#Oh crap I have to tag them all… and then again

[nai418]

Punch Out Splat doodles… yea

[darlingdaisyfarm]

a small gift

tags: Stan x fem!reader x Ford, birthday, humour, fluff, just had to write this wholesome little fic for them because they deserve to be happy, singing, awkward Ford, sfw, inspired by Lana del Rey song

Stanley Pines leaned back in his old armchair, glancing at the calendar on the wall. His eyes landed on the circled date — June 15th, their birthday. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought of his brother, hunched over his never-ending stack of research papers, buried in his makeshift lab. Typical Ford. Always with his nose deep in some crackpot science theory, instead of, you know, enjoying life.

"Yeah, no way I’m lettin’ him get away with that this year." Stan muttered to himself. This time, he thought, Ford’s gonna get outta his damn cave and actually have some fun for once.

Stanley strode towards the stairs, stopping at the basement door. He gave it a sharp, rhythmic knock. "Hey, Poindexter! You better not be down there doin’ more of your ‘save-the-universe’ mumbo jumbo! It’s our birthday, ya know!"

There was a brief pause before a muffled voice responded. "Yes, Stanley, I’m fully aware of the date. Just let me finish these calculations—"

"Calculations, schmalkulations! You been finishin’ calculations for forty years, Ford. Trust me, that last decimal point ain’t gonna make a difference to the end of the world or whatever. Now c’mon!" Stan rapped the door again, growing impatient. "I got somethin’ special planned for us tonight. And don’t even try pullin’ that ‘I’m busy’ crap on me this time!"

Ford’s face appeared at the door, peeking through his glasses, which were just a little too smudged from the constant tinkering. "Stanley, I’ve told you, I’m close to a major breakthrough with this—"

“Yeah, yeah, ‘major breakthrough,’ like I haven’t heard that one before." Stan cut him off, grinning as he leaned against the doorframe. "Newsflash, nerd, we ain’t gettin’ any younger, and you’ve barely stepped foot outside since you got back from that other dimension. So, guess what? I’m takin’ ya out tonight!"

Ford frowned. "Out? To where exactly?"

Stan waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, you’ll see. Let’s just say it ain’t the library."

Ford looked at his brother with disbelief. "Stanley, I have absolutely no interest in your usual haunts, whatever dive bar or—"

"Whoa, whoa, slow your roll, Stanford! It’s our birthday! You’re actin’ like I’m draggin’ ya to a strip club or somethin’." Stanley chuckled, already imagining Ford’s awkward reaction if that was the plan. He slapped a hand on Ford’s shoulder. "Nah, I’m takin’ ya to a place with some class. . . and somethin' that'll remind ya why the real world’s worth livin' in, instead of buryin’ your head in books all the time."

Ford adjusted his glasses, still hesitant. "Stanley, I really don’t think—"

“Ah, save it! It's out of the question, buddy, tonight’s gonna be a birthday to remember! Trust me." he turned, heading towards the door, already sensing his twin following behind reluctantly. "And don’t forget, you owe me for all the times I’ve bailed your six-fingered butt outta danger! So, tonight, you’re gonna relax, have a drink, and maybe even talk to someone who ain’t made of equations or alien technology."

***

Stan grinned smugly as looked at Ford’s face. Neon signs flashed ahead, but this wasn’t one of those rough, rundown places Ford hated. It was something fancier. Classier, at least by Stan’s standards. From the open door came the low hum of jazz, mixed with the clink of glasses and soft chatter.

Stan slapped Ford on the back, ushering him forward. "Don’t make that face, Ford It’s nothin’ crazy, but it’s got live music, good drinks and a whole lotta people who don’t speak in alien gibberish. It’s a start, huh?"

Ford blinked, looking genuinely surprised for once. "This. . . isn’t what I expected."

"Yeah, I bet it ain’t!" Stan chuckled. "thought I was gonna take ya to some cabaret joint, didn’t ya?"

Ford didn’t respond, but his silence said enough.

“Look, Ford, I know you’re allergic to fun, but tonight’s our night. No weird science, no alternate dimensions. Just you, me, and a stiff drink. Let’s enjoy it while we can, alright?"

Ford hesitated, looking at the customers sitting at candlelit tables with soft jazz swirling around them. He slowly nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, but only because you’re my brother."

Stan clapped his hands together, beaming. "That’s the spirit! Now, come on, let’s get some drinks in us. You might even get lucky and find someone who actually understands all that nerdy crap you talk about."

Ford smirked, adjusting his coat. "I highly doubt that, Stanley."

Stan winked. "Well, let’s hope so, Sixer. Let’s hope so."

Stan and Ford made their way deeper, the soft jazz filled their ears. The place was packed, but not in an overwhelming way. Couples sat at small round tables, sipping drinks, while a few loners nursed their glasses at the bar, heads swaying to the music.

Stan led Ford to an empty table in the corner, claiming it like he’d been there a hundred times before. He slid into his seat with a satisfied grunt, slapping the table lightly with the palm of his hand. "Alright, Poindexter, sit your six-fingered butt down. I’ll go grab us a couple drinks."

Ford eyed people with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort, still adjusting to the unfamiliar scene, a little anxiety crept into his head. "Stanley, I really don’t think this is—"

"Ah, none of that thinkin' stuff tonight, Ford. You’ve done enough of that for ten lifetimes." Stan got up, heading for the bar with a mischievous grin. "Just sit back and let me handle the drinks. Somethin’ a little more exciting than your usual black coffee or whatever sludge you drink."

Stanford couldn’t help but observe the people around him. They were just different. Lively. Engaged in conversation. Present. It was strange to him—an entire room full of people who weren’t obsessed with solving the mysteries of the universe. They were just living. He sighed, running a hand through his graying hair.

Stan returned a few minutes later, balancing two glasses of amber-colored liquid. He slid one across the table to Ford with a satisfied smirk. "There ya go. Whiskey. Nothin’ fancy, but it’ll do the trick."

Ford picked up the glass, inspecting it with confused face. "Stanley, you know I’m not much of a drinker—"

“Yeah, well, tonight you are." Stan raised his own glass in a toast. "To another year of not gettin’ ourselves killed, huh? And maybe to you actually takin' a break from savin’ the world for once."

Ford hesitated, then clinked his glass against Stan’s and finally smile appeared on his face. "Alright, to surviving another year."

They both took a sip, though Stanford immediately winced, the burn of the whiskey stronger than he’d expected. Stan, on the other hand, downed half of his glass in one go, letting out a contented sigh.

