches you, his expression softening. "ain't shit to worry about, mama. you know i gotchu."

you pause, looking at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. "i know," you whisper, smiling softly.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @sturns-mermaid , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101 , @malsmind , @mattsleftball , @softhyunieeee

@chrissturnsfav ™

[lxvvie]

Do you think Graves would be open to teaching his s/o about how to kiss and make out properly if they had little experience ..? Totally not me projecting my own lack of experience with men😭😭😭

Idk the idea for some reason is really endearing but also really sexy. Something about the patience that theyre having with their partner and guiding them, validating them...I have issues omfg

Now, darlin', don't you fret. There's nothing wrong with being a little inexperienced, not by a long shot, and he's a patient fella. A very... hands-on teacher, too. If you know what I mean, sweetheart. 😏

Graves is the one who has you straddling him, hands resting dangerously low on your hips (if they're not cupping that cute ass of yours already). He's talking you through it, smooth timbre telling you to open that pretty mouth of yours for his tongue, soft crooning helping you come down whenever you get lightheaded from all the making out you're doing—"Breathe, baby."

And when you've made progress, Graves ain't above praising you, kissing the tip of your nose, kissing your forehead, and gently going,

"Good darlin'."

[avaredava]

Can I have your thoughts on sexual tension with jjk men? Like the kind where you both want each other and can't do anything about it?

Kisses ❤️❤️

Yeah of course! If this isn't what you mean by what you want I'll redo it don't worry it's no biggie! I'd rather you say something and I PROMISE i will re-do it! ♥️🫵

Master list's

MDNI

Satoru Gojo:

You and Satoru were out shopping for lingerie (he made you), but he wanted to help his girl feel pretty in his defence. You both walk into the store and look around and see a very nice set. Baby blue. You can already tell he's rock hard. "Should I try these on baby?" You ask teasingly. "Yeah." He bluntly says. He wants to drag you into that changing room and fuck the shit out of you while you wear that- until you and him are soaked with sweat cum and tears. But the door is a curtain and there's a worker right beside it. So you really can't get frisky. He groans when you tell him no but you try it on and walk out to show him, since it was just girls out there. He made sure no men were there.

You honestly just gave him a bigger boner and a raging emotion he's never felt. Neediness, wanting, horny... He wants you so bad. You're so getting it when you get home just make sure you have your soul after that. He wants to fuck that out too.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Megumi Fushiguro

You were sitting beside him listening to Gojo yap to the classroom about reverse technique and blabbering about how awesome and hot he is, which was slightly annoying but everyone learned to tune him out. "He's an idiot." Megumi mumbled like the grump he is. He was mindlessly rubbing your thigh gently under the table. But you were ovulating and this was just getting you fucking wet. And he was hotter than usual, I mean he was always hot- yeah he is. Your mind was squirming with thoughts and you were soaked at this point. He noticed that your face was flushed and he did a small grin. "What's wrong baby." He mumbles into your ear. You take a sharp inhale of breath and he moves his hand higher playing with your panties feeling the wet spot. He randomly pulls hand away and whispers.

"Princess, you're gonna have to wait."

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Nanami Kento

Nanami has the prettiest little secretary. You. He loves those short skirts and tight dress shirts that drive him crazy. When you sit in the corner of the room in his office with that lollipop in your mouth sucking it, he just wishes that it's his cock in your mouth. He swears you do it on purpose sometimes! It drives him absolutely wild. Short tight outfits, sucking and smirking, ain't even the worst thing. It's the fact that you have stripped in his office to change from your clothes to your work outfit. He's never seen you change but he finds the evidence. Your wet pretty pink lacy panties with a bow in the front and a matching bra and he jerks off to your underwear and stuffs the bra in his mouth so he's not loud. He really wishes he was sucking the thing the bra was holding (your tits) not the bra. He thinks he might go mad.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toji Fushiguro

You recently got a book. It had a gun scene, where she got gun fucked by her man, and fuck Toji has a gun. And that's for some reason a turn on for you. Your ovulation time makes you extra horny. And just seeing Toji makes you aroused. He is one fine man and god you can stare at him for hours. He comes home holding his gun from his last shoot out and his muscles compressed in that tight shirt of his. God damn. You looked him up and down imagining his gun rubbing your clit rubbing up down your slit going inside, teasing you with it. He sees you checking him out, wanting something. He knows.

He waves his gun in the air.

"You want somethin' doll?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Choso Kamo

The air in the crowded space felt stifling, but it had nothing to do with the people around you and everything to do with him. Choso stood close—too close—his body angled just enough that only you could feel the heat radiating off him. His fingers barely skimmed the small of your back, an innocent touch to anyone watching, but the way his knuckles brushed against your skin sent a sharp thrill through you. He didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in, his lips hovering just beside your ear, his voice low and deliberate.

“You keep pressing into me like that,” he murmured, “Are you testing me… or do you want me to break?” His breath was warm, teasing, as his fingertips traced the faintest pattern against your side before retreating—just enough to make you crave the contact again. The weight of his gaze dragged over your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes, dark and unreadable, but the tension between you was undeniable. It was a game now—one neither of you seemed willing to lose.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Suguru Geto

You've been walking around in a bra, all day...

Suguru's fingertips brushed against your jaw, barely there, yet enough to set your skin ablaze. His smirk was lazy, almost amused, but the sharp glint in his eyes told a different story—one of restraint, of something simmering just beneath the surface. "You're making this difficult," he murmured, his voice smooth, dark, laced with amusement and something more dangerous. His breath fanned against your lips, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. "Tell me," he mused, tilting his head ever so slightly, "are you going to keep teasing me, or do you want me to ruin you?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toge Inumaki

One thing for Toge is that he can't talk normally without hurting himself because of his cursed technique. So he uses physical touch. He'll pinch your sides, snuggle you, tickle you, stuff like that.

Right now he's gently kissing your face on his dorm bed running his hands up and down you. You both never went past making out. But the tension between you two is so strong. He decides to use his cursed technique.

"Undress."

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Yuji Itadori

Yuji was playing with Megumi's demon dogs scratching their bellies. You couldn't help but notice how long his fingers are and how nice they curl. You gulp and look away but being the observant man he is, he looked back and noticed your flushed face. "Y/N what's the matter?" He said in a curious but overall cheerful tone.

He notices you zoned out and staring at his fingers before you blink back to reality. "Oh nothing, nothing." He grinned and wiggled is fingers.

"Oh?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Comment if you want a longer version of these!

[blackbird5154]

Papa lll's special kung fu

After watching a lot of Terzo footage, I've noticed his amazing talent for turning disadvantages into advantages. And here's what I mean.

