#I will go to ungodly lengths to do so and by that I mean I will not hesitate to use that knife

[azrail-has-a-vendetta]

Does anyone else sometimes just unconsciously start planning what you would do if you were suddenly kicked out of your current home, had only the clothes on your back and no where to go? Just me?

[2tarbell]

happy birthday!! could i get vanilla birthday cake with crybaby!reader and “she’s so pretty, she still looks like an angel while i’m doing the most depraved and ungodly things to her”

- 🕷️ (if it’s available)

MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

participate in my bday celebration!!!

“good girl, right there, yeah?”

the drooling sounds of crybaby’s cunt swallowing the length of her boyfriend filled her frilly room. the baby blue decor seemed to judge her — being ruined in a space that was so precious. she could feel the beady eyes of her stuffed animals watching them. it should’ve felt wrong, but nothing wrong could make her feel so good.

the sex was always great with rafe. she thought he was heaven sent, so good with that mouth and seemingly all knowing when it came to her body. he knew all the spots to drag out animalistic whines and pearly tears from her.

it was all nasty words and sobs that filled the space. rafe’s large hands guided her movements roughly, pushing her to ride him in a way he liked. the realization that she was being used for his pleasure made crybaby clench around him. he rewarded her with a buck of his hips.

she mewled at the feeling, the sensation of him nudging her cervix making the tears fall harder and faster. fingers scratched at his toned chest, searching for any kind of stability.

“daddy, i— i can’t—“

a sting to her tear-stained cheek caused a choked sob to fall from her kiss bitten lips. the slap wasn’t even that hard — rafe tutted and gripped her chin, pulling her face down to his. body pliable and melting into him, her head all muddy from the contact of his palm to her cheek.

“yeah? you done, baby? tell me to stop.” he whispered, almost a threat. like he was daring her to back out.

but he knew her too well; silence broken by her little sniffles was all the response he got. those wet eyes stared at him pleadingly and pitifully. she wouldn’t say it — even if she had a gun to her head. too cock drunk to even function.

a wicked smirk etched its way onto rafe’s handsome features, resuming dragging her back and forth on his cock with her jaw still tightly in his grasp. her lips parted in a silent whine, he kissed her open mouth hotly.

“s’what i thought. you need this shit, huh? don’t fuckin’ tell me you can’t—”

she was a mess above him. hips canting when his tip kissed that perfect little spot, beginning to black out as stars dotted her vision. or maybe that was just the tears and mascara coating her lashes.

the sight had rafe pulsing inside of her, eyes flickering over her whole face and trying to commit her expression of pure ecstasy to memory. so beautiful.

his breath was ragged, a gravel texture to his voice that gave crybaby goosebumps, “love you… like an angel while ‘m doing dirty shit t’you. fuckin’… depraved and ungodly shit.”

she was hiccuping and writhing, almost to the precipice of that little death. from the way his navel continuously bumped her puffy clit. the pressure just right, his gaze so intense, his hands so rough—

crybaby came with a sob, babbling dumbly through ‘thank you’s and ‘i love you’s. her body was shivering and trying to squirm away from the blond boy. rafe caught her, working her through the sensations patiently. he pushed her onto her back and settled back into her warmth, pussy eagerly accepting his hard length with a squelch.

“get your lamb, there you go, atta girl—“

a soft white stuffed lamb was thrusted into her arms, limbs like jelly but clinging to the familiar source of comfort. her tears soaked into the plush of the animal and she bit the ear to muffle the choked cries that involuntarily left her mouth.

her pathetic little head lolled to the side into his forearm, nose nuzzling the warm skin. listening to the muffled sounds of his grunts and praises. she could feel him in her stomach — hazy eyes floating down to where they’re connected. a creamy ring collecting around his base and creating even worse sounds.

but crybaby couldn’t find it in herself to care anymore. their gazes connected and she felt the pleasure build once more. one objective on her mind:

it can’t get more ungodly than letting him fill her to the brim.

[p0orbaby]

For a Good Time, Call… (4)

summary: as you grapple with your burgeoning feelings for Leah, a door opens to new possibilities and the potential for something more

warnings: SMUT 18+ strap on use (leah receiving), some dirty talk

a/n: last main part my guys. might treat you all to an epilogue

word count: 2.5k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | epilogue

-

It was early.

The sun had yet to fully rise over the rooftops, and the morning dew still hung heavily to leaves and blades of grass.

Dawn. A time of day you’ve seen more and more of as of late. You have a five foot seven blonde centre back to reluctantly thank for that.

As you blink blearily at the dim light filtering through the curtains, you couldn’t help but marvel at the ungodly hour Leah’s penchant for early mornings has dragged you into. The day was breaking, and there you were, already contemplating the meaning of life and the distinct absence of a warm body beside you.

With a resigned sigh, you acknowledge that Leah’s status as an early riser was, indeed, a force to be reckoned with. Who knew the early bird could be so… early? Catching worms doesn’t even sound that appealing anyway.

But hey, every sunrise brought with it the promise of new beginnings, right? Right! And if those beginnings involve a quest to locate your elusive bed companion, then so be it. Off you go, brave warrior, into the wild (downstairs), yonder!

As you trudge into the kitchen, you’re greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a freshly showered Williamson. “Well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living,” she teases, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

You don’t even have the energy to respond with words, so you grant her a grunt as you shuffle towards the cupboard where the mugs are kept.

Leah chuckles softly, her playful demeanor a stark contrast to your early morning grogginess. “Rough night, huh?” she quips, sidling up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist.

“Hmm, and I wonder whose fault that is” you respond through a yawn, reaching lazily out to grab your favorite mug from the it’s usual hiding spot. But it’s not there. Confusion flickers across your face as you glance around the kitchen, then over your shoulder at Leah.

“It’s in the dishwasher” she informs between the soft kisses she's placing along the length of your neck.

You groan petulantly at her words. Of course it is. Lucifer is alive and well, it seems.

Leah releases you from her embrace, but her smirk remains as she grabs her own mug and takes a sip of coffee. “So, any plans for today?” she asks, raising an eyebrow in questioning.

You take a moment to ponder, mentally running through the checklist of tasks that await you. “Well, my dear Watson, I probably need to head back home at some point,” you reply, stirring your incorrectly decanted coffee absentmindedly. “I believe I have a pressing appointment with the laundry basket and a certain fern in dire need of hydration”

“Want me to drop you?” She offers. “We can get lunch on the way back”

You grin, feeling her warmth and energy seeping into you, banishing the last remnants of sleepiness. “Hmm, tempting offer,” you muse, turning to face her and gently tracing your fingers along her jawline. “But we’ve got training tomorrow and I could do with some shut eye. Sans distractions”

Leah pouts playfully, her bottom lip jutting out in disappointment. “Oh, come on,” she whines, wrapping her arms around your waist again and pulling you closer. “Who needs sleep when you can have fun with me?”

“As much as I’d love to indulge in your company, baby,” you say, brushing a stray strand of damp hair from her face, “I really do need to catch up on some sleep. Plus, I’m already on thin ice with Jonas”

One late fee away from a game suspension thin. Hence the need to stay at your own house, away from the wandering hands and mouth of one Leah Catherine Williamson

The culprit sighs dramatically, but concedes nonetheless. “Fine,” she offers before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. “But promise you’ll make it up to me?”

You smile, unable to resist her. “Of course,” you reply, returning her kiss with equal fervor. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise”

-

Love is a funny little thing.

It hides purposely in the shadows when you go looking, and punches you square in the face when you least expect it.

Or confesses its feelings for you in the street and fucks you silly not an hour later.

It’s all semantics really.

“When did you know you loved grandma?”

“Hmm, let’s see. When she railed me with a strap and gave me a three day limp?”

Yeah, no. Not everything needs to be passed down through the generations. That’s what jewellery and hereditary illnesses are for.

“What's that face all about?” You’re dragged abruptly from your thoughts by a voice beside you. “You look like you’re in pain”

“I’m just thinking”

“Oh god, don’t strain yourself”

You roll your eyes, abandoning your act of loosening your boots. “What do you want, Beth?”

She leans back against the wall of her cubby, smirking as she tries and fails to play off like she isn’t about to start bothering you.

“Answers”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t bribe Win. She just likes me more because my personality is far superior”

“You’re a liar” she doubles down.

“Jesus Christ, I have better things to do than lie about a dog, Bethany. Get a life”

“Like what? Like the fact you’re hiding that you’re seeing someone?”

Your blood runs cold.

“Why on earth would you think that?”

“I don’t know” she leans forward in her seat. “Maybe because one doesn’t normally stroll in covered in love bites if they haven’t at least been sucking face”

“Oh”

Do you look panicked? You feel panicked. And embarrassed. Love bites? Jesus Christ Leah, you’ve been walking around all day with those on display.

“Yeah, oh. I thought we were friends, I feel betrayed!”

“I-, I didn’t…,” you stutter, unable to get your words out as she looks at you with wide eyes.

What are you supposed to say? That you were knuckle deep in her vice captain just over 24 hours ago? Absolutely fucking not!

“I told you to keep me posted about Bar Girl!” She exclaims as she leans back against the wall once more, obviously disappointed in your inability to keep up with her requirements for gossip.

All you can do is blink at her, mouth agape at the whiplash she’s just given you. What on earth is happening right now?

“Yeah, right. Urm sorry. Me and Bar Girl are back on” you mutter when you have a second to think.

It’s her lie, not yours, alright! Don’t you dare judge.

“I knew it!” she says, smirking like a cat who's got the cream. “You’ve been acting so weird”

Your head swivels. “Weird? What do you mean, weird?” You didn’t realise you were under surveillance.

“You know, like all smiley and energetic and nice. It’s almost like you’re in love with her or something”

Love.