"Ahh, now that’s the good stuff, that's what I call life." Stan leaned back in his seat, eyeing his brother with a knowing smile. "So, how’s it feel to be out in the real world again, Poindexter? A little better than starin’ at equations all night, huh?"

Ford looked around again, enjoying the warm golden glow of the place. It was nice, he had to admit. The music, the atmosphere. . . it was different from his usual solitude. "It’s certainly a change of pace," he said, chuckling softly.

Stan smiled, shaking his head. "I swear, Ford, you could be sittin’ in a room full of clowns on fire and you’d still be playin’ it cool."

"I’ve seen stranger things, Stanley."

"Yeah, yeah, I bet you have. But look around!" Stan waved a hand at the room. "All these people? They’re just livin’ life. No wormholes, no time anomalies. Just fun, just drinks and music. And trust me, you could use a little more of that."

Ford stared into his drink, swirling the liquid around before taking another small sip. "You’re probably right," he admitted, though his tone was still a little stiff. "It’s just difficult to switch off sometimes. My work, it—"

“Your work ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re always gonna have some world-endin’ thing to worry about. But that don’t mean you gotta shut yourself off from everything else." he leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. "I mean, you spent thirty years away from here, Ford. I’m just tryin’ to make sure you don’t spend the next 30 stuck in your own head."

Ford was quiet for a moment, listening to his brother’s words. He knew his brother was right. As much as he valued his research, his wish to understand the universe, he had to admit—there was something refreshing about being out here. With real people. But much better, with his family. With Stan.

Stanley must have noticed the gears turning in Ford's head, because he suddenly slammed on the table, breaking the silence. "Alright, enough of this sappy crap! Let’s get you another drink and maybe we’ll even see if there’s a lady in here who’s crazy enough to listen to you talk about multiverses for more than five minutes."

Ford nearly choked on his whiskey. "Stanley, I’m not here to—"

"Ah, come on! It’s your birthday too, ya know. And don’t pretend you ain’t lonely down in that lab of yours. I saw the way you looked at those nachos. Pretty sad, Poindexter. And frankly, disappointing.”

Ford thought he was imagining it. “I didn’t—“

***

Their evening was going great. Stan entertained himself by cracking jokes at the expense of the room’s more eccentric patrons, while Ford watched, occasionally interjecting with his dry wit. They argued about everything from the proper way to run a business to the existence of life on other planets.

Stan leaned back in his seat, nursing his third glass of whiskey, and let out a long, satisfied sigh. "Y’know, I gotta admit, It’s good havin’ ya back."

Ford looked at his brother and a genuine warmth was reflected on his face."It’s good to be back, Stanley."

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything because they simply didn’t have to. The jazz band played on and the low murmur of the bar filled the silence between them.

Then, just as the moment threatened to get too sentimental, Stan ruined it in classic Stan style.

"Now, let’s see if we can’t find you a nice gal who can keep up with all that crazy stuff in your head."

Ford groaned, rubbing his temple. "Stanley. . .”

Just as Stan was about to say something to embarrass Ford once more, the lights in the room dimmed slightly, drawing everyone’s attention toward the small stage at the center of the club. A soft spotlight illuminated the area, casting a golden glow over a lone figure standing in front of a vintage microphone. There you were,breathtaking, wrapped in a dark red dress that shimmered in the light like velvet. The fabric hugged your form perfectly, falling to the floor in gentle waves that wrapped around your legs. A high slit revealed a teasing glimpse of your leg as you stood with one hand resting lightly on the microphone stand.

The dress was luxurious, dark crimson in color, like wine aged in the shade. It clung to you in all the right ways, that made you look like something out of a classic movie, a femme fatale come to life. There was something called old-Hollywood glamour about you.

You scanned the audience, searching for faces in the dimly lit room, but two figures near the front caught your attention. Mysterious twins, two men, were both staring straight at you. Their eyes widened, and in unison, as if connected by the same thought, they spoke under their breath.

“Wow.”

But Stan continued. "Well, I’ll be damned. Now that’s somethin’ you don’t see every day."

Your lips curved into a small smile as you began to sing, letting your voice fill the room and as you sang, their attention never wavered.

"I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now,

Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now,”

Stan couldn’t stop admiring, resting his arms on the table, his grin spreading wider with every passing second. “Well, look at this. Ain’t she somethin’,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. He tipped his head slightly in your direction, his eyes trailing the line of your dress. “Charming girl, isn't she, Ford?”

Stanford sat frozen, his eyes never leaving you, completely entranced by the way you moved, by your voice, dress, face, by everything. He swallowed hard, shifting awkwardly in his seat, his mind racing but his body still, as if locked in place.

“You hearin’ that, Ford?" Stan nudged his brother without taking his eyes off you. "That voice. Like honey, huh? Bet she’s got every poor guy in here wrapped around her finger."

Ford finally said something. “She’s. . . remarkable.” he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Stan, of course, couldn’t let it go. “Remarkable?” he gave a short laugh. “C’mon, Poindexter. Don’t be shy. You can’t tell me you’re not feelin' that.”

You let the lyrics spill from your lips, your voice rising with the music. “Hot summer nights, mid-July, When you and I were forever wild,”

As you sang, your gaze drifted back to them, and you caught Ford, he stared at you dumbfounded, biting his lip. God, he was flushed, was it really that stuffy here? His fingers tapped lightly on the table. He was hooked and he didn’t even realize how obvious it was.

Stan, on the other hand, couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Just look at that,” he said, shaking his head in admiration. “This girl’s got it, yeah? Ain’t often you see a performer like that. It’s the whole package - looks, voice, everything.”

But Ford’s compliments weren’t loud, weren’t teased out like Stan’s, but they were there, written all over his red face. The way his brow furrowed slightly, the way his lips parted just a bit when you hit a particularly emotional note, it was clear that he was just as captivated, if not more so, than Stan.

"I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will, Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?" as you hit that line, your gaze settled squarely on them, locking eyes with both brothers, one after the other.

“Now that’s a question, huh?” Stan said with a smirk, leaning closer to Ford. “You think she’s askin' us that? 'cause, uh, if so, I ain’t complainin'.”

Ford’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes fixed on you. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t.

You moved into the next verse.

"I've seen the world, lit it up as my stage now, Channeling angels in the new age now,” you didn't just perform, you lived every note, every lyric.

“Look at ya, Poindexter. You're sittin' there like a deer in headlights. Ain't you ever seen a girl before?" he chuckled under his breath, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Hell, you’ve seen aliens, damn demonic triangle! this should be easy for you.”