▸ If you love Third Era acoustic performances as much as I do, you've probably noticed that very often things went wrong on them. Tangled wires, dropped sound, wrong mic height, forgotten song lyrics 😅 Every time something like that happened, Terzo amused the audience while the problem was fixed, and now we remember those moments as the most touching. He didn't hide the problem, he made fun of it.

▸ Philadelphia Incident, 2015. Pope Francis arrives in town at the same time as Ghost and makes it so they have to cancel the concert. At the next show, Terzo praises the audience for their support and says he is by far the second greatest pope in the world. He says “number two” in such a voice that you absolutely believe that being number two is the coolest and sexiest thing in the world.

▸ March 28th 2017. Papa falls off the stage into the pit and immediately uses this as an opportunity to approach the crowd and hold their hands. Papa, fall more often. Your ass looks really fine.

▸ He almost falls again, but pretends it was part of a dance move.

▸ The legendary hole in the shoe is the result of his ability to turn problems into advantages. Anyone else in his place would have thought, “Damn, my shoe's worn out, now I need a new one. I've got to change it without anyone noticing.” But Terzo thinks about turning it into an event and makes it iconic. Sometimes I think he could be a successful businessman with the most creative ideas. One of those people who can make a fortune from used cans.

▸ How to resolve situation if you passed out during a concert? That's right, compliment the ladies who are so beautiful that you fainted, and make their hearts melt.

Now let's dig a level deeper.

Radley and I have already written quite a bit about the theme of loneliness in Terzo's monologues. It all boils down to the fact that, according to Papa, ghosts can be pretty good company if you're lonely. Here are a couple of telling quotes:

We can't always get what we want. You know that, huh? But one thing that can keep you company in a lonely hour… are the ghosts inside. Let them be your friend rather than your enemy. It's that darkness that sometimes makes the person, eh?

Lawrence, Kansas, USA (October 5, 2015)

And

You have a lot of things in your life, huh? We all crave so many things. If we list… in order to feel as if… we all get all these things and then everything will feel better. Ain't that right? I am exactly the same. But I do know one thing… is that if you have the spirits and the demons inside you that causes a little… wreckage. That can be to your favor. Believe me. An empty shell is nothing, so...

Chicago, Illinois, USA (October 3, 2015)

Usually ghosts are associated with something scary, or they're a metaphor for memories of people you've lost. It sounds like Terzo was able to “win them over” to his side, make them his allies in a lonely hour, turn them from tormentors to trusted companions. Sounds like a profound reinterpretation of the experience of unhappiness. Someday I'll learn to do the same.

A phrase from the classic comes to mind, You have to make the good out of the bad because that is all you have got to make it out of. Maybe Terzo would argue with the second part, but would agree with the first.

▸ [Part 7]

▸ Encyclopedia of Terzo

▸ [Part 9]

[drac-kool-aid]

Y'know, something that gets me, is that in the book, Dracula's intentional predation of Lucy starts off with an accidental meeting. Sure, Lucy slept walked, and an argument could be made her path might have been supernaturally influenced, but I say she'd already been a known sleep-walker, and she went directly to a place she was familiar with.

Her stumbling onto Dracula's hiding spot in a very vulnerable state was just an accident, and from there, he intentionally set out to harm her, and through that, everyone around her he could get.

This is sort of related to Jonathan, too. Had Mr. Hawkins not come down with a bad case of gout, Jonathan wouldn't have been sent to Castle Dracula in his stead. Sure, Dracula probably would have had his fun with Hawkins before inevitably killing him, but I doubt he would have drawn it out so long or taken so much delight.

Dracula never sets out with a master-plan to attack Lucy or Jonathan. They just end up in his path and spark his interest. We know that if he isn't interested in you, he'll kill you. He'll, he breaks Mr. Swales neck doesn't even bite him. But the two victims he decides he's going to make suffer the longest he possibly can, he just stumbles upon and goes "oh this will be fun". Later, we see him start choosing victims as a way to retaliate, but for the two inciting incident victims upon which the rest of the story hangs...its just wrong place wrong time.

The reason this struck me is that I was misremembering. For some reason, which I now believe due to thinking about the *through gritted teeth* Coppola film, is that Lucy is sort of hand-picked by Dracula to be his victim. And yeah, the fucking film ain't subtle in its blaming of Lucy's victimization on the fact that she was Too Pretty and Too Flirtatious and Dracula psychically drew her into the garden in a flowing diaphanous dress, but it's really her fault....I hate this movie.

Like, i just read the films Wikipedia plot synopsis, Dracula "psychically seduces" Lucy before biting her. He chooses her out of everyone in England deliberately.

And just...no. That's not what happens. Lucy got so stressed from her wedding that her latent sleep walking started again. Mina gets so tired from the constant stress she falls asleep without meaning to. Lucy went to their favorite spot...Dracula just happened to be there and took advantage and both Lucy and Mina weren't floating along softly into a garden with a fan letting their hair blow, but cold, scared, and covered in mud and blood, and forced to sneak back to the house that way, facing not only the supernatural but the very ordinary horrors of being caught outside at night by a strange man.

Idk. The tragedy is that Dracula didn't set out to fuck with these people. It's just that they were the ones who crossed his path that he took an interest in, and he decided to draw it out as long as possible.

(Oh fuck, this is the crew of the Demeter too. It isn't like Draculas got some big plan. He just decides he's going to play with his food. Had he boarded any other ship it would have ended up the same way.)

I guess in conclusion, I find it odd that adaptions seem to need to find a reason for him doing what he does. Like, Coppola has to conjure up a whole reincarnation backstory at one point, but I don't understand why!! Let Dracula just be an opportunist, his casual cruelty knowing no reason. That makes him scarier.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hiii, Nini! Can I please request a Sigma x male reader fic with impact play? We've seen Sigma in fics getting absolutely decimated by the reader LMAO- I almost feel bad, so here's a twist, this is light impact play. Instead of spanks/floggers he can brace for, nope, feathers that make him jump out of his skin every time, giggling despite himself because wtf he's taken so much worse-. I think he'd absolutely lose it with the lighter/gentler stuff more so than the harder stuff purely because of how flustered he'd get XD. Ps I'm making it canon, you cannot look at him and tell me that stressed-as-hell man ain't ticklish.

Ahhhh so true!!! I imagine him as very sensitive and ticklish as well, like 🤤🤤 also since the gender wasn’t mentioned anywhere, you can interpret it however you want :]

Dom!reader x sub!sigma - reader is gn neutral

Warning: tickling/soft impact play, teasing, humiliation, slight dacryphilia (can’t write a fic without good’ol dacryphilia), using his hair as a brush???