There’s that word again. The word that’s has been dancing on the periphery of your thoughts for weeks now. You understand it can be hard to find someone who can make you orgasm as much as Leah can, but love? Already?

Subconsciously, you look across the room. Even through the bodies of your teammates filtering in from off the training ground it doesn’t take you long to spot who you’re searching for.

She looks good. Too good for someone who’s been sweating all afternoon. Your eyes drift down to where her top has ridden up from how she’s pulling her hair back. Further still to where she’s rolled her shorts up her thighs. Thighs you frequently find your head trapped between. Then back up, past the swaths of skin on show to find her eyes boring into you.

She holds your gaze and smirks when you start to blush. Heat spreads across your face, down your neck and up to the tips of your ears. You’re not embarrassed she’s caught you, not really. Sure she’ll tease you about it later, but deep down you know she likes you staring as much as you like looking at her.

Beth clears her throat.

“You good?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m good,” you stammer, hoping she doesn’t see through your flustered demeanor. But her knowing look tells you otherwise.

-

You trail wet kisses across her chest as her hips roll against yours. Once, twice, throwing her head back on the third.

Showered, fed, unsatisfied from a night spent at your own house, you’re sat up against the headboard of Leah’s bed pulling sounds from her only you have the privilege of hearing.

Your mouth closes around a pebbled nipple. Sucking then biting then licking to soothe the sting. Her hands fly to the back of your head when you pull away, a string of saliva keeping the two of you connected. So as per a silent request you give her second breast the same treatment. Tugging at it with your teeth. You’ll leave marks, but yours won’t be visible like the ones she so graciously gifted you.

With one final suck you pull your head back to look up at the woman you’re buried inside of, and you almost die at how pretty she is. Her chest is flushed pink and her eyes are blown as they look down on you with a hunger that almost makes you fall apart then and there. You don’t have a chance to though, because she leans in to rub her nose against your own, cupping your face and licking into your mouth.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmur against her when she pulls back to breathe. Your hands running up and down her naked back. “My gorgeous girl”

You lean up to kiss her again. Using your thumb to maneuver her face, nipping at her kiss bitten lips. Red and swollen and as sweet as can be.

When you shift below her, the new angle has her sighing into your mouth, so you place your hands on her hips and encourage her to work through it all herself. And she does, bringing her knees up, crouching as she slides up and down to find the perfect drag against her walls.

Her chest bounces with each movement and you feel your eyes glaze over at the sight of it. She leans back then, keeping herself balanced with her hands on your shins, opening up for you and giving you a show.

“Fuuuck”, she moans as your fingers find her clit. Expertly rubbing tight circles over it, bringing her closer and closer to an edge she is desperate to fall off of.

She’s almost there, you can see it in the way her abs tense and how her hips begin to stutter. So close to tumbling when you pull your hand away from her, wrapping her up in your arms and flipping her over.

She lets out an uncharacteristic squeal at the sudden change in position, and you can’t help but laugh a little.

This is absurd, you think. This is your life. Secretly fucking the England captain silly almost every chance you get. If only the others knew what she was really like when she wasn’t on the grass. No one would believe you. You don’t really want them to, this version of her is solely yours to enjoy.

You sit back on your haunches. Something you like to do when you have her in this position, you have come to learn. You’re very inquisitive. Curious even. You want to know what’s happening. What’s going on when you push in and out of her. What it looks like.

She’s exposed in the best way. Pretty and pink. Ready for whatever you give her. Whatever you're willing to let her take.

You watch eagerly as you push forwards. Mesmerised by how the silicone disappears and reappears with each thrust.

“You’re taking me so well” you tell her. “Are you going to cum for me?”

“Mhm” she hums as she bites down on her bottom lip.

“Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock?”

Your question is paired with a particularly hard thrust that has her reaching for you with desperate hands. You go, obviously, because you’re finding it increasingly difficult to deny her anything these days.

“I’m close” she manages to say through her laboured intakes of breath. Looking up at you with hooded eyes and a need that makes you feral.

You lean fully forward, bracketing her head between your arms as you claim her mouth and rut into her like it’s the last time you ever would. The bed creaks unforgivingly. She cries out before she bites into the hard muscle of your trap. You hold her when she stills then shakes and leaves crescent shaped nail marks in your skin.

Everything is perfect.

“I love you”

The words fall out of your mouth before you can even stop them. Lust induced word vomit that has you wincing.

“What?” Leah asks from underneath you, but you’re too embarrassed to even speak. “Y/N?”

You freeze, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air. You hadn’t meant to say it, not like this. You weren’t even sure if you were ready to.

Panic floods your veins as you scramble for something else to say, but the words stick in your throat. Leah’s confusion is obvious beneath you as she uses a warm hand to push at your chest to get you to look at her, searching your face for answers.

Finally, you manage to croak out, “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ but the damage is done. The silence stretches between you, filled only by the sound of your racing heartbeat.

At your words she untangles herself from your embrace, sliding out from beneath you and sitting on the edge of the bed. You watch her, your heart sinking as she puts distance between you. The air feels thick with uncertainty, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve ruined everything. Your mind races with self-doubt, the fear of rejection consuming you. You use what dignity you have left to unclip the harness around your waist.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely audible even in the heavy silence. Leah turns to look at you over her shoulder, her expression hard to read in the soft light of the evening's purple haze.

There’s a pause, a pregnant moment where the world seems to hold its breath. Waiting on your judgment. Preparing for heartbreak and pain the wish to turn back time.

But before you can say anything else, Leah turns fully to face you, her gaze steady. “I think… I think I might feel the same way,” she admits, her voice quiet. Quieter than you’ve ever heard her. But it doesn’t matter, your heart skips a beat, a rush of relief flooding through you in waves.

Without hesitation, you reach across the bed to take her hand. “Really?” you breathe, unable to hide the hope in your voice.

Leah nods, a shy smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Yeah,” she says softly. “I think I do”

[deleteddewewted]

Long Distance relationship HC W/ König

MDNI

W: NSFW, Sub! König, Dom! Reader, Long Distance Relationship, Fluff, Angst, Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Cute Babygirl König, Bestfriend Elias (He's his wingman and hypeman), Cum Eating (He tastes himself)

He's such a sweetheart. He sends you pictures of strays he finds or of himself doing the most mundane things when he's at the base.

Doesnt matter how far into the relationship you're at, he's still kinda insecure about his face and sending you pictures that show his face.

He has his friend Elias though, so the guy gives him pep talks to boost his confidence.

Sometimes he does it too well cause you'll be getting a whole 12 pics of him in a span of 5 minutes all different angles and levels of motion blur.

Emoji user so expect kissy faces and hearts at the end of messages.

He texts you at ungodly hours but he'll stop if you ask him to.

He will stay up late in order to send you a good morning text.

He sometimes holds onto his pillow and pretends it's you.

You both have met a few times in person but even then it didn't feel like enough for him.

He wanted to envelop you in his arms, keep you flush against his body, and just lay there forever.

(Such a romantic, I know.)

He wishes he didn't need to leave your side but he also knows asking you to move with him wherever he goes is risky and inconsiderate of you.

He'll never make you choose so instead he promised you he'll be the one asking for a transfer once he feels ready/is forced into a less demanding position.

He just wants to live with you in the end.

He dreams of little kids running around in the living room while he embraces you from behind and lays his head on top of your own.

He can feel himself blush every time he dreams of you both finally being together and having a family.

He calls you sometimes, maybe even facetime you if he feels confident and does things with you.

He eats with you on facetime, gets himself ready for the day, changes clothes, takes a shower, cooks, anything really.

He just wants to pretend that you're both together and do theses mundane things together.

NSFW

He's so horny and it's somewhat pathetic.

He whimpers every time he jerks off and it's cause he's so sensitive. The tip of his cock is always this deep red and it looks painful.

He likes to tease himself by dragging his fingers over his length and over the veins and thinking it's you doing this to him instead of himself.

He doesn't know if cumming at a picture of you on his phone is creepy or not so he never asks you to send him anything to help him out.

If you do send him nudes or videos, maybe even audio, of yourself masturbating just know that he's going to be running to the community showers or finding some storage closet to get off in.

Because he's so pent up he needs to be quiet when he gets off. He's sharing a room with other people and sometimes the bases he's staying at doesn't provide individual barracks.

Fucks his pillows or makes a makeshift pocket pussy that he can fuck into like a dog.

In the rare case, he gets his own private barracks, he's calling you and you're both going to have some cute phone sex.

Cute phonesex? How?

Well, he's a talker and a whiny guy so he's throwing out praises like your some kind of divine being.

"Bit- Bitte! L- let me cum meine liebe~" He almost screamed into the phone but he'll be ok. He won't go against anything you say or do.

He wants to please you no matter if it means he'll have to go the next 48 hours or week hard and uncomfortable.

When he does get to cum he's thanking you profusely.

"D-anke, dan-ke, danke~!" Breathing heavy and light-headed he still finds it in himself to be grateful for you helping him relieve some of the tension he's been having.

What a good boy.

He stays on the line for a while longer just to tell you just how much he loves you and can't wait to meet up again.

He wants to hold you and take care of you and its painful to watch you take care of yourself after he got off.

He feels like it's unfair but he promises you, even though it's not necessary, that he'll devote the entire time to taking care of your needs.

Don't skip out on the praise either. He likes being told he's your good boy.

Give him kisses too. The feeling of your lips on his face is reassuring.

But, while you're both apart, just tell him that you love him and can't wait to be with him in person.

That's all the motivation he needs to make sure to keep his injuries to a minimum.