Ford tried to hide it, to look anywhere but at you, but useless, his gaze kept drifting back. He was still speechless, lost in your performance.

Then came the line that took both twins' breath away.

“Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven Please let me bring my man,”

Here, the crowd melted away. It's just you, the music and these two mysterious men. Your voice softened, and you sang with all your heart, with all your soul and love. You looked directly at them, first at Stan, whose grin widened even more, then at Ford, whose breath caught in his throat. You held both their gazes and you smiled at them. It was playful, teasing, what made both brothers mutter another “wow” at same time.

Stan almost spilled whiskey on himself.  “Well, darlin’, I sure as hell hope they’re lettin’ me in, ‘cause if you’re up there, I’m signin’ up early.”

But Ford still couldn’t find his voice. He tried, opened his mouth, closed it again, then opened it again. You had him completely disarmed, and he didn’t know how to handle it. As you continued to sing, you knew their attention locked on you. Stan’s gaze was open, unashamed, drinking you in with every word, while Ford’s was more cautious, but no less intense. They were both falling and you could see it plain as day.

Ford glanced at Stan, then back at you, clearly wrestling with himself. He finally managed to speak, but his voice sounded shaky. “She. . . she has a beautiful voice.”

“A voice? Told ya, she got the whole damn package, Ford! Look at her!”

You smiled, even if you didn't hear what they were talking about as the song drew to a close. You hit the final note, letting it linger in the air, and when the applause came, it felt like a distant sound compared to the connection you’d felt with them, both of them.

The stage lights dimmed as you walked off, your dress sweeping behind you like a crimson river. The applause rang out across the room and you slipped behind the curtain, disappearing from view. Back at the table, Stan and Ford sat frozen, their eyes still locked on the now-empty stage.

Stan was the first to speak, his usual swagger returning full force. “Well, that was somethin’. Hell, she practically dedicated that song to me.” he smirked, tapping his fingers on the table in satisfaction. “She’s got good taste, I’ll give her that.”

Ford shot him a side glance, his expression annoyed a bit. “Stanley, she doesn’t even know you,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Calm down.”

“You jealous? ‘cause I’m pretty sure she was lookin' right at me when she sang that whole ‘Dear Lord’ line.”

Ford stiffened. “I’m not,” he replied quickly. “I’m just pointing out the facts.”

“Sure, sure. No need to get worked up, Ford.” Stan laughed, watching his brother’s obvious discomfort. “Looks like she’s got both of us good, huh? don’t you worry, Poindexter, I’ll let you have a shot. Maybe.”

Ford muttered something under his breath, avoiding Stan’s teasing gaze. He couldn’t shake the image of you, standing there in that dress, your charming voice echoing in his mind. It was magnetic. He wasn’t one to get distracted by things like this, but something about you had hit him hard. Harder than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

Stan, meanwhile, was already planning his next move. He stood up, all cocky swagger again. “Alright, Ford, let’s go. We’re meetin' her.”

Ford blinked in shock. ���Wait— what?”

“You heard me!” Stan’s grin was all confidence. “we’re gonna find her dressing room. Gotta congratulate the girl on a performance like that, right? Besides,” he added with a wink, “she might want a closer look at the Stanley Pines himself.”

Ford shook his head, already regretting this, but deep down, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to see you again. “This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? Nah. It’s genius.” Stan patted Ford on the back as they made their way toward the backstage area. “C’mon, Ford, live a little. Believe me, she’ll be all over us. And hey, if you get nervous, just let ol’ Stan handle it. I’m great with the ladies, y’know.”

Ford sighed, not bothering to respond. His heart was already racing in his chest, his mind replaying the song over and over.

And then they reached the dressing room.

Stan took a deep breath. “Alright, here we go. Follow my lead.”

He knocked on the door and then there was a moment of silence before it slowly creaked open. You stood in the doorway, your stage dress still clinging to your figure.

For a second, neither of them said anything. Stanley suddenly found himself at a loss for words, his usual cocky grin faltering. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His mind scrambled for something to say, but all he could think about was how stunning you looked up close.

Ford, standing behind him, wasn’t much better too. His eyes met yours, which took his breath away. Every thought he had prepared vanished the moment he saw you again. Oh god.

You looked at them a bit confused, but tried to hide it with curious smile. “Can I help you?”

Stan blinked, finally snapping out of it. “Uh— yeah, we— uh, just wanted to say,“ he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “That was, umm, one hell of a performance!”

Ford nodded. “Yes, it was really beautiful.”

Stan gave him a quick glance, then forced a grin, trying to recover his usual confidence. “Yeah, what he said. You were amazin’. Best thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

Ford shot him a glare, but said nothing, still too flustered to form a coherent sentence.

You raised an eyebrow, amused by their obvious struggle to compose themselves. “Thank you,” you said softly, stepping aside to let them in. “I didn’t expect to have such enthusiastic admirers.”

Stan’s grin returned, a little more confident this time. “Well, y’know, when a girl sings like that, it’s hard not to be impressed.” he winked, but it was so obvious he wasn’t as sure of himself as usual.

The room felt smaller now, air not enough, the three of you standing in this intimate space and this damn silence isn’t making it any better. Stan shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling strangely out of place for the first time in decades. Hell, they were both pushing sixty, damn sixty, and yet, standing here in front of you, they felt like awkward teenagers all over again.

Stan glanced at Ford, mentally asking for support, but his twin looked equally as lost.

For all the things they had seen and done over the years, monsters, mysteries, the paranormal, nothing had prepared them for you.

Surprisingly, Ford spoke up. “What we meant to say is—” he paused, realizing he was rambling, and cleared his throat again. “It’s rare to find someone with such talent. And, um, charisma.”

Stan nodded. “Ya know, we’re not exactly the youngest guys in the room, but damn, if you didn’t make us feel like a couple of teenagers again.” he chuckled awkwardly. “Never thought I’d be this tongue-tied at my age, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at their awkward flirts, it was clear they were both trying hard to impress you, even if they were struggling to find the right words. “You guys really don’t have to flatter me like that,” you said, feeling your cheeks turning a little bit red. “but I appreciate it.”

Stan looked at his brother and then at you. “See? Even Poindexter here’s smitten,” he teased. Ford flushed, shooting his brother a glare, but didn’t protest. If he was being honest, he couldn’t deny it. Being around you, he felt awkward and unsure.

You took a step closer, smiling gently as you regarded them both. “You two are adorable, you know that?”

After that, the room felt lighter now, like the tension had eased into something more comfortable. Stan and Ford, for all their differences, were in this moment, together, both stunned by you, equally out of their element, but somehow, that was okay. You had them both wrapped around your finger without even trying.