Edit: started & finished this in the middle of the night, I’m so tired and I didn’t proof read it, also my brain is cooked idk what I did here

It’s been too quiet these days. Too boring, too mundane, too relaxing. There were many adjectives that would fit this little dilemma you were facing, called ‘dying of boredom’. You’ve been waiting around for your sweetheart to make a mistake, just so you’d have a reason to punish him. Yet how could it be that he’s so perfect in every way possible? You weren’t even exaggerating or meaning to sing his praises, heck you wanted him to be a little more human!

Otherwise you couldn’t think of a good reason to pull him out of his busy schedule, just to have him all to yourself, in such a selfish way. He wouldn’t agree, everyone knows how he puts his work above everything else. Such a horrible work ethic he has. Whatever, no one is perfect, even the manager of the sky casino will have to slip up somewhere, and you were way too eager to find it.

Sigma was just signing some documents as you watched him over his shoulder, taking sneaky peeks as if he hasn’t noticed you already. At this point he was probably wondering what you were doing. It didn’t bother you in the slightest, in fact, you knew due to you being so close, he’d get nervous and overthinking again. Something along the lines of: Did you want something from him? Why were you watching him all silently, so creepily?

And there it was— what you’ve been waiting for! “Sigma~ gosh, you clumsy thing! You wrote down the wrong date there, look.” You pointed it out a little too enthusiastically, eyes sparkling like morning sunlight, reflecting how excited you were. He glanced at you funnily, probably baffled why you were so happy about it. “Ah- yes, I see, uhh.. thanks, y/n.” Sigma furrowed his brows for a split second, then turned his attentions back to the papers. Though before he could continue writing, you snatched the pen out of his hand.

“Nope, you made a mistake sigma, and such a simple one as well. Tsk tsk tsk.” You faked a disappointment sigh, and facepalmed, putting your acting skills to use, “I’ll need to punish you, don’t you think?” So that’s what you’ve been waiting for, and probably the reason why you were so full of glee earlier. “A-are you serious..? For such a small thing?” Sigma looked taken aback, leaning his head back until he met your eyes. A slight blush was already convering his pale cheeks, such a naughty boy, he was excited as well.

“Why of course, it was a grave mistake after all. Stand up.” He was more ready to comply than you thought, not making any fuss as he stood up. “Good boy, now sit on the table.” You moved the chair away, pinning his body between your arms and gripping the edge of the furniture. Sigma glanced at you a few times, seemingly surprised with your demand. To be honest he expected you to bend him over your lap. This was fine as well, in fact, this position would prove itself to be more comfortable than what he initially predicted.

You were close, all up in his intimate space. He swore he could feel the heat radiating off your body. A slight blush covered his cheeks as he waited for your orders, already feeling the effects you had on him. It was almost terrifying how much control you had with just a few words. “Come on, you know how it goes. Strip.” After waiting for what felt like forever, you smirked as you whispered to him. “Ah- right. Sorry.” The boy replied half-minded, hands moving up to unbutton his vest.

This wouldn’t have been all that humiliating if it wasn’t for the fact that you were staring him up and down like some prey, watching his every move as he peeled off one layer after another. “Can’t you.. look in the other way?” He muttered in a meek voice, currently taking his pants off. “I’ve seen you nude plenty times darling,” you reached for his hands and helped him undress, “why are you still embarrassed?”

“You- stop teasing me..” The way his face flushed even more while he desperately tried to shake your hands off was so precious, you couldn’t stop grinning. “Ever thought it’s part of the punishment?” You asked, grabbing his thighs and spreading them apart. They were soft to the touch, and so squishy, his skin was flawless. “Ah-ahh… I’m- I’m really getting punished… over that little mistake?” He bawled his hands into fists, biting his lips to stop the trembling.

“I mean what I said.” He inhaled shakily, and breathed an equally unsure exhale. Eyes glossed over and half-lidded, body burning under your every touch. Poor boy was just preparing for the worst. You gave him a reassuring smile, then raised your hand right over his thighs. So it was going to be spanking, he thought and squeezed his eyes together. To his surprise, instead of the painful slap he expected, he was met with a teasing one. In response his body twitched involuntarily, and his eyes ripped open.

He didn’t flinch because of the pain, no there was no pain to speak of. There were only a soft, faintly red mark that gradually appeared on his inner thigh. Pretty much nothing worth mentioning, you left more marks when you grabbed his skin to spread his legs. “Erm… Y/n?” He couldn’t help but question your actions. That was a slip up, right? He’s taken so much worse, compared to all that you were basically caressing him.

Suddenly, another slap, though just as soft and gentle as the first one, making him jump out of his seat. “Wait- y/n, what are you doing?” It was such a light slap, can you even call it one? Wouldn’t tap be a more fitting description? “Punishing you. Why, do you want to be bullied instead?” You teased, followed by another slap, this time on the other thigh, and his toes curled. Why did this feel even more embarrassing than anything else? The sound was way louder and more dramatic than the actual impact.

“Ah- no but, seriously, what are you doing?” Out of nowhere you slapped his chest, once again it wasn’t painful in the slightest. He tensed together, still able to feel your touch in the places you’ve touched. “Shhh, be good and endure it for me, alright?” Instead of answering him, you stroked his fluffy hair, and smiled all self confident. The look on his face screamed confusion, but he trusted you, and so he simply swallowed the lump in his throat.

You grabbed a strain of his hair, one of the longer locks, sliding your hand through them, a little amazed at how untangled his hair was. As soon as you reached the ends, you held it fairly firm in your hand, and used it like a brush to graze over his skin. First over his cheeks just to annoy him, earning yourself a glare from him, then a feather-light brush over his nipples. He really didn’t know where you were going with this, but god did it rile him up.

It tickled, and it was so foreign, he couldn’t help but subconsciously clench his thighs together. Hands trembling from clenching his fists too hard, the pounding of his own heart echoing in his ears. You made sure to not touch him anywhere except with your hands, which made him all the more sensitive. Those touches were driving him mad, and that fact itself made him all the more flustered. You were barely doing anything, how could it be that he wanted to cry amidst all these sensations?

Soft, muffled whimpers slipped from his swollen lips, he arched his back forward whenever everything became too much. “Hnng- please, ah.. stop the t-teasing…! Hmm..!!” You carefully traced a line down his belly, resting your makeshift brush around his pelvis and moving it in a circling motion. As if all this wasn’t humiliating enough, he now knew why you had him sit on the table. All so you could observe his every move, every shameful expression and listen to every shaky breath he exhaled.