[emmyrosee]

heres a list of characters from all of my current fandoms who deserve and need to be annoyed (affectionately) bc thats like. my whole love language

1.) sakusa kiyoomi from haikyuu. dont even look at me. read almost any of my sakusa kiyoomi pieces and TELL ME he doesn't need to be bothered. bc he does. you have to be clawing him from the outside in, you need to eat his drywall, need to pick his nose, ANYTHING to bother him, do it, bc his life is too boring when you dont

2.) shinsou hitoshi from my hero academia. omg. please pester him. shinsou finds so much amusement to the lengths you go to to bother him, because you don't do it so intense; like sure, you could rip the manga out of his hand as a means to cuddle with him. but instead, you merely worm under the arms holding his manga, and you're content to cuddle like that for hours, and he is too

3.) the feminine urge to put sukuna- hot take but choso??? needs to have a nuisance by his side. because he is so deep in his head all the time that he needs the lightheartedness of your teasing and affection keeps him grounded. like sure, he could spiral out of control because of his anxieties… or he can let you bite his arm after you “salt it” because he’s “so yummy.”

4.) omg basically anyone in tokyo revengers, just please annoy him. make him so emotionally confused in your presence. like sure, he’d love to be annoyed at the fact that you’ve texted him twice about having to poop, telling him you’ve had no water, you miss him and you want to gnaw on his bones, but he’s not going to be because how could he be? no one could prepare him for the way you talk to him, and now he gets to see what… creative ways you can show him affection. sometimes, he smirks at his phone when you text him, and when he’s asked what he’s smirking about, he shakes his head and sighs, “my troublemaker just took a dump. they wanted me to tell everyone.”

5.) easy, rayne ames HASSSSSSSSS to have an annoying insignificant other. he’s got this whole ‘mysterious’ aura around him that you need to absolutely obliterate. he’s not cool, he’s a nerd who likes it when you gently run your nails over his back and hair, and you have no problem calling him out over it, much to his delight dismay. you love telling people about the stuffed rabbit he keeps on his bed and cuddles with at night when he’s mad at you, just as much as he loves grabbing your hand and dragging you away in embarrassment. he’s not fooling anyone, or escaping the “he actually loves this” allegations by keeping you around.

6.) ITOSHI RIN NEEDS TO BE BOTHERED YO. I DONT MAKE THE RULES. the mental image of poking your head over the side of the bed and flashing him the biggest set of puppy eyes to ask for a sweet treat at ungodly hours is all that’s in my brain. when he slides into bed next to you, and AS SOON AS he gets comfy, you ask him for a glass of water??? BRO HE HAAAAAATES YOU (literally loves you so much he gets it for you)

6.5) also chigiri??? i want to bother him so bad. i want to be his menace. i know for a fact he loves to pretend to hate you when you’ve just spent the past three minutes trying to squeeze a blackhead from his nose, his groans of agony ringing through the house so loud, you’re surprised the neighbors don’t hear. you both know damn well he could fling you off and across the room. but he doesn’t. again, he’s REALLY not escaping the “he actually loves this” allegations by keeping you close. 10/10 would annoy him again 🩷

——-

@reverie-starlight it truly takes one person to say yes and im frothing at the chompers SJDJDENSJ

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

rewrite the ending in the scars of sea glass・l.f

—From the moment Felix saw you drawing your dreams in the sand, he knew you were a daughter of the seas, with frozen fingers and feelings like the tide. So when the waves rush overhead, he will place his soul upon your tongue so your hollow heart can finally feel the warmth of the sun.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・felix x mommy issues!reader 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・angst, smut, a collection of moments the two of you have ever wanted to say I love you 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・10k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・I tried to make this as gender-neutral as possible so if there are any pronouns let me know and I'll fix it :) The reader had mommy issues that are heavily described, manipulation, verbal abuse, references to physical abuse but it really isn't described, love bombing, alcoholism, references to blades and knives, self-harm is kind of mentioned but its a metaphor for how her love feels, an ungodly amount of crying, panic attacks, PIV sex, CONSENT, ngl this is just some passionate lovemaking, tears during sex, references to the princess bride the greatest love story of all time I will die on this hill, nothing else so far...

𝐚/𝐧・I have poured my heart and soul into this fic this was my beckon to live my hurt through the scenes of this story I hope that it heals you the way that it healed me

screenplay

❝ "In every lifetime?" you utter ❞

i. It is the wounds we hide from the light that beg most to be seen.

— For the first time at age twelve, stuck in sweat-caked sand, your heart formed the words I love you.

ii. I could find your soul in the sky because yours is the only one that smells like home.

— After a long night, caught in a bubble of beer, all you want to do is collapse. But what will you do if you're in the middle of school and the teacher just announced a test?

iii. There are so many things in the world that must first collapse before they are born; why do we not believe humans are the same way?

— You show up at Felix's house, broken and distraught. What will he do with your shattered heart?

iv. Just once, let him rewrite the story; just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again.

— You were still friends, even as he fucks your pain away.

vi. She is only in your DNA.

— Well... I think we'll just leave this one a surprise.

❝ "In every lifetime." Even the earth knows he means forever ❞

Fair warning: I have written around 8k words of this, but I'm through the middle of iii., and I've already written iv. So, assuming the length of the rest plus any add-ins, it will be around 10k-11k. I have a terrible habit of changing my mind, so all of this is fit to change, though I doubt it will. Most likely, I'm just going to add more.

Okay, I hope you're excited to read it, and let me know if you want to be tagged!

[mustainegf]

hii :)

could I request something where Dave calls reader in the middle of the night all whiny because he can’t get off (him and reader aren’t in an established relationship)? And if you could please avoid the mommy kink? Nothing against it it just personally doesn’t do anything for me 😅

OHHHHH LORD THIS IS GOOD YOUNG DAVE PLS ME NEXT PLS CALL ME DAVE

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 ¹⁹⁸³

The phone woke me with a shrill ring. The clock was glowing 2:13 AM from my nightstand. Groggily, I reached over and picked up the receiver, barely registering who could be calling at this ungodly hour.

"Hello?" I mumbled, my voice thick as sand.

"H-Hey, it's Dave," he replied in a low, shaky voice. Instantly, I was more awake. Dave was one of my best friends, but even with that given, it wasn't common for him to call me at this hour, if ever.

"Dave? What's wrong?" My concern mounted at his answer.

"I… I know it's late. I'm really sorry. I just… I couldn't stop thinking about you," he said, his tone now bordering on desperate. "I need you."

His words passed through me, confusing and exciting all at once, somehow. "What do you mean?" I asked once more as my pulse increased.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he replied, much firmer this time. "Please... I need to get off, and you’re all I can think about..."

I was speechless, utterly speechless as I realized Dave was currently cock in hand. This wasn't the Dave I knew, who joked and laughed and felt challenged by any word spoken to him.

Yet, something sparked under me. "You're serious?" I asked wearily, trying to make my voice steady.

"Yes," he said, catching his breath. "I know it sounds crazy, but I can't help it. Please, I need you.”

The line was heavy with silence. Then, almost involuntarily, I found myself responding. "What… what do you want me to do?"

"Tell me what you're wearing," he begged, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as I could hear a quick shifting of something on the other line.

I looked down at my ruffled pajama top and shorts. "Just a shirt, and panties," I said, shivering oddly at the idea of sharing even this mundane fact.

"Take them off," he said softly. "Imagine my hands are on you, undressing you."

I shivered, both from the cool air and the heat in his words. Slowly, I slipped out of my clothes, the fabric whispering against my skin. "They're off," I whispered back.

"Good girl," he breathed. "Now, touch yourself. Tell me how it feels."

My hand moved almost of its own accord, trailing down my body until I found the warmth between my thighs. I was already slick just from his words.

I twitched softly at the contact. "It feels g-good," I confessed, my breath rising.

"Keep going," he urged, wet sounds echoing from his line. "Imagine it's me touching you. My fingers inside you."

I did, shutting my eyes and picturing Dave’s fingers screwing into me, curling up into my gummy walls.

My clit was so weak from the thought of Dave in bed, clutching the phone as he worked his frustrated cock.

“I’m covered in precum… that’s what you do to me..” Dave groaned. Good lord, I just about melted at the thought of his length slick with cum, wishing insides that it was mine.

"God, I wish I could see you right now," he moaned. "I'm so close. Are you gonna cum soon?"

"Yes," I murmured, teetering on the edge of orgasm.

"Cum for me," he growled, his voice raw and commanding. "Cum with me."

That was all it. My body bucked, and I screamed, cumming and spanning around my fingers. I could hear Daves own release, a primal sound that sent another tremble through me.

I whined as we both caught our breath, whimpering incoherent words, he spoke again, and his tone had changed. "I'm coming over."

"What?" I asked, my post orgasmic haze breaking slightly.

"I need to see you," he said firmly. "I need to be with you. I'm coming over right now."

The line went dead before I could even respond. I lay there for a moment, my mind racing with everything that had just happened in the last 5 minutes.

I didn't know what would happen when Dave got there, but one thing was for sure, the night was far from over.

[hollowsart]

Thaal Sinestro of Korugar

-cracks knuckles-

Here's ALL of his lore that I cooked up:

(warning for: the sheer ungodly length of this, mentions of death, and a low-key humorous mention of alien physiology at the end cuz I couldn't help myself--)

(Some of this might still be a slight work in progress and/or may be subject to change later on. I'm not sure yet.)

-----

Backstory:

It wasn’t supposed to end that way. He wanted her to be safe and far away from the threat of action. Unfortunately.. he had made a mistake and it cost him greatly. Both heart and mind.

The loss of his wife.. the loss of his best friend, Abin Sur’s sister.. it caused quite the disruption in their friendship.