Then Stan leaned closer to you, whispering. “If anything, choose me, not this weirdo, he has a fetish for triangles.”

[lance-thunder-reporting-live]

Hi, it’s Danny Phantom again, not Lance Thunder. Sorry, it looks like some ghosts are taking a while to come back. But I’m here, So that’s something.

So yeah, only one ghost attack today so far. Which is so weird, like usually there’s like fifteen of them or so. But you guys wouldn’t know that since I get them all before you realize they’re there. The Red Huntress too I guess, she’s pretty good at ghost hunting too.

This ghost was kinda weird though, like, he was screaming about ‘all y’all city slickers don’t know shi- uh, crap about how to live yer life,’ and how we’re ‘too dependent on all them newfangled machines.’

And so I was like, ‘shut up, machines are good and helpful and all that,’ and he did something weird to all the tech around us and made it start attacking me and I was like ‘I thought you didn’t like technology?’ And he was like ‘I don’t.’

So anyway, he’s in a thermos. The computer lab is wrecked though. The Casper High one.

So I guess the computer related classes will be cancelled til further notice? Or maybe they’ll get new computers or something. I’m not sure.

And for the news, let’s see, oh! The arcade on seventh street just finished building their lazer tag area! It has three levels! It’s so cool and everyone should definitely go play lazer tag.

And to everyone saying that I have a crush on Danny Fenton, you are wrong and I am shocked and appalled that you would think that I had a crush on him. Not because he’s not cool or anything because he’s very cool and awesome, and there’s nothing wrong with having a crush on him in any way, but I don’t. Have a crush on him, that is.

You can appreciate somebody’s many many great attributes without having a crush, people do it all the time. You guys are the weird ones for like, saying that I like him like that. Not because a guy liking guys is weird, because it isn’t. I figured out that like, a whole year ago, but still.

Yeah I’m just gonna turn this thing off. Where’s the butto-

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 17

dirty talk - miya atsumu x reader

word count: 583

kinktober masterlist

Everyone in Atsumu’s life knew he had a big mouth. He was the guy who didn’t know when to shut up. And it annoyed the crap out of everyone. His friends, his teammates, his twin brother. However, you had never once complained about it.

When you first said you didn’t really mind Atsumu’s lack of filter, everyone was rightfully shocked. Osamu had questioned you on multiple occasions about it (“how do you fight the urge to just deck him across the face?”) and Suna had straight up declared you a psycho (he was being dramatic, of course). You had a feeling that if they knew exactly why you loved Atsumu running his mouth, they would never look at you the same.

You looked on at your boyfriend right now, eyes shining with adoration and pure lust as you watched him fall apart at the feeling of your pussy clinging to his cock in a death grip.

“H-ha~” Atsumu’s moan was high and broken, his hair disheveled and matted to his forehead by sweat, red flush covering his cheeks, his neck, all the way down to his bare chest. His arms flexed when he gripped your thighs hard, pushing them further up to rest on either sides of your torso, bending you in half. You sighed when it made his dick hit deeper in you, and Atsumu cursed.

“B-baby, fuck.” His voice sounded so wrecked, you were sure you could cum just from that. “Pumped ya full of loads of cum and yer still tight as hell. God, yer so perfect. Pussy made just fer me, yeah?”

You moaned at the words and nodded furiously, the slow slide of his cock growing torturous. He was throbbing inside you, balls tight and ready for him to cum again. Your pelvis was covered in your own juices and his cum, your legs wobbling and shaking in his hold. Your core was tingling with overstimulation, but you wanted more, more, more.

“Tsumu.” you gasped, trying to convey to him what you needed. Your tear filled eyes saw his own face stretch with a wide smirk.

“Whatcha want? Another load? Ya want more cum?” His voice dropped low, eyes like molten earth, burning into you. He leaned over you, resting his weight on you, before he pulled back to slam his hips down hard against you. You yelped when he hit your sweet spot.

“You greedy slut. How much more ya want? Yer spillin all over the place. Can’t even hold this much cum in ya. But ya still want it. Fine, then. Princess gets what princess wants.”

And there was his mouth, running and running, words getting filthier and filthier, slurring together as he picked up the pace. His thrusts were getting more and more sloppy, quicker, desperate. You could feel, for the thousandth time, the knot in your lower stomach tightening. You were so close.

“Make a mess on me, baby. C’mon. Need ta feel ya gush all over me. I know you have it in ya. I know what this sweet pussy can give me. Ya want my cum? Gimme yer cum first, sweetheart. C’mon. Milk my cock-”

And you toppled over the edge, feeling more and more wetness coat your thighs and his hips, babbling nonsensical words while Atsumu talked about how good you looked and how fucking amazing it feels and oh god, he was gonna cum too….

Miya Atsumu’s big mouth came in handy sometimes. The people in his life just didn’t know that.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[tune-on-in-folks]

Day 10! This prompt is CNC/Dub-Con/Non-con, so sensitive topic. Vox doesn't explicitly ask for Reader's permission.

I struggled with this prompt, but hey I did write something!

Tags/Warnings: CNC, dub-con, non-con, top Vox, desk sex, fingering, p in v sex, fem!reader Word Count: 2,060

There was a long list of reasons why Vox could be upset. From Alastor to Valentino, to something not going as planned. You were used to Vox’s volatile moods, watching him swing from one to the next. He could go from berating the incompetence of a lowly worker, threatening them with being Valentino’s target practice, one minute; To charming the public with his suave personality and handsome smile, in the next. It was enough to give you whiplash.

Luckily for you, you had never been on the receiving end of his frustrations. You were careful, almost to an anxious degree. You ensured that everything you presented Vox with was top notch, not a word mistyped, or a single smudge of ink. In turn you never got yelled at or talked down to. Which was nice…You adored your boss, admired him. Wanted to stay on his good side, and the occasional wet dream of him was something you ignored. After all, it was Vox, who hadn’t fantasized about him?

Unfortunately today, you were a mess, distracted and bumbling. Everything seemed to be going wrong, but that was okay, you could handle it with grace. What you couldn't handle was the fact that your incompetence was directly affecting your boss. Enough so, that he personally came to your office to demand an explanation.

The door opened, catching your attention as you tried to get your computer to stop freaking out.

“One moment!” You call, muttering curses under your breath about the incompetence of your VoxTek issued laptop.

You hadn't realized that it was your boss who had entered, or you would have dropped your task immediately. And you certainly would not have been cursing out the computer he had designed.