“Look at you getting all excited just from a few touches, you are way more needy than you’d like to admit, aren’t you?” “HnnGh..~ p-please.. ah-!!”He whined again, feeling you finally, finally giving his neglected dick some attention. Only using one finger to lazily rub his tip a few times, before using his hair to brush over the already sticky gland. His precum slowly dribbled from his slit, down his shaft before getting smeared around by you. “So messy.” Was all you had to say.

“Y/n, y-you’re so Mnn.. mean,” he squirmed around, shaking his head as tears rolled down his crimson cheeks, “I-i wanna cum…” you tilted your head to the side, sliding the bush of hair over his inner thighs, “that’s not how you ask for things, baby.” Then you used your other hand to rub his tears away, it ended up with him crying even more. “Such a crybaby, why don’t you try asking nicely?”

He gulped, trying to cease the sobbing for a moment, bending forwards as he let his head drop. The shame was eating at him, but he really couldn’t do this anymore~ which is why he looked up at you like a lost puppy, with glistening eyes and rosy lips, shaking ever so slightly as he begged, “please.. ha-Ahhh…I-i wanna cum♥︎ please m-make me c-cum..!!♡♡♥︎”

You smiled, staying quiet for a moment to raise the intensity and anticipation, then wrapped your arms around his shivering body. “You’ve been so good for me, and good boys deserve to be rewarded.”

[obsessedwrhys]

Hey so how do you think rise donnie would deal with a magical crush who is very chill with his tech and magic ramblings. He is in the room when April asks magival crush “is he bothering you? He can be a bit insufferable sometimes. He can’t just let things go and just accept magic as is”. And crush is like “oh. I don’t mind it. I mean, everyone thought rainbows were magical. They still are, but now you know how they work. I kind of like watching his big head try and figure this stuff out”?

A LOVE BEYOND LOGIC

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ just lots of fluff and flirting (I went overboard with the flirting), reader does get hurt but it's just minor, used of (Y/N) but only once, I hope this is a good read ☹, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

It was another normal Tuesday for everybody in the lair, like always, you found yourself sunk into the bean bag your best friend plus boyfriend, Donnie, personally installed in his lab just for you. Well how he manages to become your boyfriend is a different story.

It all happened so fast, you were both blabbered about magic and science and suddenly he's pouring his heart out for you. What's more surprising is that this ain't exactly your home realm. You're pretty lucky enough to have score yourself a bunch of friendly people willing to let you stay at their place, not to mention be fine with your whole magical fiesta.

Anyways, you were concentrating on the game in your phone until you hear Donnie let out a frustrated groan. Curious, you looked to see him struggling with what seemed to be his next hopeful project. It's just not looking too hopeful right now.

"You okay?" You asked and his gaze darts towards you. He waves his hand dismissively.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I must have gotten the formula wrong" He said and at the same time, he walked over to the other table to check on his notes. You put your phone away before getting up to approach him.

"Can I help?" You asked.

You then stood beside him, your eyes examining how his hands are placed at both sides of the notebook as he has his head focused at it in the middle. His brows were slightly furrowed from trying to figure out what went wrong. Even with the stress, you can't help but find the concentration on his face somehow making him appear more attractive.

"No... no... I wouldn't wanna trouble you with this burden..." He muttered almost like a whisper since his mind is already preoccupied with focusing.

"Watching you torture yourself with this is already a burden" You joked and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"You're right, I'll try my best to figure this out sooner" He shoots you a sweet smile before walking off to the table in the center that has his project on top.

"Maybe after this we can go exploring. You said you wanted to visit the museum right? If we're lucky enough, I can shut down the surveillance so we can go in undetected, it'll be like the place is ours" He said, putting on his safety goggles as he continues on his work. You couldn't help but feel all giddy inside just hearing him remember you telling him that a few days ago.

You clear your throat, calming yourself.

"That'd be awesome. I don't know if you know this but I can detect old magic in artifacts. Connecting with them makes me stronger" You grabbed an unfinished rubix cube from his shelf and began to play with it as you made yourself float. Even with your body levitating a few feet above him, he didn't mind but was more focused on the task at hand.

"Huh... is that why you're so eager to go? To make yourself more powerful?" He said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Not entirely, I did say I wanted to explore it with you" You said and just hearing you say that, he tried to bite back a smile, a sense of pride swelling up in his chest.

"Gaining power and spending time with me? You're awfully greedy. Are all magical beings like this from your realm?" He playfully teased and you couldn't help but let out a humoured scoff.

"Too bad it must just be me" You responded and it made him laugh to himself while shaking his head.

"What else should I be aware of about your powers?" He asks and you hummed as you thought it over.

"Well... my powers get crazy strong when I feel a strong emotion. Whether it be sad or anger. Somehow being overwhelmed can 'cause me to lose control" You said and it automatically caught his interest.

"Lose control?" He repeats while putting on gloves before using the angle grinder on the metal.

"Huh... I can understand why... the heightened emotions you feel can create a swirling vortex of energy that can overwhelm your conscious control, making it easily for you to lose any sense of control over yourself, it's almost inevitable" He asserted like he always does when he's invested with every new discovery about your magical abilities.

"Really? Are you saying that's a bad thing?" You raised an eyebrow as you finally landed beside him, at the same time Donnie stops using the angle grinder and puts it aside. He pulls over his goggles, letting it rest just above his head.

"Not exactly, there are other emotions that can also work... Magic is no different than science. There's always a different formula available to replace the other" He said, twisting some screws onto the machine and once he's done, he turns it on before stepping back to see it on and working.

"And maybe sometimes... different is better" He smiled, satisfied with his success. He then turn to look at you who seemed puzzled, in your hand holds the rubix cube you have yet to finish.

"I'm sort of getting it but what other emotions is there that doesn't involve me turning into a raging monster?"

"There is one... an emotion that makes you feel calm yet overwhelmed at the same time... but you'll have to fall"

"Fall?" You watch as he goes to the other side of the room to grab a handkerchief to wipe his face clean.

"Fall in love... can't be hard right?" He looks at you, his eyes warm like it'll be enough to melt you. The way he stares at you makes it seem as though you're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You blush as you let out an awkward chuckle.

"Love? Are you saying that because half of the movies we watch, the main character happens to win in the last minute against the bad guy because of the power of love?" You joked, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating faster than it would.

"This is purely science. I don't recall any movies using that trope" He says and you couldn't help but tilt your head, your brows raised in disbelief.

"Beauty and the Beast"

"Hey he was cursed by a witch"

"Tangled"

"That was more about cutting her hair"

"Uh Hero? Frozen?!??! Every freaking Christmas movie ever created?!?!!" He stares at you, silent for a second and you can see from his face that he's thinking it over.