Some time well after that horrible event, Sinestro and Abin got into an altercation. An argument while out on duty. Abin had heard of Sinestro’s plans, but he didn’t agree with them. Both men were already still rocky and broken from the loss of Arin. So, when Sinestro was plotting some way of utilizing his GL powers to enforce order and protection.. no matter how unreasonable. Abin Sur lashed out. Calling him crazy, delusional, that nothing will ever bring her back.

Sinestro.. well.. he wasn’t thinking and without any ill intention.. he attacked Abin Sur. He only wanted to try and reason with him. He didn’t mean to do it.. but a stray blast from his ring managed to wreck the ship they were traveling in.. and the blast severely damaged Abin Sur.

..Sinestro fled the ship in horror, not seeing the fate of his friend as the ship hurtled down to a particular blue planet. The thought of having presumably killed his own partner and friend on top of having already dealt with the loss of his wife.. well.

That absolutely destroyed him. Shattered him so deeply.. he’s grown distant. Disconnected and apathetic. Bottling up, locking away, and throwing the key away with his emotions..

This was the beginning of the end of his GL career.. and the lead up to him being picked up by the Yellow Corps. The immense fear and angst building up inside him being strong enough he found a new life with the Yellow Lanterns. However, he couldn’t take the life and went rogue. Taking the ring with him and starting his own little sect.

----

imagine. some late series episode that ends with a little close up of some guy who looks a bit like Vincent Price for some reason lowering his newspaper and staring in Guy & Feste's direction as they head back home for the day after having a chat at some outdoor cafe.

you don't know who this weird guy is until it's later revealed that it was Sinestro. He ALSO used his ring to go incognito and appear human so as not to attract any attention while he "stalks" Guy & Feste for some reason idk I didn't think this far.

---

it kinda adds weight to the act of killing him. but like.. it probably killed Sinestro, too.. to do it. maybe it was an accident..? unintentional… during a fight.. and Sinestro was hiding it. and although Guy reminds him of Abin Sur… he hates Guy because he reminds him of Abin Sur and what he did to him. like a weird sort of "reincarnation" thing?? if that makes sense??

Guy being so angry at Sinestro for what he did feels almost cathartic for Sinestro cuz he knows he deserves it.

---

Sinestro sees occasional visions of his wife and friend begging and pleading for his help that will never come. This fuels his fear to power his ring. he needs fear to wield it. and that is a big fear. the repetitive action of losing his wife and friend and not being able to do anything about it.

---

Miscellaneous:

Soranik Natu was given the Natu surname as she was raised by another family. whether on Ungara or Korugar is undecided, but she does keep it.

Sinestro was unable to continue raising her as he was in no condition to do so, and Arin was.. well. out of the picture.

Sinestro sees Soranik and hears her name and he knows that's his daughter and he feels sick. She looks like her mother, he can see it. There's the underlying fear of what she may think of him and how much she may take after him. He is very aware of the terrible things he has done but he is blinded, in a sense, thinking what he is doing is for the greater good. to protect people..

To protect Soranik.

From a fate that fell upon Arin Sur and many others.

---

Soranik is like a combination of the two. her horns are smaller and so are her ears. she has tiny "tusks" (fangs?) compared to her mom.

but she also has elements similar to her dad.

also I can't help but think about Sinestro saying he wishes for his daughter to not become like him, but to instead become more like her mother. honor her memory. it's a terrible loss for the universe for someone like Arin Sur to no longer be in it..

---

I 100% want there to be a moment in an episode where Sinestro's backstory is revealed. like… his life he had up to when Guy first met him. We get to see just how tragic his backstory is.

There's been some subtle little hints here and there before, like someone from on Oa hearing Guy make a remark about Sinestro's weird earring and they tell him what they know.. how it's actually something very meaningful, a combination of two races and their culture. how it is a show of respect and mourning..

the mourning rituals of both Ungarans and Korugarians came together when Sinestro lost Arin. The piercings worn by those who lost a partner from Korugar.. and the wearing of a specific flora from Ungara..

Sinestro's mournful earring has a unique flora depicted hanging from it. A custom metal made to resemble that flora from Ungara.. to honor the memory of Arin Sur. He wears it always except when bathing or resting, but he keeps it with him ever so close at all times.

Should he lose that earring at all… well…

we might just see Sinestro become a Red Lantern.

---

I do kinda like the idea that Ungara and Korugar are relatively close planets with their own races inhabiting them. and because of this, the two races are uniquely compatible, genetically speaking, which leads to how Soranik Natu was born at all when Thaal Sinestro got with Abin Sur's sister, Arin Sur. Sinestro & Arin were the first ones to discover this.

Also, Ungarans are taller than Korugarians. Soranik stands a little taller than Sinestro.

Sinestro is 5'5" (average)

Soranik is 5'9"

Arin & Abin Sur: 6'6" 6'8" (average)

---

(Warning for alien physiology talk & humor)

what if Sinestro has never seen a human before and the first time he sees Guy shirtless in the Oa locker room he notices Guy only has 2 n1ps and Sinestro is like:

"Only 2? However will you feed all your young? Surely they should starve with such a lack of bodily provisions."

And Guy stands there extremely confused. Asks him what in the ever-loving heck he's talking about. Sinestro responds by merely removing his own clothes and presents his 8 n1ps.

Guy is understandably disturbed by the implications now registering in his mind.

If Guy ever mentions pregnancy, Sinestro responds "The women carry the young and the men provide for the young. ..What does your kind do? Don't tell me the women do all the work and that you're utterly useless? You humans are quite the odd creature."

Guy is very much offended.

[hearts4youz]

The Captains Daughter -Chapter 3-

A/N Sorry for the longer wait!!! chapters 4 and 5 are ready to go and will be out this week/weekend as well!! hope yall are doing great and enjoy this chapter! its a bit of a slow one, the next few are too but I promise it will get better!!

@abbiesxox

Word count: 1.1k

Reader pov:

*Beep beep*

*Beep beep*

4:45 AM, your alarm was blaring. You let out an ungodly noise as you stretched your still sleeping muscles, reaching over to shut it off. Breakfast started in 15 mins, reporting was mandatory. You used the restroom, brushed your teeth, washed your face with your standard issue bar of soap, which to be honest, didn't do much for skincare. It was more for sterilization than anything.

You combed your hair back into a low ponytail. Luckily the uniform regulations were much more relaxed here than your old base. Your hair only needed to be tied back in some form if it was past chin length, instead of the required sleek low bun most other military organizations required.

Putting on your uniform and double knotting your shoes, you opened your door and began walking to the mess. Almost running face first into a man with a mustache. You looked up to apologize and realized it was your father.

"Watch where you're going fatass," You joked. (A/N- please tell me yall got the mean girls reference.)

Your dad laughed, your footsteps fell in sync and the two of you walked to breakfast together.

"How was your first day of training with your Lieutenant?"

"I don't think I'm up to his standards," you confessed. Remembering Ghost's disapointment with you the day before

"Ah yeah, Ghost is tough to please. Don’t stress about it kid, if he’s mean to you it usually means he likes you,” He winked.

You rolled your eyes, “he doesn’t even think I belong here, he kicked my ass when we sparred.”

“Ghost is a great soldier, he’s incredibly strong and has seen a lot of hand to hand combat. He can be blunt, but it’s cause he wants to make you better, not boost your confidence,” your dad tries reassuring you.

“Thank you dad, but something tells me him and I won’t get along too well," your opinion unchanged.

He sighs, the two you enter the mess hall and fall into line.

"Speak of the devil," your dad says, lightly elbowing you.

you turned around to see Ghost and Soap had gotten in line behind you.

"Captain!" Soap exclaimed, with just a tad too much energy for 5 in the morning."

You looked up at him and grinned. He had shaved his face, which appeared to have shaved a decade off of his life.

"MacTavish!" Your father clapped him on the back. "You don't look a day over twelve," he teased.

The four of you laughed, the first time you've seen your lieutenant do anything of the sort.

Ghost caught your quizzical expression and quickly stopped, expression reducing to the same stone faced soldier you were growing familiar with.

"Ghost?" Soap wondered why he stopped laughing.

Soaps gaze switched from him to you.

"Oh," was all that came out of his mouth

You were confused, why wouldn't Ghost laugh around you?

Why did soap seem to instantly know why?

Ghost pov:

I was not about to let Y/N see my "human" side, maybe once she proves she can handle herself. I think as I fork bacon onto my tray.

I dared to steal a glance at her, she was back to talking and laughing with Soap and Price. It is odd seeing someone act so informal around him. I know he is her father and all, but everyone else acts so reverent towards him.

I am due to continue her training at 4:00 this afternoon. Dread fills my veins. I hate the thought of being in charge of the training that is designed to save someones life. What if I fail to teach her something that she needs in a dire situation? What if I am too soft on her and she remains weaker than her opponents.

No, that won't happen.

You will be hard on her, you will show no remorse, you won't feel bad. She is not your friend, she is your sergeant. I repeat this to myself in my head as we gather our trays and walk to the table. I ate in silence, paying little attention to the conversation. Gaz and Alejandro had joined us at this point. I stared down at the plate in front of me. The bacon here is nasty.

I wanted to leave. I hated it with Y/N here.

Its not that I don't like her, well actually maybe that is partially why.

But, when I look at her, its like seeing a child. Something that needs to be looked after, someone with a lot to learn, someone who isn't ready to face the world.

I stood up to leave without a word. I head towards the gym to get in a quick lift before the morning briefing.

"Simon!"

Soap had followed me

"Fucking hell" I said under my breath.

"You cant be a jackass to her forever," Johnny said, jogging to catch up with me.

"Until I can safely befriend her without having to worry about having to identify her body a week later I will be," I huffed.

"Simon, I know it hit you like a truck when Henry Jones, and Bill Anderson died, I know how you get when you hear about the death of anyone," he tried to reason.