“Stupid piece of shit!” You curse loudly, slamming the laptop shut.

This brought you face to face with Vox who quirked an unamused eyebrow at your outburst. You felt the blood drain from your face.

“Oh. Um, S-sir! What can I help you with?” You stammer, aware of how unprofessional your display was.

He held up the report you had sent up an hour ago. “What is this crap?” He asks, sounding exasperated.

You blink, your heart dropping at the sight of it. “I..ah, well it's my latest report.”

“Uh-huh.” He prompts, “and it's utter crap. So you should?”

You swallow. “Rewrite it, I know.”

You opened your laptop back up, pressing the power button. Only for it not to power on. You held the button down again, a groan of frustration slipping from you.

“And I would, if my computer didn't just fucking die on me.” You sigh, gently closing it as you meet Vox's gaze again. “I'm sorry, Sir.”

He clicks his tongue, entering into your office further, slamming the report down on your desk. “Unfortunately, sorry isn't going to cut it, Dollface. Your report was lackluster, forcing me to improvise in a very important meeting.”

You swallow nervously, anxiety blooming in your chest. You open your mouth to apologize again, but Vox quickly grabs hold of your chin, closing your mouth.

“You’re going to make this up to me, got it? And if I hear another “I’m sorry” from you, I'll make sure that your mouth is put to better use.”

You swallow hard, blush settling on your face at his words. You could only imagine what he had meant with his threat. 

“I-I'm sorry?” You ask, wanting clarification, not for one second interpreting that the words were also another apology. 

At the quirk of his eyebrow you realize what you'd said, “Shit! I mean- fuck! Clarify?”

He chuckles darkly, standing up to his full towering height. Vox comes around your desk, pulling you up from your chair.

“I mean…that I will fuck that pretty little mouth of yours if you apologize one more time.”

Your face flushed with even more heat, you had thought that was what he meant, but to hear him actually say it? A slight amount of panic ran through you, tinged with a warmth that settled in your core. “I uh…didn't mean to say it again.”

“I'm sure you didn't.” Vox muses, a wicked glint in his eyes. “But you still need to pay for your report… and a new computer.”

“A new computer?” You echo softly, brows furrowed in confusion.

You watch as Vox turns to your desk, sweeping everything off, including your laptop.

“Vox!” You yell in surprise, gasping as he grabs your hand.

He pulls you to him, bending you over your desk and pulling up your skirt. Your eyes widen with panic as you try to sit up, only for him to press you back down. His hand trails up the back of your thigh to your panties, the sensation causing you to shiver.

“Lucky for you, I’ll let that last apology slide.” He says softly, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties.

“S-sir?” You ask hesitantly, trepidation in your voice, mixing with arousal. “What are you doing?”

Vox presses his chest against your back, sliding your panties down your legs. “I’m collecting my dues. Now, say my name again, doll. I want to hear you say it.”

You take a deep breath, your voice wavering. “V-Vox.” 

Why were you following his commands? He hadn’t asked your permission one bit, taking advantage of you.

“Atta girl.” He chuckles, his fingers finding your clit.

You gasp at the contact, a moan spilling from your lips as he rubs tight circles into the sensitive nub. You weren't doing anything to stop him, you wondered if you wanted to stop him. You bite your bottom lip, hands coming to grasp the edge of the desk as he slipped two fingers inside your sopping cunt. You cried out at the sensation, your eyes fluttering as he began to finger you. You knew if you wanted to stop him you would have, and you truly didn’t want him to stop. Your body betrayed your arousal, showing Vox just how much you wanted him to keep going.

“So wet for me.” His voice is full of lust and desire. “you know it's taken everything in me to wait to fuck you? Unfortunately, I can't wait anymore, babydoll.”

You whine, rolling your hips back against his fingers “W-what?” You ask, confusion biting through your arousal.

You never thought any of your fantasies about Vox would come to light. Yet here you were, pressed against your own desk, getting fingered by him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop, to point out that he was your boss. That he shouldn’t be doing this.

He speeds up his pace, the wet sounds of your cunt filling the air. “I've seen the way you look at me, doll. And I won't deny that I've thought about it. Thought about you.”

Your walls clench around his fingers, your eyes shutting tight. You hear the clinking of his belt behind him, the unzipping of his pants. You moan softly, trying to keep quiet. He was really going to fuck you, you realize. The thought sends a thrill through you, the idea of him fucking you just made you more aroused.

“Vox.” You moan, breath coming in short gasps.

“That’s right babydoll, say my name. I love when you say my name, it makes me so hard.” He murmurs, his voice right in your ear.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, not having expected those words to turn you on as much as they did.

“Let go for me doll, cum for me.”

You whine at his words, your release sneaking up on you. You moan loudly, cumming around his fingers. When your walls stopped twitching, he pulled his fingers from you. You were left feeling empty, wanting.

“Please.” You whimper, feeling his cock-head pressing against your entrance a moment later.

Vox hums, his hands grasping your hips as he runs his cock through your slick, “Please?” He asks, “Please what?”

“Fuck…” You whine, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Please-”

He thrust forward, his cock sliding half-way inside you, your own moans cutting you off from whatever you were going to say. He watches you as he begins to press the rest of his cock inside you. You whimper, your body trying to pull away from him with how deep he pressed inside you. He felt big, impossibly big.

“Too much.” You gasp, trying and failing to pull away from him. “Vox, you’re too big!”

He chuckles darkly, “Oh darling, I’m perfectly proportioned.”

He thrust forward again, his cock-head pressing against your cervix, causing you to cry out.

“And you will take all of me.” He whispers, pressing further in until you feel like you can’t take anything more.

Vox groans, his face pressing against your shoulder as he bottoms out. He begins to pull from your weeping cunt slowly, until just the head of his cock was inside you. Vox thrust forward, snapping his hips back into you. You gasp, the pain from his thrust blooming into pleasure. He felt too big and not big enough all at once. Everytime he pulled from your cunt you missed the feeling of him being buried inside you. But when he was inside you, it felt like too much. Vox shifted slightly, angling his cock deeper as he began to pick up his pace. Your office was filled with the obscene noises of him fucking you, hard and fast. You were faintly aware that anyone passing by would be able to hear.

“Vox!” You moan, his hips slapping against your bare ass. “Oh, fuck…”

One of his hands moves from your hip, slipping down to rub at your clit. “Fuck you feel sinful, so tight and perfect, like this cunt was made for me.” He mutters. 