".... you had me at Frozen. Ah alright, you're missing the whole point of all of this" He approaches you and you can't help but try to at least avoid the effect he's having on you.

"What I'm trying to prove here is that maybe you can try focusing on that emotion. Maybe it can even save you out of a messy situation one day. Who knows?" He crosses his arms, a confident smirk on his face. You roll your eyes with a smile of your own.

"You and your science talk. I do appreciate it but sometimes it's a wonder you haven't talked my ear off" You joked and it makes him laugh once again.

"Oh please, my voice is not irritating, at least not compared to yours"

"Excuse me??"

Right as you finished talking, April enters. She stops in her tracks as she awkwardly shifts her focus from Donnie's face to yours. Sensing the clear look of annoyance on your face, she decides to step in between in whatever conversation you two are having.

"Hey now, I've been gone for only a few hours and you guys are already trying to tear each other down" She laughs half heartedly. Clearly sensing the shift of emotion in the atmosphere, Donnie shrugs as he chooses to walk back to his station.

"Oh well, and uh (Y/N), you should go with April. It's almost evening and you usually eats at this hour. I'll find you later" He says with his back turned to you. Not really caring much about it, you also shrug before turning the other way.

"I was gonna go eat anyways" You said but deep inside you could feel that flutter of emotion again. Without much complain, you decided to go to the kitchen to April, the rubix cube still in your hand.

You're seated at the chair and toying around with the cube that you failed to acknowledge the concern look on April's face. She hands you your plate of food before taking her seat beside you. It was when you both started eating that you finally notice. But before you can ask, she beats you to it.

"Are you okay? I saw your face back there and it seemed like you guys were arguing. Is Donnie bothering you again? I know how far he can go trying to experiment on you" She said and her words nearly caught you off guard. You're aware of her concern about your safety but you weren't sure she would be THIS concern. Especially directing it towards Donnie.

"Wait no we weren't arguing just now. He just said some stupid comeback at my joke. Besides, what makes you think he'd do that?" You asked and she turns to look at you as if your question was a dumb one.

"Um, hello? He's Donatello. The 'Magic is not a real thing' Donatello... Did you forget how he was trying to have you join his crazy experiments when you first got here??" She said and you couldn't help but laugh a bit from how unreal the situation you're in.

"Okay first of all, he doesn't hate magic. He's just amazed about it you know? It's like giving a baby their first taste of sweet candy"

"You're comparing him to a baby now?"

"It was just a metaphor"

"Fineeee!! But how is he okay with letting you hang around in his lab? Doesn't magic and science not work together?"

"Oof if that was the case then people would think that thunder and lightning was a sign of God's fury from above"

"Okaaay... you have a point but... why do you like hanging around in his lab? It doesn't seem to be your cup of tea" You look at her and you see a teasing grin on her face.

Oh boy.

"His lair is... quiet... it's comforting"

"Ah yes... the sound of him drilling for hours is very relaxing. Not to mention the loud noises of his hammer! Wh-What a paradise!!" She says while ending up laughing at her own sarcasm. You let out a defeafed sigh.

"Okay maybe I happen to enjoy watching him work. It's exciting!! Do you see the way he puts things together?" You said with pride that you failed to notice the smile on your face.

"Uh huh" She looks at you and its clear that she doesn't buy it one bit.

Minutes later after you both are done eating and chatting about your everyday lives, you found your way back into the lab.

As expected, you found Donnie in his chair and seemingly working on his next project. Seeing how busy he looks, you decided to just go back to your place on the bean bag... but the sound of your footsteps caught his attention. His eyes slightly perked up as he swung around in his chair to look at you.

"You're back so quick...?" He said, his tone coming off surprised.

"Yeah... why? Do you need some alone time?" You took a step back and he quickly got to his feet like he's trying to stop you.

"That's not what I meant... uh I need to ask you an offer" He then leaned his back against the table and from the way his eyes is struggling to maintain eye contact with you, you could tell it wasn't anything good.

"Do you mind if you could used your powers to give my machine a boost? I need to make sure if it's resistant from getting fried easily" He looks at you, his gaze making him appear hopeful that you'll be fine with that... and honestly why wouldn't you be?

"Sure, just tell me how much is too much" You walk over to the machine displayed on the center and he mirrors your action. You stand side by side as you gently place your hand on top of the core.

"How about we start with something small and we'll work our way up from there?" He suggests which you nodded in agreement.

Just like that, you activated your powers and at the same time made sure you weren't using too much of it. In relief the machine didn't blow up but was running just fine. Almost at the same time, You and Donnie exchanged thankful smiles when turning to look at one another. With the first stage cleared, you decided to up the heat a bit.

"ZZZzzzz" The machine buzzes a bit from the increased intensity of your powers but surprisingly it's still intact and working right.

"Alright... moment of truth..." You grit your teeth anxiously... then activated the full force of your powers.

⌁KRRRRK⌁

Almost like a flash, you could feel surges of electricity coursing through your vines so due to your instincts you quickly pulled your hand away cause of the pain. And for the machine it was now overloading but somehow still functioning. Before you could even do anything, Donnie is already by your side with a med kit in hand.

"Are you okay? I know you're an enhanced being but still that must have hurt" He places the kit on the table and opened it to take out anything you needed.

"Just a small wound" You said, showing him the tiny burn on your pinky. Instantly he's already treating it with the petroleum jelly.

You don't say anything but choose to watch him tend to your minor injury. From his body language you could tell that he was very focused on not hurting you in the slightest. Soon after he wraps a clean bandage loosely around your pinky, he looks at you with a wave of warmth on his face. How he looks at you so softly is making your heart beat like it did not long ago.

"So... are you still up for our visit to the musuem?" He asks and you chuckle in disbelief.

"Seriously? You're not gonna even explain why you invented this thing in the first place? Not after my effort of helping you out?"

"Oh that? I wanted to surprise you but since you asked, this is gonna be our one way ticket to shutting the surveillance off. Just stick this bad boy into the breaker and the cameras are out" He picks it up and effortlessly puts it into the back of the truck, you follow him not far behind.

"You built all that just to spend one night with me at the musuem?" You tilt your head and he freezes in place, his back facing you as he stands at the back of the van.

"Uh... yeah... why not?" He rubs his neck awkwardly. From that you could tell that you've somehow made him flustered. You laugh and the sound of you laughing made him turn around out of curiosity.

"What are you laughing about?" He said despite the movements of his lips beginning to form a grin.

"Nothing nothing..." You look at him, a smile still present on your face but soon you show him your pinky, the same one he helped bandage it up for you.