"I know you always think it's your fault when something goes wrong. I know you want to protect everyone, and I know you don't mean to be an asshole." I looked at him from the corner of my eye.

"But not everyone else knows that," he continued. "Your colleagues are afraid of you. They think you're heartless. I know you aren't, the rest of the squad knows you aren't, well except Y/N.

Him and I walked the rest of the way in silence. I contemplated his words.

Your colleagues are afraid of you

"I don't want her to be afraid."

"Hm?" Soap turned his head

"Y/N, I don't want her to be afraid of me," I confirmed

"The mask sure isn't helping," Soap joked to break the tension. "Actually, keep it on- whats underneath is worse," he snickered.

"You bastard, I'm not ugly," I cracked a smile from beneath said mask.

Johnny has seen my face once, on a mission. I was sucker punched and it cracked.

"What does she think of me?" I say, curiosity besting me.

"She thinks you're a total dick."

"figured"

"You can fix that though," Soap said "It's pretty simple, maybe instead of beating the shit out of her to start training, you could ask how her day is going." He sarcastically adds

I roll my eyes, "I'm capable of friendship."

Soap laughs, "I'll put in a good word for you LT."

Smiling and shaking my head, I walk away.

[uchihaharlot]

Shsjdjdj Imagine, you want something back from Shisui that he borrowed from you, so you sneak into his room to get it, but you hear him coming so you hide in his closet, and him and Itachi come in and are just talking, and then they start making out and stuff, and your just watching from the closet, and and and and maybe they secretly know your there and fuck each other infront of you or something like that- my brain all over for this one - also yes that was all one sentence. Fight me.

Oooo. I love this. It’s no secret Shisui can be sort of inadvertently be a kleptomaniac. It’s not malicious by any means. He just is really bad at returning things to people.

NSFW; some hot ass Shisui and Itachi; read for the details.

— So when he borrowed your favorite book. You instantaneously knew that prying it from his hands would be problematic. Not in sense that he would purposely withhold your belongings.

— But his room in a fucking mess. Aside from the rest of his house; yes you absolutely tore through it—nicely of course. The last place was his bedroom. You feared for your book and your sanity on its retrieval. Aside from the empty cans of water, and the various energy drink. You couldn’t find your book.

— Even checking under his mattress, nothing. Then you heard footsteps enclosing at an alarming rate. He was supposed to be out training with Itachi, this put a wrench in your recon mission. The second they enter the room its hushed whispers, you fortunately ended up in his closet. Chakra concealed, crouched beneath a pile of sweaty ass training clothes. Mundane words of clan business between the two as usual.

— Then silence, followed by the unforgettable sound of lips touching and soft panting. More hushed whispers, but you distinctly hear Shisui say, ‘you’re gonna get it for that little number earlier.’ Your curious eyes and hands lifted at the god knows what you used to cover your face, and holy shit. The immaculate amount of arousal spread through your body was embarrassingly high. This…this was not expected, but also not surprising. Extremely welcoming though.

— Your own Uchiha show. They worked fast, Shisui lazily stroked Itachi’s cock in one hand as the other worked his own. How would Fugaku feel knowing the clan heir was getting plowed by his best friend? Surely he wouldn’t be as excited as you. It was hot, two of the most attractive men in this clan just going at one another’s throats. Sucking and nibbling each other. Then Shisui forcing Itachi to his knees and tapping his cock against eagerly parting lips. Roughly shoving it in Itachi’s mouth eliciting him to gag. It was almost unfair how good he was at it.

— You clearly had died. This was the only sane conclusion, Shisui came home and mistaken you for an intruder and killed you without it registering. But no, it wasn’t, because the sound of Shisui’s deep moaning matched the fervent mouth pace Itachi had on his cock. Your eyes did not deceive you. Yep, this was real. It was happening, no matter. Hidden in your stuffy sanctuary, this was one thing you could see to the end and if you hand ended up in your pants. It was merely a coincidence.

— Your excitement only grew as Shisui lifted Itachi to a searing kiss, pushed him on the bed and slicked an ungodly amount of lube over his length. Itachi’s desperate effort to pull his pants down was just fast enough for Shisui to breach his waiting hole. That alone had you on the verge of climax. Your own mouth almost betrayed you with a moan. You had to stop, allow the buildup to simmer down. Watched as Shisui wrung Itachi’s beautiful hair in one hand and smack his ass with the other. Hard thrusts that made Itachi moan in falsetto. Even not touching yourself you could almost cum.

— Yet, it was endearing. They had been doing this for a while, there was no way that either one weren’t familiar with each other under these circumstances. Shisui towered over Itachi’s back side. Hand expertly stroking his cock, the way Itachi and Shisui looked at one another in this moment was ethereal. And there was that damn hand of yours. Playing tribute to yourself, matching as best you could to Shisui tenderly plowing Itachi. Their loud moaning turned into soft panting. More hushed whispers, ‘I’m close’ and ‘don’t stop.’ Had you reeling in pleasure.

— The resounding groan that Shisui let out, his hips jutting. Your eyes couldn’t keep up. Itachi milked by Shisui’s hand as his thrusts tapered and eventually stopped. The heat of your own climax felt dirty, but why should you care? It wasn’t like they heard you. Or saw you.

— A snug grin spread Shisui’s mouth. “I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.” Which, to your surprise. You though he was talking to Itachi. But when he looked behind him, it seemed that Itachi was as just as perplexed as you were.

— It was comical to at you tried to cover yourself in his smelly clothes again. Shisui wasn’t having any of it, opening the closet doors. A bewildered Itachi in the background, Shisui more amused than anything. “Next time, you’ll join us.”

— “Uh.” Where was that stupid mouth of yours when you needed it? “I came for my book.” Shisui didn’t doh t that, you were stingy with your belongings. It wasn’t his laugh that made your stomach disappear, but rather when he said. “I gave that back to you two weeks ago.”

— “Oh. Really?” Yea; you did. You hounded him for it. You usually didn’t forget these things; but there had been so much going on you forgot about it. “My bad.”

— It was a good thing Shisui was so chill. Helped you up and spun you around into the center of his room. Itachi was less than pleased that you had seen one of his darkest secrets. He was more irate with Shisui for knowing you had been there all along.

— “You owe me.” Itachi slapped his back, Shisui snickers. “You owe Itachi too.” Which wasn’t what he was getting at. “Don’t go too far after tomorrows training.”

— With that you nodded silently and made you way out the window.

[nimonabigbang]

Participant Spotlight — Wiz!

Writer pinch hitter, Artist pinch hitter | Tumblr: @wizisbored | AO3: Wiz_is_bored

Wiz's dog is called William and he is an old man (twelve)

Why did you join the Nimona Big Bang?

I had only just watched the film for the first time when the original sign-ups were happening. I considered it, but ultimately decided that I wasn't invested enough in the fandom yet to commit. Fast-forward to my hundreth time watching it with my flatmate, at least one wip deep already (I don't remember if the cowboy au was around at the time), and I have an idea for another fic. We're a few weeks away from a uni deadline and my project isn't going anywhere good so I decide that I won't start the fic until after hand-in, and I won't even mention it on tumblr to avoid distracting myself. When I do eventually start I think hey, I've made it this far, let's see how long I can keep this to myself. So when I see the post asking for writer pinch-hitters, I've already got 600-800 words of a secret fic that I have a solid plan for, and that isn't going to be an ungodly length like most of my ideas. So, here I am.

Share something you like about the Nimona movie or comic.

This allegorical pink shapeshifter is the thing that made me fully understand why representation matters to people. I'd watched stuff with explicit, literal trans rep before and thought 'oh hey trans person' and 'oh hey trans thing I do that' but I never *felt* anything. I appreciated it more in a 'making trans stuff visible to other people' way than anything, but really it didn't mean all that much to me. But Nimona *resonates*. I don't care if it's not explicit or literal it made me *feel* something, for the first time. And I have theories as to why that is, but without going into all that I can only be thankful to the filmmakers who saw something there and ran with it. I still yell 'cis man behaviour' at Ballister on the train every time.

Favorite characters: Nimona (movie version), Nimona (comic version), the Director

Other fandoms: Beetlejuice the Musical

Other hobbies: I play irish tenor banjo and am working on transfering that skill to mandolin, collect horse brasses and country records from charity shops, and dabble in various arts and crafts.

Is there anything else that you'd like to share about yourself?

I study performance design at university with a personal focus on theatre puppetry, and have just started a project where I will be building a life-sized Nimona puppet. Unsure how much of that I'll be able to share online, but I'm excited.

[ddarker-dreams]

Meet The Parents II. 🎀

Giorno x F Reader / Narancia x F Reader. Commissioned piece.

Word count: 3.3k. Note: Dialogue in italics is meant to represent words spoken in English !! [Scarlet Ribbons Index]

It’s the type of day a tourist couldn’t be happier with. Cloudless baby blue skies, nonexistent humidity, and a light northern breeze to cool the skin.

Giorno Giovanna thinks that the timing for such weather couldn’t have been better. Given your current frazzled condition, entertaining your two special guests from overseas is made easier by the outdoors' availability. The young Don fears you’d stress yourself into an early grave otherwise. You said you’re going to dazzle and distract your parents with Napoli’s beauty, so as not to allow any downtime.

Downtime means more intimate conversations. Apparently, this is a risk you don’t want to take, hence your current tour guide persona.

“Is she still looking out the window?” Giorno queries your Stand, who has taken to floating around dejectedly. In an attempt to soothe your nerves, Scarlet Ribbons tried braiding your hair, an effort met with reproach. While you normally let your Stand amuse itself by fashioning your hair into innumerable styles, you claimed ‘you have a strict image to maintain and can’t go around looking like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.’