Your body shuddered with the pure pleasure you were feeling. Every sharp snap of his hips planted seeds of pain that quickly bloomed into pure pleasure. His finger rubbing small, fast circles around your clit had your walls squeezing his cock in a vice-like grip. You were so close to your release, it was almost painful.

“Fucck!” Vox gasped, his voice glitching as he pressed into you, past your fluttering muscles. “Cum for me, babydoll, let me feel you cum around my cock.”

You moan, a second release crashing over your body for him. It was like your body was his at this point, following his every command without hesitation. Vox’s pace faltered, his breaths coming heavier.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum inside your tight little pussy, fill you up.” He growled, “Make you mine.”

You couldn’t do much else but whimper, your body on fire with how sensitive you were. Vox managed only a few more thrusts before slamming his cock as deep as he could go, his seed filling you. You moaned lowly, the sensation of your boss cumming inside you, sending you tumbling into a final release. Your walls squeezed around his cock, milking him for every drop he had to give you.

“Fuck, babydoll.” Vox gasped, slowly pulling his cock from you.

He chuckled at you whining at the loss of him, admiring how his seed leaked from your cunt, the sight made his cock twitch again. You tried to press yourself up onto your arms, but they quickly gave out from beneath you. Vox leaned forward, reaching for your panties that hung loosely around your knees. He pulled them up, patting your cunt through them, making you gasp and moan at the sensation. He pulled your skirt back down, covering your ass, before he helped you up off your desk. He turned you to face him, holding you in his arms, his softening cock pressing against your stomach.

“I’ll ensure you have a new laptop sent to your office tomorrow.” He says softly, making sure you could stand on your own before tucking himself away.

You nod, slightly dazed. “R-Right. I’ll rewrite that report tomorrow then.”

Vox heads to the door, pausing before leaving, “Don’t bother. Just ensure the next is better. Oh and y/n?”

You glance up, surprised he had used your name. “Yes, sir?”

“I’ll see you tonight, I’m not done with you yet. And use my name, you deserve to after taking my cock so well.”

You flush in embarrassment, watching Vox leave your office with a promise that you knew he intended to keep.

[xiaosonlybeloved]

First Words~ Gojo Satoru

featuring:- Gojo Satoru, fem!reader, Megumi, Tsumiki, [d/n] is your daughter's name tags:- fluff, reader has a child with Gojo, Megumi and Tsumiki are still kids and live with them, reader is called mama a/n:- oh my god people writing this killed me how do yall write fluff T.T the next fic i write is gonna be hardcore angst as compensation dudhsufi, also my first time writing fluff and jjk hope u like it :)

wc:- 1.1k

masterlists

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but have you seen a white-haired man with a small kid anywhere?” You frantically asked the nearest shop employee. You had turned your back on your husband for just a few minutes, which had apparently been enough for him to disappear somewhere into the large supermarket, with your child. Thank the gods atleast Megumi and Tsumiki had the good sense to not follow him. Unfortunately, neither of them had caught Satoru disappearing. 

You tightly held Megumi’s hand to ensure that you two wouldn’t be separated, keeping your eyes peeled for the albino male. Tsumiki, being a little older than him, had decided to independently search for Satoru, both of you agreeing to return to the billing counter once you’d found him. “I swear, when I find him, he’s gonna have it from me.” You muttered under your breath as you hurried with Megumi through the endless rows in the supermarket. 

And voila, where do you finally find him? In one of the multiple rows of the sweets and deserts section, one hand carefully balancing your child and keeping her from grabbing at the chocolates, while he stocked the cart with packets of chocolates, in addition to the pile of donut packets and sweets and what not. You narrow your eyes as you leave Megumi’s hand and angrily stomp towards him, causing him to freeze as if he’s been caught red-handed -which he had been. He hadn’t even finished the humongous stock at home, and he was buying more! At this rate, he deserved to develop diabetes with his crazy sweet tooth.

Satoru nervously grins at you as you narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, darling, there you are-” “Cut the crap, Gojo Satoru. You had me searching for over 15 minutes, do you know that? You weren’t even answering your phone, the sheer audacity. We are outside right now, so I won’t make a scene, but you damn better be prepared when we get home.” You shift your attention from your husband to your daughter, whose eyes had lit up on seeing you and was grabbing at you with her chubby fingers, almost falling out of Satoru’s arms. You let out a sigh of relief as you take her into your arms, giving her a kiss on her forehead, which made her giggle and laugh as she started babbling, attempting to say ‘Mama’. It was always so adorable to see her say gibberish- she was starting to speak these days, much to your and Satoru’s elation. From beside you, Megumi gently held her hand, and she closed her fist tightly around his finger. You gently bend down a bit so that Megumi can squish [d/n]’s cheeks and she can grab his spiky hair with her other hand as both you and Satoru chuckled. 

“Gu.. Gu..Mi… Gumi!” Your daughter suddenly exclaims after many attempts, using the nickname you two had given Megumi. All three of you freeze, amidst [d/n]’s babbling of “Gumi! Gumi!” Satoru is the first one to break out laughing as he throws an arm around Megumi, saying with a grin, “Well, would ya look at that? Her first word isn’t Mama or Papa, its you! Man, I’m a bit jealous, but oh well.” Megumi looks stunned as she sticks out her tongue at him, something she recently learned from Satoru. But slowly, a soft smile spreads across his face as he hesitantly reaches his arms out, asking you if he could hold her. You readily give him his little sister as she starts laughing once again, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair. He doesn’t seem affected as he gently plays with her a bit.

Just then, Tsumiki comes running in. “I see you found him!” She exclaims between pants. “What did I miss?” Satoru happily tells her what happened as [d/n] again shifts her attention from Megumi to you, reaching out for you again. He quickly hands her over to you, satisfied, and she snuggles into your shoulder, mumbling her second word- Mama, as you grin and play with her hair affectionately. Satoru excitedly hurries behind you to see his adorable little daughter’s face, but all she does is frown at him for ‘disturbing her time with her mom’. She turns her face away, burying it into your neck, when Satoru tries to get a reaction out of her by poking and pinching her cheeks. “Cmon, sweets, just say my name once? Just once?” He tried to prod at her, and she glared at him, or well… tried to- she just looked adorable as ever with a baby scowl. Tsumiki giggled at his relentless attempts, finally pulling him away from his daughter with a scolding of “Stop annoying her!” Then she walks up to you for her turn of holding [d/n], welcomingly holding her arms out for her. [d/n] stares at her for a bit, before agreeing, as if deciding that she wasnt likely to annoy her. All four of you ignore Satoru’s gasp of utter betrayal. 