"Kiss it to make it better?" You said with your hardest attempt of making puppy dog eyes. He shakes his slightly out of amusement.

"Only because you asked" He takes a few steps forward and carefully holds your arm by the wrist before guiding it towards his lips. He kisses it delicately and while he does so, his eyes are remained locked on yours. The intensity of his gaze made you blush that you couldn't help but look away.

"There... is my baby done whining now?" He said with his hands now intertwined with yours. You roll your eyes as you let him pull you into his embrace.

"Yeah yeah... let's go to the musuem now smarty pants" He chuckles at your response with his arms wrapped securely around you, his fingers tracing gently down your spine.

"Should we watch a movie after we get back?"

"Frozen?"

"Perfect"

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

-

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit. 

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ��it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it. 

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her. 

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

-

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.  

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too. 

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

-

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching. 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night. 

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous. 

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day. 

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt. 

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real. 

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force. 

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. 

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up. 

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground. 

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

-

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

-

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope. 

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm. 

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.” 

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought. 

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply. 

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change. 

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

[mqriuss]

To be named is to be special

from 'us, always' collection

recommended to read "a gift" first / divider by cafekitsune

"…You got a name?" He asked, his voice rough.

Your eyes lit up a little at that. "LIV," you said and Rindou pursed his lips.

"That's your brand's name."

Rindou doesn't name you the first day he got you. Did you even... need a different name? You already referred to yourself as LIV anyway, and he was fine with that. You seemed fine with that.

For a few weeks, that's all he'd call you—LIV. And he'd insisted you addressed him as just 'Rindou' whenever you tried calling him a pet name.

"Do you not like being called 'baby'? How 'bout 'sweetheart'?"

"Just call me Rindou."

"Okay."

Then you'd make that same mistake the next day. He thinks it's probably because you were programmed to think anyone who owned a Companion Aptroid would be desperate enough to want an Aptroid to call them "honey bear". But since you were gifted to Rindou, he has to sort of help you... unlearn some of what you were meant to do. Like calling him pet names.

One day, he realized something when he overheard a store manager yelling at his Aptroid worker.

"But sir, I don't think I can spare any more time for this-" the Aptroid tried to decline, but it only made his manager even more furious.

"Are you telling me no? It's an order!"

It was as if a switch had been flipped—the Aptroid immediately went back to work, looking almost embarrassed when he saw that Rindou was watching the whole thing unfold.

As Rindou browsed around the place, the manager appeared and started complaining to no one in particular. "Ah, these damn Aptroids... I thought they were just meant to work and obey. Is it 'cause he's an Apt-05?"

Rindou raised an eyebrow at him, "Apt-05 is an older version, right?" He queried.

"They ain't that old, the latest Aptroid model is an Apt-07. I heard they're more obedient—might have to replace him soon. I dunno what's up with him, but he's been having a mind of his own lately," he absentmindedly spoke, lighting himself a cigarette. Rindou listened with curiosity, but didn't think much of his words yet. "These days, he'll only listen if I tell him it's an order. I never had to do that till about a year ago."

Rindou perked up at that.

"You're home, sweetheart! I made you dinner, how was work?" You greeted him warmly that night, placing a dish on the small dining table. He doesn't answer you for a while, only taking his coat off in silence before he sat down whilst eyeing you.

"What if I told you it was an order?"

"Hm?"

"Call me Rindou. That's an order."

It worked. You really did call him Rindou ever since that day. So for another few days, it was just Rindou... and LIV. And you never really complained.

Emphasis on "another few days".

"Will you name me?" You asked him one day when the both of you were sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

He had to sit with your question for a while. What are you, a pet? Can't you pick a name yourself? Did he need to name you?

"What's wrong with LIV?" Rindou asked you back.

"It's not mine," you hesitated. Rindou absentmindedly turned back to the TV after you answered him, unknowing of what to say next for a while. You noticed, so you sat up straight and added, "I don't like it."

He crossed his arms behind his head. "Alright," he said, "if you don't like LIV, then pick a new name."

You nodded, this should be easy, you both thought. But the seconds stretch and you had gone really quiet. Rindou watched as your brows furrowed slightly.

Finally, you shook your head, "I can't do it."

Rindou blinked. "What do you mean you can't?" He questioned, receiving a shrug on your end. "Can't as in you don't want to, or can't as in it's literally impossible?"

"I don't know—I tried, really."

"You can memorize a whole article about the World War II after reading it once, but you can't name yourself?"

"Yeah, no kidding."

He tilted his head. "Uh, try thinking of a name you like right now," he suggested.

"Rindou."

At your immediate response, Rindou choked. "I- huh?" Were you seriously flattering him now? He thought as his face reddened slightly. "That's my name, dumbass."

"You asked me for a name I liked."

Rindou groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "For yourself," he clarified and is met with an "oh". He sat up, turning to face you slightly. "Okay, forget that. Just think of any name, what's the first that comes to mind?"

"Sophie," you replied.

"Great. Do you want that name?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

He stared at you. You stared back. Your blank expression turned into one of worry when Rindou let out a long sigh. "If i I told you this was an order, could you do it?"

"I'm sorry," you spoke softly. "I know what you're trying to make me do, and I really did try. I just don't know why I can't."

His eyes softened visibly—although only a little bit—when he heard the subtle frustration in your tone. "Don't apologize," he said, awkwardly trying to sound comforting. The movie in front of you was long forgotten as Rindou's mind began to wander. Sure, he thought you're being stubborn, but he was too. Why couldn't he just name you? Satisfy the both of you by giving you a name other than LIV, and ending this back and forth for good? Plus, it might not be your fault that you're being stubborn—he was about to find out as he eyed the holo-screen projector on the table.

He waved a hand near it to trigger its sensor, projecting the holo-screen in front of him. With a few taps of his fingers, he typed into the web, "can Aptroids name themselves?"

The very first result caught his eye immediately: "To be named is to be special." Clicking on it gave him all the answers he needed.

An Aptroid cannot name themselves.

An Aptroid must be named by the person in charge of them.

An Aptroid is special when they are personally named.

His jaw tensed, eyebrows furrowed. 'The person in charge of them.'

Technically, he's just your boyfriend, right? Would that be synonymous with being your 'owner' in this case? The idea left a bad taste in his mouth.

Though then again... the day you first called him by his name, he had told you it was an order, and it worked.

Rindou turned to you again, placing a hand on your knee. "Do you belong to me?" He asked, hesitant.

And you nodded.

His head hung low in thought for a moment. "Alright, you want a name from me, right? Can I give you three options and let you pick?"

You perked up at that and it was as if your eyes twinkled. "I'd like that," you said, nodding eagerly this time.