Your Stand nods in affirmation at Giorno’s question.

“Did she at least put the binoculars down?”

This time, a shake of the head.

Hurried footsteps echo against the tile of Giorno’s villa, footsteps that can only belong to you, as he’s dismissed the few employees trusted with the home’s upkeep for the day. Your Stand fades away, apparently still in low spirits from your earlier altercation. You round the corner and sigh in relief upon spotting Giorno.

“They’re returning from their walk,” you have a distinct pleasure in confirming. “We’ve almost made it through this harrowing trial.”

Giorno disguises a chuckle by clearing his throat. “Has it been that cumbersome? You look like you’re in your element to me.”

“Yeah, if my element is ‘ungodly distress’. I think I’ll need a therapist when this is all said and done.”

“I’ll see that it’s arranged.”

Giorno’s attempts at soothing your nerves are fruitful. It’s strange, this switch in roles. You were usually the one who made a point of uplifting the spirits of others. While Giorno’s more reserved nature doesn’t lend well to making you burst into hysterics like Mista or Narancia can, he fills another role. One that is specially carved out in his shape, unable to be occupied by another.

He is the best at getting a read on you. Though he’d never admit it aloud, he takes pride in the fact. The others may have known you longer, but he catches the nuances they’re blind to.

For instance, he sees the genuine sprouts of concern hiding beneath your typical display of theatrics. You’ve gone to great lengths to hide your involvement with Italy’s underbelly. This false impression, meticulously crafted, could shatter like glass at the slightest pressure. Doing so would undoubtedly break something inside you too.

Giorno refuses to let that happen. Not when you’ve become so integral in his life, that he can scarcely remember a time when you weren’t around.

He trails not far behind as you run to greet your parents. Their faces light up the second they spot you — he can’t blame them. Before he enters the conversation, he recalls the words spoken by Bucciarati many years ago on his first trip to Libeccio.

“The others might give you a hard time at first, but try not to hold it against them. That’s just their way of getting to know you,” Bruno trailed off. Then his lips quirked into a fond smile. “However, you don’t need to worry about that with [First]. She’ll make you feel like you’ve known one another your entire lives within minutes.”

It was exactly as Bruno foretold.

“GioGio, my mom and dad want to thank you for your ‘cousin’s’ hospitality,” you call over to him.

Giorno wasn’t sure if he should be concerned or impressed by how quickly you crafted a lie to explain away his opulent residence. For safety’s sake, Giorno thought it best if he met your parents privately, away from the prying eyes that came as a consequence of being Passione’s boss. Thus came the tale that his Posillipo estate actually belonged to some rich cousin who felt gracious enough to lend it to him for a few hours.

Your worldbuilding went beyond that, but that captures the essence of things. He admires your tenacity.

His appearance in the backyard where your family unit has huddled together is met with a chorus of accented ‘grazies’.

“Woah, that was pretty solid,” you give an approving look. “Have you been practicing that?”

“I read on a pamphlet that we should know how to at least say hi, yes, no, and thank you,” your mom confirms.

“Still can’t roll my r’s if my life counted on it, though,” is your dad’s contribution.

“Well, one year of high school Spanish can only do so much,” you give your dad a conciliatory pat on the shoulder for good measure.

He shakes his head. “I took French.”

You make a face of faux sympathy. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Giorno feels a stirring within the recesses of his soul. This close-knit bond is unfamiliar to him, a long-forgotten desire he chased after futility as a child. He knows of the hardships you endured, and how you were brought into Passione’s fold for the lack of a better alternative. This is what you fought to preserve. What you shed blood, sweat, and tears for, hiding the damning trifecta behind a seemingly carefree smile.

He resolves himself to fight for it too.

“It’s been my pleasure,” Giorno responds in kind. He might not be as English savvy as Fugo, but he can roughly follow a conversation and chime in on the occasion.

The young Don then turns his attention to you. “I’ve prepared a small gift for them, if that’s alright.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, contemplative. “Is it… proletariat friendly? No Giorgio Armani or Gucci, right?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that. You can look it over first if you’d prefer.”

“Nah, I trust you. I’m just on high alert. Mista wanted to give them a vintage bottle of Chateau Cheval Blanc and I almost died. I can’t keep giving everyone rich cousins…”

Giorno can’t say he didn’t expect such shenanigans. Everyone is doing what they can to land themselves in your parent’s good graces, for if you hold their opinion in such high regard, it might be the key to claiming your hand one day. This appears to be an unspoken yet universally understood truth. While Giorno would find it unbecoming to consider your parents a means to an end, he isn’t going to pass on this rare opportunity.

It isn’t just about winning them over either. Your approval factors into the equation as well.

After a brief departure, Giorno returns with two wrapped boxes in tow. He hands them to your mother and father respectively. You look as curious as they do, inspecting the present’s outward appearance for any hints. He takes a deep breath. It isn’t often he’s nervous, since his position doesn’t permit such weakness, yet he can’t deny the fluttering in his stomach. He moves on to the next stage of his plan.

“Please tell them I wanted to show a small token of my appreciation, for having raised such a kind and thoughtful daughter,” Giorno isn’t surprised to see your face morph into embarrassment. Still, he continues, a touch of mischief underlying his tone, “I’ll know if you mistranslate, [First]. English was my foreign language class.”

You give an exaggerated sigh and resign yourself to your fate. You repeat what Giorno said to them, uncharacteristically sheepish as you do so. His heart soars at how endearing the sight is. A devious side of himself tempts him to tease you more, but his polite tendencies win out, advising that now isn’t the time.

True to his word, the gifts are nothing that showcase his exuberant bank account. It’s a simple tie for your father and a brooch shaped like a ribbon for your mother — both a recognizable shade of scarlet. You look at the gift, then him, your mouth agape and your eyes glossy. He can decipher the depths of your gratitude without you needing to utter a word.

“Well, look at that,” your father holds the tie up for closer inspection. “You’re always wearing this color anymore, [First]. I guess it’ll be a family thing now.”

Your mother expresses her appreciation next. “What a thoughtful gift. I have an outfit that’ll match this perfectly! Tell your friend he has such good taste…”

Giorno decides the evening couldn’t have ended on a more positive note.

Your parents don’t depart long after that, jet lag still weighing them down. You offer to accompany them in the taxi back to their hotel, but they say they don’t want to take up any more of your time than they already have. So you settle for staring out the window until the cab leaves your line of sight. This time, you’re noticeably missing your binoculars, which Giorno believes your Stand hid in a vengeful act.

Once you’re certain they’re long gone, you run at Giorno with open arms.

He lets out an ‘oof’ at the unexpected impact, his cheeks flushing and hands uncertain where to settle themselves. Eventually, he reciprocates your embrace, ignoring the knowing thumbs up Scarlet Ribbons gives from behind your shoulder.

“I can’t thank you enough, GioGio,” you pull back, much to his disappointment. The bright smile lighting up your face instantly makes up for it. “I really… wow. This might sound kinda silly, but whenever I get homesick, I think I’ll feel better knowing they have a reminder of me like that near them.”

A wistful yearning fills him then. This wish to pull you back to his chest, reassure you that he’d do anything to appease whatever negative emotions you may harbor — homesickness or otherwise — but he keeps himself in check.

It wouldn’t be appropriate for him to do that yet.

Still, he’ll see to it that a day will come when he can.

“It’s the least I could do. I consider your family to be my family.”

And so they will be, if his next dream is to be fulfilled.

-

It doesn’t take much to excite Narancia.

He’s always brimming with energy — too much energy, according to Fugo, but who cares what that guy thinks — ready for anything and everything. His infinite enthusiasm somehow doubles whenever you’re involved. Anyone with a set of functioning eyes could see how utterly lovesick he is for you. Well, except for you, apparently, who finds it presumptuous to assume others’ feelings.

When you still came back to visit him at the hospital, despite the way he snapped at you for what he considered ‘pity’, he swore an oath to himself. No matter the cost, he would see to it that you’re happy and never cause you distress again. If presented with the choice between having you or the world, he’d pick you every time, without hesitation.

You’re precious to him, living proof that not everyone will cast him aside at the first opportunity.

Convincing himself of this has been an uphill battle. He’s been left behind too many times to count, made into nothing but a stepping stone for others to advance forward. Distrust cultivated throughout an entire lifetime is not so easily dissipated. They linger, like sediment that’s fallen to the bottom of a pond, waiting to rise at the slightest stir.

Narancia rattles off the gelato order you gave him, barely comprehending the fact he needs to pay once the employee confirms it. His head is elsewhere. He hands over more cash than necessary, grumbles something about keeping the change, then scurries to the side. In the background, he catches the melodic sound of your laughter. He sees you clutching your stomach, your eyes crinkling with mirth, and both your parents smiling as well.

Narancia has always wanted to secure your happiness… so why is it this sight unsettles him so?

Feeling the way he does now is nothing short of aggravating. He doesn’t understand it or know how to make it go away.

Regardless, he knows he needs to try. It would put a damper on the mood if he comes back over and sulks. He likes your parents and wants them to like him too. He might not be super smart the way Fugo is, or as charismatic as Giorno, but he still wants to showcase his strong points. That’s why he’s been mentally preparing for this day. Practicing English (by listening to rap music, but he still counts it), fixing his posture, and even acting all gentlemanly. He can’t recall a time he’s held open so many doors and pulled out so many chairs.

“Nara, need some help carrying all that?”

Your abrupt appearance nearly has him yelping in shock. Narancia steadies himself, preparing to ask what you mean when he recalls the tray in his hands. He can’t recall a time when he crawled so deep into his head.

His skin flushes when you poke his cheek. “Hello? Earth to Narancia? Did looking at the gelato give you some sort of existential crisis?”