“My own family doesn’t stand by me anymore.” He wept dramatically in the middle of the supermarket as the four of you grin and play with [d/n], who finally says her third word- ‘Miki’. (Store employees and other people give you weird looks but ignore you.) You’re surprised at how quickly she’s learning- probably something she inherited from her dad. Ironically, her dad’s name is the only name she hasn’t spoken yet. 

She quietens down after a while, causing the three of you to look at her in puzzlement. “I guess she’s tired by now.” You hummed as she started reaching out of Tsumiki’s arms again, but towards her dad. He immediately grabs the opportunity, quickly taking [d/n] into his arms. She rests her head on his shoulder, as if she was about to fall asleep, and you all look at your little bundle of joy with a soft smile.

Just before she starts snoring, she mumbles another word, the last one before she falls asleep- ‘Papa’. A warm grin spreads across your husband’s face, as he first looks at his daughter, then at his family- all of whom are smiling happily at him too. 

Luckily for him, the scolding you were supposed to give him at home slipped your mind amongst all the excitement in the supermarket. After all, you do love him and the rest of your family with all your heart, so you suppose you can forgive his childish antics this once. (And many more times in the future too.)

requests are open, and darn it i have no idea how to write fluff aaa. reblogs, tags and comments are very much appreciated , thanks for reading :)

[lunaviee]

can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33

OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..

the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG

okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁

OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭

“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”

chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s

tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…

synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓

RIN ITOSHI—

the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.

after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.

*click*

the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.

“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.

“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”

you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.

“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”

his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.

“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.

he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”

“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.

“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.

“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??

“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.

“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”

how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?

“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”

you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.

his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.

“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)

“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”

the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?

“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.

who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.

it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.

“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”

you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh

“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”

“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face

“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.

“yeah, you’re right, thanks”

“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”

“i’ll stay here and bug you more”

“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling

• { time skip - two days later } •

the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.

sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.

your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.

you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.

your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.

“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.

rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.

the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.

that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.

he’d been..crying?

your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.

“i’m sorry” he blurted out

he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.

he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.

“i’m so sorry [name].”

“i know.”

“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”

“i know.”

“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”

he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.

“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.

silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.

“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.

rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.

“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying

“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”

“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”

“i know.”

the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.

“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed

rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.

“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.

[loulovingho]

I 100% agree with you that that was lazy writing. What was the point of deliberately picking someone the audience (and the 118) were familiar with to be Buck's LI when they could have picked some random. What was the point in delving into Tommy's history and his feelings, what was the point of showing him head over heels for Buck in the last ep, of getting a gift for their 6 month anniversary only to say "oh well, I figured we wouldn't last, so I'm gonna get out now before you break my heart". Why let him get that involved if Tommy's ideology was to never allow himself to move forward in the relationship because ultimately he thought it wouldn't last? It's whiplash for the audience after you saw how INVESTED Tommy was in the last ep! And how exactly is this Buck getting off the hamster wheel? This relationship has ended pretty much exactly like all his others - he gets invested, they leave! They had so much potential as a couple - seeing what it's like for two fire-fighters to date knowing they're both in risky jobs, maybe Buck having to meet/deal with Tommy's homophobic father, getting to explore a "new" character's back story instead of rehashing the same story lines from the mains as well as seeing more of how Buck deals with being in a same sex relationship. All wasted.

And since they referenced Glee, if the plan is for it to echo the Kurt/Blaine relationship in that show where they broke up so they could "explore" before getting back together, by doing so they ruined that relationship so much that by the end it wasn't satisfying that they WERE endgame - they weren't the couple we fell in love with. (And also, way to reinforce the negative stereotype of "you can't ever be long term with your first". I should let my sister, my cousin and my aunt know even though they've all been married for years to their husbands - all their first.) Even if they do decide to bring Tommy back down the line, would it even be the same relationship we fell in love with? Would we even trust the writers to stick with it and treat it well? Or if they did a final episode reunion so Buck doesn't end the series alone, how is that satisfying for the audience?

I have been watching 911 since it started, and I have always been part of the general audience up until S7 where I joined the fandom because I thought Buck/Tommy were adorable. It's the first time in years I've become invested in a couple on a show. It's the first time in years that I've dipped my toes back into a fandom. Like you, this ship inspired me to write fic again. I have a bunch of wip's waiting to be posted on ao3 and I honestly don't know if I'll finish them now. And if they have broken them up for Buddie to get together I think I'll stop watching. And not just because I never saw them as a romantic couple (I only ever saw a deep friendship) but because logistically I don't see it working. Besides the fact that I think that while they work as friends, they probably wouldn't gel as a couple, two people on the same team in a relationship? That will screw up the 118 dynamic, especially as this show looooves relationship drama. If they get in a fight, or worse, break up, then what? How would that work within the 118, unless someone transfers out, but then it's bye bye the 118 we love. And not to mention, in the only 4 months I have been in this fandom I have seen some VILE crap from the buddies, and from what I understand it they've been like that for years. And the show runners know about it, so if they go with Buddie, congratulations, you've rewarded toxic behaviour and given them a license to be worse (look at them already, going in the bucktommy tags and gloating).

I told myself after Glee ended and they royally screwed everything up that I wouldn't watch another Ryan Murphy show because he has a history of doing that sort of thing. When 911 came along I was cautious, but it looked like it would be different - more grown up if you will, especially since Ryan Murphy hasn't really been involved since season 1. I should have just gone with my gut. I just hope that, knowing these last two eps were filmed weeks before they aired, the showrunners see how popular they were and realise crap, we've made a BIG mistake. (Everyone should flood instagram and especially Facebook, whoch is more GA than most social media platforms, with RESPECTFUL comments about how devastated they are, and who knows, it might make them consider bringing Tommy back sometime in 8b - I believe they're still writing the back half of the season.)

Side note, I feel really sorry for Lou. Yeah he's going back to SWAT, and I love him in that (even though his character can be a dick sometimes) but he's said in interviews how he's tired of always being cast as "the muscle" due to his size and he seemed genuinely happy to get this role, which was exactly what he was looking for - the sweet, caring, romantic love interest role where he could show some depth, and they screwed him over (sounds like he even thought Buck and Tommy were doing well and wasn't expecting the break up until the end).

(Apologies for the long rant. But what you've been saying really resonated with me and I needed to share your sentiments.)

.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Playing with Fire: The Photobooth

Fandom: Marvel (Dad's Best Friend AU)

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad's coworker and best friend, Bucky, decides to tag along with you on your errands after your boyfriend bailed on you last minute.