So you picked your name that day. Even though he had to give you options, he's at ease knowing it was your decision in the end. You deserved to pick.

[scoobydoodean]

If you had to pick five moments that you think best summarize Dean as a character… What would they be? Like, either each individually makes you go “yup THAT’S the character” or as a whole they male up the most of his facets?

Oooh that’s difficult. Hmm. HMMM.

1.02 "I figure our family's so screwed to hell... maybe we can help some others"

"Saving people, hunting things, the family business" etc etc yeah. But ALSO we often ignore that this whole conversation is centered around not letting desperation for revenge consume you, and Dean's care for others including strangers—wanting to keep them from experiencing the traumas that he has.

DEAN Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. SAM How do you do it? How does Dad do it? DEAN looks over at HALEY and BEN. DEAN Well for one, them. I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.

4.22 "Stepford Bitch in Paradise"

This one is a good representation of Dean's refusal to back down, caring about the whole world, and arguing fiercely to protect it, as well as his ability to stir up the care and love in others.

DEAN Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam. DEAN You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it.

12.22 "I hate you and I love you"

Just a very good summary of Dean's childhood experiences and how they have effected him, and how he (yet again) stirs up the care and love in others (and pulls people from mind control over and over via the power of love <3)

I hate you. You lied to me. I was a kid. You promised you'd keep me safe. And then you make a deal with Azazel. Yeah, it saved Dad's life, but I'll tell you something else that happened. Because on November 2, 1983, old Yellow Eyes came waltzing in to Sammy's room, because of your deal. You left us. Alone. 'Cause Dad was just a shell. His perfect wife? Gone. Our perfect Mom, the perfect family... was gone. And I... I had to be... more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe. And that wasn't fair. And I couldn't do it. And you wanna know what that was like? They killed the girl that he loved. He got possessed by Lucifer. They tortured him in Hell. And he lost his soul. His soul. All because of you. All of it was because of you. I hate you. I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't – I can't help it. You're my Mom. And I understand...'cause I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once. I forgive you. I forgive you. For all of it. Everything. On the other side of this, we can start over, okay? You, me, Sam. We can get it right this time. But I need you to fight. Right now, I need you to fight. I need you – I need you to look at me, Mom. I need you to really look at me and see me. Mom, I need you to see me. Please.

5.22 "Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone"

Bobby and Cas try to convince Dean that they've lost and there's no point in trying to reach Sam.

BOBBY: You just don't give up. DEAN: It's Sam! CASTIEL: If you couldn't reach him here, you're certainly not gonna be able to on the battlefield. DEAN: Well, if we've already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right? CASTIEL: I just want you to understand – the only thing that you're gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother. DEAN: Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone.

Dean pulls up at Stull right in front of two archangels who could blow him to smithereens, blasting music from his car and making an obnoxious scene. THEN Cas and Bobby show up right behind him (just as Michael says "you are not a part of the story!") Dean's refusal to give up defies causality, and his attitude is infectious.

While Dean is being beaten to death, he's saying,

DEAN: Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you. I'm not gonna leave you.

Dean's refusal to abandon his brother fills Lucifer with jealous rage making his control slip, while simultaneously bringing dozens of memories of traveling with Dean to Sam's mind helping him surface and take control.

3.10 "I didn't deserve what he put on me"

I have trouble picking a 5th because there's so many different directions I could go (Dean and Cas in the Crypt, Dean reusing to abandon Cas in Purgatory, Dean in the cemetery in 2.20 crying over John's grave, Dean's "I'm not mad I'm worried" from "Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets" or the similar scene in "The Future", Dean convincing Chuck and Amara to make up, Dean refusing to give into Chuck's writing and kill Jack, Dean telling Chuck "We will never give you the ending you want", etc).

I think I have to go with 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream of Me" because it summarizes a lot of Dean's intrusive thoughts and his overactive sense of responsibility and guilt, identifies the origin of those feelings, connects all of it to his depression and suicidality, and then circles back to the fact that he knows deep down that he doesn't deserve to feel this way, that he's not a tool for others to use, that he is his own person, and that he deserves to live.

DREAM DEAN I mean, you're going to hell and you won't lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem. Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it? DEAN Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up. DREAM DEAN I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog. DEAN That -That's not true. DREAM DEAN No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell. DEAN Just shut up. DREAM DEAN I mean, think about it ... all he ever did is train you, boss you around. But Sam .... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved. DEAN I mean it. I'm getting angry. DREAM DEAN Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you? DEAN Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam! That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He- He's the one who let Mom die. – who wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me. And I don't deserve to go to Hell!

[tvhsleb3ww]

HELPLESS AND HOPELESS! -MIYA ATSUMU

summary, atsumu is being charged for something that he did purely out of self-defense and his lawyer is someone from his terrible past.

MSBY BELOVED SETTER MIYA ATSUMU CHARGED FOR PHYSICAL ASSAULT!

he lets out a harsh groan and clicked his tongue as he read the headline for the article on the daily news website. on one hand, he's quite satisfied at the fact that they call him the beloved setter. on the other hand, what the hell!?

the news was absolute bonkers!

okay, so he was charged for physical assault and is possibly being sued for it but it's not the truth! He was innocent!

"you really messed up this time, miya" sakusa says while shutting the door of his locker in the locker room. atsumu felt his ears burning off when he said that, with furrowed eyebrows and a harsh glare, he turns to him. "don'tcha think i thought that, omi-kun?" he bites and sakusa rolls his eyes.

he quickly took off his shirt that he was currently wearing to wear his practice jersey. he lets out a harsh sigh before groaning and putting his face in his hands. "i'm in total shit right now" he sighed.

before sakusa could ruin the situation by giving him advice or saying things that he should've done, their coach walks in the locker room, making them both stand up straight with full respect.

"miya" he shudders at the way their coach called his name. without hesitating, he answers "yes, coach?" and what the coach was about to tell him was something that would ruin him.

"whaddya mean i can't play for the time bein'!?"

which led him to being on a long, long break until his case is settled and he's possibly not behind bars.

"the world is harsh, tsum. cheer up, you ain't gon end up behind bars" the voice of his brother chimes in as he's set back in reality. this has been his life for the past couple days after the news broke out.

sitting and whining at the countertop table of his brother's restaurant, dressed in hoodies and sweatpants, having to wear a cap and sunglasses everytime he goes out. he often thinks just how bad things are going for him as of now.

of course, his agency had already or currently searching for a lawyer to plead his case because he's innocent, godammit! how was he supposed to know that the person he beat up for harrassing a woman at the bar was the son of a hotshot sports company director?

his lips curl into a prominent frown at his brother's words. "or maybe ya will. only time wil' tell, nah?" his brother continues, implying that he will end up in jail and making him twitch.