“N-No! There’s, uh, no crisis here.”

You give him a quick glance over, as if not entirely convinced, yet ultimately relent. Narancia sighs in relief. Had you decided to keep pressing the subject, he isn’t sure if he would’ve been able to deflect your attempts. Lying hasn’t ever been his forte.

The gelato is dispersed among the four of you. You’ve settled at a quaint picnic table, rustling branches overhead granting refuge from the Mediterranean sun. Although Narancia can’t understand whatever conversation is taking place, he nods along, his eyes never leaving your animated form. He admires how your hair billows in the breeze, pulled up in a high ponytail and strung into place with a ribbon.

He’s always thought your hallmark color suits you. It’s warm, bold, and passionate. He couldn’t see a shade of scarlet without his thoughts instantly drifting to you.

“My parents were wondering if you’ve ever thought about visiting the States.”

Narancia does what he can to shake the shackles of uncertainty off of him so he can respond. “I kicked the idea around when I was younger, yeah. It might be kinda hard now. Lotta work to do.”

“I can’t blame you for developing an aversion to flying after Sardegna,” you nudge him with your elbow. “Maybe we can revisit the idea when things settle down. There’s so much I’d want to show you. I just know you’d love it! In Times Square, grown men walk around dressed as Elmo and harass people if they don’t give ‘em money after you take a picture together. It’s hilarious.”

Your dad throws something in, which you translate with unrivaled excitement. “I almost forgot! You’d get to try New York pizza… it apparently descends from a Napoli immigrant, what’re the chances of that. I know you fiercely defend your Neapolitan pizza’s honor, but I’m confident I can convert you.”

He scrunches up his nose. “No way. That shit sounds—”

Remembering his company, he slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Pff, Nara, it’s fine, they can’t understand you,” you wave off his concern. “They wanted to let you know you’re welcome anytime. There’s no need to rush an answer, though. I’ll just say that you’re thinking about it.”

Narancia pushes his melting gelato around with a spoon. “Hey, [First]?”

“Mhm?”

“Have you ever…” The words die on his tongue, for the mere possibility submerges him in grief, “Have you ever thought about moving back? To your home, I mean. Cause… Giorno would let you. Then you could pursue your dreams again and be happy.”

He can’t bring himself to face you. Guilt weighs down on him like an anchor — here you are, trying to enjoy an outing with your parents you haven’t seen face to face in years, and he’s bringing down the mood. The fear of this future manifesting into reality hurts. It isn’t a brief, weak pang, it’s a heavy ache that reverberates throughout his entire being.

You’re his best friend, his first love, his everything.

Would seeing your parents — a reminder that you have a home elsewhere — threaten to take that away from him? And could he ever be selfish enough to stop it?

You rattle off something, causing both your parents to stand. They send a friendly wave Narancia’s way, which he returns with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, given the tempest brewing in his heart. Then they’re off to overlook the Golfo di Napoli, fitting in perfectly with another cluster of tourists.

“Is this what’s been bothering you, Narancia?”

He can’t bring himself to speak, so he nods his head.

You rest your hand over his. Your skin is soft and warm, a combination that serves as a balm to his malaise. He recalls when he’d been forced to live in the streets, after serving time in a detention center for a crime he didn’t commit. He remembers how his former ‘friends’ abandoned him, spreading rumors that the eye disease he’d contracted was contagious, his isolation seemingly set in stone. No one looked at him, came near him, much less touched him.

When you visited him in the hospital for the first time, you practically tripped over yourself to hug him. His heart monitor had gone through the roof — he couldn’t believe a pretty girl like you would willingly come into contact with him.

You intrinsically knew how to comfort him then, and you know how to comfort him now.

“Well, I guess it’s natural to wonder that. I won’t lie and say I’ve never considered it. For the longest time, I tried to push it to the back of my mind, because there was a lot of work to do before my debt would be paid off. What you said about GioGio is right. It’s one of the first things he asked me after overtaking Passione.”

Narancia swallows thickly, the silence following your last statement deafeningly loud.

“That being said,” you squeeze his hand then, “I made up my mind. Dreams are fluid, Nara. At least to me. They change shape over time as we grow, experience new things, and meet new people. I don’t want anyone else to experience what I did. By doing some wrong, we can bring about good. I want to keep Passione strong so a worse entity doesn’t take its place.”

You give him a wink. “That means you’re stuck with me.”

To further emphasize the point, you use your Stand’s ability to manifest a ribbon, tying your wrist to his.

“Will that make you happy?” Narancia asks.

“Not always, but life’s about more than being happy,” you reply without hesitation. He can tell you’ve given this some thought, far before he broached the subject. “That’s why we need each other. Gotta keep things bearable, y’know.”

A beat passes. Then he grins, wide enough that it almost hurts, but he pays it no mind. He squeezes your hand back. Sensing his lifted spirits, you mimic his smile, allowing the ribbon to fade away for it served its purpose. You never fail to amaze Narancia with how utterly lovable you are, he swears it’s almost supernatural.

“You’re right. You’re always right, [First].”

At this, you put your hands up, a laugh leaving your lips. “Oh, far from it. Now let’s go get my parents back before the crowd gets any worse.”

Narancia springs into action, the usual pep in his step making a triumphant return.

“If we’re making plans to head to the States, there is one place I really wanna visit.”

You raise an eyebrow as he helps you up. “Oh? And where might that be?”

“The mouse’s home turf. Disneyworld.”

“You know that means we’d have to go to Florida, right?”

“What’s wrong with this ‘Florida’ place?”

You place your hand on his shoulder. “That, my dear Narancia, is a long tale, full of mystery, intrigue, and alligators…”

[orange-imagines]

being best friends with Danny would include:

Relationship: Platonic

A/N: Part 1/3! (I did them all at once so you get three posts in quick succession)

Danny's a great guy to have in your corner. While strangers may see him as cynical and cutthroat, you and the guys get a very different side of him. Although he loves to make fun and will do anything to get a rise out of you, he's also your #1 supporter, always attentive to you needs and changes, always helping you in subtle ways that you may not even notice.

He's on call for you 24/7 if you need him, as much as he may grumble about it the day after if you wake him up in the middle of the night. But genuinely, call him at 3 AM saying you need to talk and he'll be at your place with a drink to share within the hour.

He's such a big verbal communication guy, meaning his favorite thing to do while hanging out with you is talk. It doesn't matter if you take over most of the conversations or if you just want to listen to him rattle on about whatever's on his mind, he has a good time with it.

He also gets a real kick out of joking around with you, either him making fun of you or vice versa, maybe bringing the other Mud Dogs into it, just going on an on with inside jokes the two of you cooked up, etc. Don't tell the others, but you always make him laugh the hardest.

He has a mental list of all your allergies and food preferences that he accesses whenever he cooks for you and the guys. He tries to include everyone's favorites every once in a while, and you're definitely involved in that rotation. Even if he has to go to ungodly lengths to get the proper human ingredients.

Need fashion advice? He's your man. Apart from his weird love of shoulder pads, he's very good at putting outfits together and enjoys getting to help you and give advice regardless of your style. If time and criminal activities allow, he'll totally go shopping with you, hold all your bags, and give his opinions without shame. Don't keep him in any single store for too long though- his wallet will suffer, and he may or may not start judging the other shoppers on their fashion choices. As if he has room to talk.

"Get a load of them. Spots and stripes? Together? Those colors don't even compliment each other." "Oh sorry, I didn't realize your pinstripe suit with shoulder pads big enough to land an airplane on was the height of fashion."

That's the kind of banter he lives for. Although he can go all day when roasting fashion choices back and forth with you, so just be prepared if you choose to go down that route.

He's really good at advice in general, honestly. He's got a lot of life experience under his belt, a good head on his shoulders, and he's the most emotionally maturity out of the three Mud Dogs. Unless he's extremely involved in a situation (and even if he is), odds are he'll be able to give you some good input about whatever it is you're struggling with. Like I said, he's always there to talk if you need him, and oftentimes a judgement free conversation is just what you need to help clear your head. He understands that better than anyone, so he'll brew you a hot drink and listen to you talk for hours as you sit at the kitchen table together while everyone else is asleep.

[goldenblu]

i dont have emojis, so- hurricane, snowflake, raincloud, umbrella? or you can choose only one or two of them if you want

🌀 Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

5 times zoro didn’t know he was flirting with sanji and 1 time he knew

(i do plan on releasing this some day—i’ve got almost 3k written so far—but probably not anytime soon)

❄️ Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

from the fic above ^ :

Zoro thought the whole flower situation was over and done with, but apparently he was mistaken. The cook had presumably seen it when he returned to the ship or maybe when he retired to sleep yesterday night and hadn’t said anything to him about it, so Zoro had assumed that Sanji had accepted the gift junk and presented it to Nami or Robin or whoever. So imagine his surprise when he sees the flower again. With the cook. On the cook, actually. Tucked in his hair.

What.

Zoro’s brain takes a moment to reboot. He blinks, wondering if he’s hallucinating, but nope, it’s still there. Why. When. How. Why, again, for good measure.

Sanji catches him staring—of course he does, they’re literally two feet apart since Zoro had immediately come face-to-face with the cook after exiting the washroom. Because apparently the universe hates him. For some ungodly reason that Zoro can’t fathom, the tips of Sanji’s ears burn a bright red. “What?” he snaps.

Oh god. The cook actually sounds embarrassed.

“Nothing,” Zoro says, because if he says what he’s actually thinking, he’s going to be even more embarrassed than Sanji, if such a thing were possible. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”

🌧️ Share something angsty from your WIP.

ohoho there is so much to choose from

Sanji’s hand clenches in his shirt so hard that he shakes from the strain of it, and then he shoves Zoro against the wall, cabinets clattering open on impact. Zoro allows it to happen, keeping his hands loose and by his sides as Sanji’s forearm presses into his collarbone.

“I hate you so fucking much,” Sanji spits out. He lets go and starts pacing back and forth furiously, steps coming down so hard that Zoro’s surprised that the wood doesn’t splinter under the force of it. His hands fist in his hair. “I asked you for one thing. One fucking thing! I thought I could trust you to do it, but I guess I was wrong about that.”

“I can handle your hate.” If it means that Sanji is still himself, is still feeling and alive, Zoro can handle anything.

Sanji bites out a harsh laugh. “That’s goddamn perfect then.” He whips around, wild, resentful, burning a hole into Zoro’s flesh with the bitterness of his gaze alone. “Because you fucking have it.”

(yes this from hold your fire 😁)

☔ Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

the stealth black sanji au 👀 ive already talked about it at length though so i don’t have anything to add here lol

beyond that, i’ve always liked the hc that sanji attended a reverie as part of the germa delegation when he was young, so an au where vivi recognizes him when they first meet could be interesting. haven’t put too much thought into it though

[littlesparklight]

I love your posts about the Trojan family! Are there any headcanons about them that you could share? (especially Ganymede and his immediate family's era cause I love those ones the most :) )

Hehe, thank you, anon! <3 I love the Trojan family, especially, of course, Ganymede's era and then Priam's one for Paris and Hektor hehe.

And I think I can do that~ I love thinking about the Trojan royal family. :D

Considering you can have basically a nymph wife in every other generation being married to a Trojan king in either branch of the family starting with Astyoche (daughter of Simoeis) marrying Tros' father, the whole family is marked by this connection. I don't really headcanon that mortals being born of nymphs has any physical/visual effects as such on them (I go with nymphs generally just looking like human women), aside from... uh, beauty "infusions"? But that doesn't mean there aren't effects! All of the following would only work in fresh water, not the ocean: -Literally all of them can either keep their breath for extended periods of time, or straight up breathe underwater. -They don't really need to learn how to swim. They might need a refresher a couple years after birth, but that's not really swimming lessons so much as "lead them into the river and let them dog paddle a couple moments, done". -They can see really well underwater, though it's doubtful anyone ever realises this is weird. Unlike being able to stay below for an extended length of time, it's far less easily noticed by others as something off from what they can do.

Xanthos and Simoeis have turned up for each and every birth of their direct or extended grandchildren in Troy or Dardanos. When it comes to Priam's children, this got restricted to those born of Hecuba (but Aesacus also got this 'blessing', since at that point his mother was Priam's primary wife). Aeneas was visited when Aphrodite handed the infant to the nymphs who raised him for his first five years on Ida. Only Paris wasn't visited at his birth - but he has, however (even if he doesn't know that she is his ultimate grandmother) been visited by the goddess-nymph of Mount Ida, Idaea, before he was reunited with his family.

There's a tacit agreement that only one daughter of either Xanthos or Simoeis will marry into the family in each generation (at most). Why it was Assaracus, who isn't the oldest son, instead of Ilus, who got to marry a nymph, is because he was already involved with her before Ilus was looking to marry. He didn't marry before his older brother, but it was obvious he and Hieroneme were going to do so, so Ilus looked elsewhere and married a mortal woman. (Laomedon "makes up" for it by being involved with two daughters of Xanthos lol (possibly three? We don't know who Calybe's father is) One that he married, one that was simply a mutual fling. save yourselves, girls!!! I suppose he has divine dick-skills or something.)

The beauty of nymphs isn't actually where the famed beauty of Troy's royal line stems from! It's undoubtedly why the daughters are beautiful, but as it's especially the sons who are given a certain beauty, it actually comes from Dardanos himself, and thus from Zeus. The first and only time divine-like beauty was conferred on one of the demigod sons of Zeus, and it uh, had effects, as we know.

I feel like Xanthos gifted Erichthonios his first mares (maybe as a wedding gift?), and this is where the whole ~horse connection comes from; the herd grew ungodly fast and Boreas, uh, taking an interest, meant the horses descended from those were particularly fine and could fetch some great prices when sold/or favour and prestige when gifted.

Ganymede kept up with his brothers and sisters' lives. He might only have ended up visiting Troy when his father died, but he was well aware of what was happening. Basically, he had a sort of long-distance relationship to his family, even if it was sort of one-sided, but it kept a connection up for him, which was important! It let him still feel involved.

Like I've mentioned before, I don't go with Tros' son Ilus founding Troy, because I lean more into the real world here. What I do, instead, is have Dardanos' son, the first Ilus, help extend and build up the already extant settlement into something greater, and it keeps building from there. Ganymede's brother Ilus merely becomes one of the greatest Trojan kings and does a lot for the city, etc. I headcanon he built a new shrine/temple to Athena for both her and the Palladium (and that the cow omen mentioned in Apollodorus has to do where to put said temple, not the city as a whole).

I originally headcanoned Kallirhoe dying with her husband, and obviously this still applies for my fic-verse. But it's also just annoying when most of what I see is how alone and depressed and without family connections Ganymede is, so I also definitely very much like the idea of Kallirhoe living quite a long time afterwards, and that she becomes one of his main familial connections alongside Xanthos, now that she's back within the divine sphere.

I headcanon the Palladium is tied to the Trojan royal bloodline specifically, through Elektra. I basically go with that it was given to her directly, and then handed on to Dardanos as he left Samothrace. (Blending a scholia and a 4th century CE source.) It does have a protective effect even in Rome, but as the blood connection to the royal family (via Aeneas and thus later the gens Julia) is extremely thin at that point, it's not at all a very strong protection.

Green is the eye colour for fresh-water nymphs! (Blue for ocean-connected ones.) Which means the whole Trojan royal family have green eyes in various shades and degree, and it is always very bright and intense colour. Around the generation of Priam's children hazel has become more usual, but even then the green element is very obvious and still more-than-mortal intense/bright.

Xanthos and Simoeis tacitly agree not to marry any of their daughters into Priam/Anchises' generation (or the one after), exactly because they can tell something is coming. It's nothing against the family suddenly, in fact especially Xanthos becomes more actively protective, but they don't want to tie any of their daughters into what might be tragedy. (It becomes far more of a tragedy than they'd assumed, however, which both affirms their choice but also horrifies them both.)

[kaycode1999]

hey!! Ik you’re probs a bit busy w these so no rush, but I’d like to request a match up for either mha or kny. My pronouns are she/her and I’m a female, either gender is fine by me!

For personality, Im have the ISFP type. I’m quite introverted, I hate speaking to strangers, or people in general. Crowds kinda scare me as well. I’m pretty shy and meeting new people is especially difficult for me. Im pretty funny (not my own words) and I love to draw, read, write, or anything with creativity tbh. I’m practically married to my Spotify, there’s barely any time you won’t see me without headphones. I get decent grades, but I do tend to get distracted very easily and I zone out a ton! I’m pretty outgoing once you get to know me, and I’m definitely a bit touch and attention starved. My aesthetic is sorta tomboyish ig. I’ve been told multiple times that I dress like I’m homeless lol. My favourite colour is navy blue.i hardly ever wear make up also, I’m just too lazy

I have shoulder length hair that’s sooo thick. It takes forever to brush and I can’t even shower properly w it. I like to dye my hair, and right now it’s purple at the ends with my natural roots (brown). My favourite season is fall just bc where I am we get stormy autumn’s, and I LOVE stormy weather. I usually go outside when it’s raining as well, I adore it.id definitely consider myself an insomniac as well, staying up to ungodly hours of the morning on the days before tests has proven that. It’s nonstop, I can’t remember a single night I went to bed before midnight. This means I also have hella dark under eyes 😭

thx for taking the time to look at this!

(also sry for the bad set up of the request, I rambled)

Demon Slayer/ Kimetsu no Yaiba

I match you with

Mitsuri Kanroji

Mitsuri can be nervous around crowds or people she doesn't know too, or at least she was. I know I saw either a fanart or a manga panel of her hiding in Rengoku’s haori somewhere and it was adorable. So she understands

I think she's gotten more comfortable and able to handle dealing with strangers better now, so she'll take the lead and keep the pressure off of you

She loves your humor and thinks you're hilarious

I think she's creative too, but of your interests she probably shares reading the most

She will give you all the affection you want😂 she's a sweetheart like that

She's not the kind to mind if you don't wear makeup or if dress “tomboyish” she just loves you for you

She'll love to help you take care of your hair, she knows a few things from taking care of her own long thick hair

She's has to stay up all night dealing with demons a lot herself, so she might be up to be there with you anyway

My Hero Academia

I match you with

Dabi/ Touya Todoroki

By nature he's pretty introverted and does not socialize…. Like at all

Your humor was surprising to him, as in he didn't really have anything to genuinely laugh about before you. Now he laughs all the time because of you. *its a small chuckle or maybe even a smirk/smile but a win is a win*

He's more destructive in nature, not creative, but I think over time your creativity rubs off on him

He's attention and affection starved too, unfortunately that means that at first he isn't used to it. But eventually you both get comfortable with each other and giving and receiving affection

He dresses a lot like you so win-win, you get to swap clothes

We've all seen the jokes about him being a hairstylist correct?😂 It would be in a different way than he normally does *through fire* but he would help you with your hair too. He really likes you're colorful hair

He likes rainy/stormy weather as well, so if you go out in it he will definitely join you

Does he ever sleep anyway?😭😭 He’ll more than likely be up along with you

But you guys can have your own special thing when that happens like playing cards or going for walks. Nice quality time

I truly believe Dabi could be good if given the love and affection he deserves so being with you just automatically makes him better