"yer a piece of crap. ya ain't helpin' in the slightest!" he lets out a harsh scoff pass his lips and before he could retaliate further and call him every curse word in the urban dictionary, his brother places a plate of minced tuna rice ball in front of him. which did distract him and made his mouth water.

osamu lets out a chuckle as he gobbles it up like a starved man. osamu is just playing with him, he wouldn't want his idiot brother to end up in jail for something he did purely out of self-defense. the world is too cruel for letting something like that slide.

besides, he'd want his brother to be there for his wedding (which won't happen anytime soon)

"ya said ya didn' do anythin' wrong, right? then, calm yer ass down and just wait for yer agency ta' find a lawyer. yer ain't gonna end up in jail" he says, as a matter of factly. atsumu swallows the food in his mouth and ponders over his brother's statement.

in a way, it did comfort him even if it came from his idiot twin brother. "people think i'm a jackass now" he sighs out, taking a slow bite that represented his mundane thoughts.

"that's normal. yer already a jackass before ya got accused" osamu's words made him send a harsh glare.

truth be told, he really hopes the world will know the real story and his career will be fine.

it was a monday morning when he got a call from his coach that they found a lawyer. a real professional lawyer that is known for winning many cases. a real hotshot that's popular in the law industry, or whatever they call the department. the pure happiness he got from that was immaculate.

he immediately kicked off his blanket and ran to his shower to get ready to meet this lawyer that his agency found.

he thanked heaven that his case could possibly be resolved and everything would turn out normal!

he'd get his fame again, being able to play again, going on interviews, not having to wear the stupid disguise again!

oh how he can't wait!

until he saw who the lawyer was.

she was all too familliar. the same woman that made him wanting to pull his hair out, the same woman that drove him crazy, the same woman that made him scared of commitment.

who else but you.

he didn't know what his agency was thinking when they hired her. yeah, she was a real hotshot, has her own law firm and is extremely good in what she does but don't they know the history that they both once had? the amazing history that ended on terrible terms.

who else but his ex.

a small smirk curls up on her face, her arms crossed as she looks at him.

usually, atsumu would hate when people look down on him in that way. especially when you do it, but he can't comprehend why the hell he finds it attractive and somewhat fine.

and suddenly, all the memories came crashing down of when they dated back in high school. she's grown so much and she accomplished her dreams, he's somewhat proud? she's still as gorgeous as always, in a way that makes you wanna sigh dreamily at the sight of her and he almost actually did let out a dreamy sigh before he registered who it was.

the way her blouse hugs her body and her skirt wraps her curves, oh god— what it does to a man as weak as him.

wait what the hell.

he can't be thinking this of her! her! (l/n) (y/n). the (y/n). the (y/n) that tore his heart and stomped on it.

"what a surprise to see you again in this way" she says in a lighthearted voice. most people would think she's being nice but he knows that she uses that voice whenever she wants to mock him.

holy shit, the one who will determine his future is his ex that ended on bad terms.

stay tuned!

[low-budget-korra]

Arcane Hot Takes

1. The hate on Jayce is mostly for no reason. He was a good guy, genuinely nice and with no toxic masculinity. He never created Hextec to be a weapon or to destroy the world. And only got really mad when Jinx stole his creation and honestly? He had the right to be mad at that. He ain't perfect, he made mistakes but c'mon guys.

2. If you hate on s2 Caitlyn but idolize Silco, you're a hypocrite. The difference is that Caitlyn did all blinded by grief while Silco did blinded by the thirst for power

And speaking of Silco…No, he is not this revolutionary man some of the fandom make him out to be. He was a Mafia boss who filled the streets with drugs, divided and weakened his own community and even used child work in his factories. Yeah, he was not some Che Guevara freedom fighter. All he had was beautiful speeches abt it.

And also not this perfect father figure for Jinx, as he kept filling her paranoias and manipulating her

3. The writers made a miracle managing to end the show in a nice way, but the truth is that Arcane needed at least one more season to be perfect. 

In s2 they rely too much on characters' micro expressions and subtext. Which is not a bad thing at all, but in a first view a lot of things get missed

I already saw s2 three times, so if you think things were poorly explained, try to watch a second time. Better, binge s1 and s2 and I guarantee that a lot of stuff you think was outta nowhere, will make sense.

4. Caitlyn had the best character arc in season 2. Experiencing the phases of grief, getting radicalized and manipulated, opening her eyes and realizing what she was doing, a subtle yet important redemption.

And I Say "subtle" bc even if for me it was obvious, I know for a lot of people, it wasn't.

Also, the haters don't want her to recognize what she did wrong bc she already did, just not with those on the nose dialogues. The haters wanted her to be punished, which she also was. Girl was stabbed in the abdomen, betrayed by her right hand, was almost executed in front of her men, got beat up with a knife still in her abdomen and lost an eye. Yeah, I think she was punished enough and if you wanted more, just admit that you are a bit sadistic and move on

5. Arcane is fiction. Sure, it takes insp in real life problems but is still fiction. Its cool to be able to recognize the themes but project our world problems, anger and frustration towards the characters is stupid and makes you miss a lot of good stuff in the show. If you act radical abt the show, you don't have the right to judge someone that goes radical after losing her mom to a terrorist attack.

It doesn't matter if her mother was rich or something. In fact, Cassandra was one of the few council members, maybe the only one, who actually did something good for the Zaunites as she was the one that created those air filters for people in Zaun, the workers, be able to breathe without getting cancer or smt.

Yes, I know it's the bare minimum but she was the only one doing something. Heimerdinger in his 200y never did something like that and only tried to help Zaun when he was expelled from the council.

6. Vi didn know Jinx was wanting to off herself. Jinx already tricked her a couple times before and “breaking the circle” , from Vi’s pov could mean a lot of things. From offing herself to explode things again. She doesn't watch Arcane guys, she doesn't know Jinx as well as we do.

7. Having Zaunites helping Piltover in the battle wasn't lazy writing or disrespectful. It was literally about the fate of their world, y'all thing Ambessa and Viktor would stop with just Piltover? Who y'all think would be the next target? 

They also used the enforcers uniform because it is a tactical one, useful in a situation like a battle. I can hate on the police all I want but in a situation like that, I would rather go to battle with that stupid uniform and bullet proof vest than go on a simple tank top, jeans and converse.

And this shows how better the Zaunites are compared to Piltover and it's enforcers. They were willing to shallow their hate, their pride and help their oppressors for the greater good. That's a good heart, maturity and emotional intelligence.