A/N: Bucky is in his late 40s, reader in her mid to late 20s. inspo came from these recent pics of seb.

The Book Store

Further into downtown, you stop at another store that sold different types of knick knacks and gifts.

Bucky follows you out of your car and towards the store, "Yelena's birthday is coming up so I figured I can check this place out for some stuff for her."

"I'm following you, sugar," Bucky says as he enters the store and is immediately met with a plethora of color and trinkets.

You zero in on a shelf that displays little crystal figurines. You smile at the ones shaped like animals, some shaped like Pokemon and Sanrio characters.

Yelena always had a thing for elephants so you immediately pick up an elephant carving made from amethyst.

"Those are cute," Bucky says as he looks over your shoulder.

You turn to him with a grin, "Right?! Lena, would love this," you hold up the elephant with a wide smile.

"She likes elephants?"

You nod, "She likes how smart and cute they are."

Bucky watches as you head to the pay counter and ask the cashier if you could place the crystal carving there for now. When the cashier nods, you thank them and head back to Bucky.

"I just wanted to make sure I don't accidentally drop it while I look around."

Bucky continues to follow you around the store until his eyes land on a photobooth in the corner. His eyes brighten, "Oh, hey! Check this out!" He takes your hand and leads you to the booth, "Haven't used one of these since high school."

You scrunch your face up as you think, "I don't think I've actually used one of these before."

Bucky looks at you in surprise, "Really?" You shrug and he opens the curtain to it, "Well let's do one then."

You snort, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, c'mon. Better late than never, right?" He takes your hand again and pulls you in. He sits on the bench and you do your best to squeeze in beside him.

"This isn't gonna work out, here," he has you stand and then he pulls you onto his leg, "Better?"

You gulp, "Y-Yeah."

You try not to pay attention to the hand that rests on your hip as he pays and picks out the amount of pictures and strips. He leans back and points at the screen, "Okay. It's gonna count down for us before every picture. There'll be four pictures all together so be ready."

"Right. Got it. What should we do first?"

"Uuuuhhh happy?"

You giggle and you both smile when the screen counts down to one. You two work quick, "Sad?"

The both of you do your best to look sad. You frown while Bucky straight up looks like he's wailing. When the camera snaps, you lose it. You find Bucky's face absolutely hilarious and he's watching you laugh at him. You're too caught up in the moment to realize that the countdown started and took your picture.

"Oh crap. Uuuuhhh, silly face?" he asks and you nod.

You blow out your cheeks and cross your eyes. He pulls out his ears and sticks his tongue out.

He pulls back the curtain again and has you step out first. You realize how warm you are now so you start to fan yourself. He walks out with a grin, "That was fun."

He leans against the booth while waiting for the pictures to print, "I can't believe you never used one of these before."

"Just never caught my interest, I guess. But I definitely see the appeal now. I'll have to come back with Yelena to use it."

Bucky cocks a brow, "Not your boyfriend?"

Your smile weakens at the mention of your boyfriend, "Oh, um, John doesn't like taking pictures together. He thinks they're dumb."

Bucky's brows raise, "Thinks they're dumb?"

You shrug, "He thinks taking pictures together and posting them is like showing off. So he said he doesn't need to show off our relationship because we both know we're in one. I don't really get it, but I got tired of arguing with him on wanting to have keepsakes for memories," you look down in shame. The only person who knows how John is like is Yelena. When around your dad, John puts up a front. Like he's the perfect guy to you. He's not bad, but sometimes he's not good either.

"And this is the same boyfriend who ditched you today?" Bucky asks with a look on his face you can't even decipher. Is he mad? Annoyed?

"He didn't necessarily ditch me, Bucky. He had a deadline to meet for his capstone project."

"Right and I'm sure he already knew of this deadline and proceeded to procrastinate anyway."

You cross your arms over your chest defensively, "What's your issue with him? You don't even know him, Bucky."

"You're right, I don't, but from just the little information you've given me today, I don't think he's the right guy for you."

"Don't think you have a say in the guys I get involved with, Bucky," you say with a scoff and turn around to walk away but he grabs you by the elbow, "Wait, wait."

You turn back to him and raise a brow, arms crossed over your chest. He sighs, "I'm sorry. I just know you deserve better."

"Thanks but I'll be the judge of that, Bucky. I'm an adult. I'm responsible for my own decisions."

"Yeah. I know, but still. You deserve to be with someone who isn't afraid to show you off, ya know? Makes time with you and does everything to make you happy."

You nod, "I know. Thanks, Bucky."

"Sure," he lets you go to continue to shop for Yelena.

[cursedvida]

Honestly. Every two or three days someone publishes a post saying "oh why do you like nomae? If mae is bad, she's the villain, blah blah blah" that makes me wonder if these people have a life beyond wasting their time hating.

If you don't like something, can't you just block it? Or can't you just focus on promoting what you like?

Oh my god, do something productive with your lives.

It's good to see that lately even those who don't ship nomae are against these people.

There are many points we can discuss about this.

For example, we can talk about how absurd and pointless it is to throw hate at a ship. I mean, what do people gain from it? Making others feel bad? Do they really get satisfaction from shaming and trying to make people feel guilty for just trying to escape reality for a while by shipping and fangirling over things they like in a healthy and purely playful way? Do they seriously find any pleasure in it? Does it give them dopamine or something? Because if they really need to crush people to feel better about themselves, what I would recommend is to leave the internet and start therapy because these are indeed very sadistic and sociopathic behaviors.

Putting aside the melodramatic and catastrophic moment, we can also talk about how sad it is to waste time hating something instead of doing something productive like, for example, creating content. They complain that the KotPotA tags are infested with things about Nomae, but do they contribute anything beyond the hate? Do they write dissertations, present theories, upload gifsets or fanarts? No, of course not, they just throw crap. I mean, if it bothers you so much that when you enter the tag 90% of the content is not to your liking, then I invite you to fill the tag with things you do like. You are free to do so. But I guess it’s much easier to just complain instead of making an effort to contribute.

This brings me to another point that I find very ironic. Yes, everything is full of Nomae, but that is precisely what keeps the fandom alive. Every day someone uploads some fanart, some video, some comment or fanfic. Every day there is someone talking in this tag about the topic that, whether many like it or not, means talking about the movies. Let’s be honest, those of us who keep fandoms alive (and I speak in general) are the shippers, especially when they are fandoms of franchises whose content are movies that take years to come out. If it weren’t for people fangirling all the time, there would be no content on social media. I’m sorry if you don’t like that content, but once again I invite you to use your freedom of expression to create rather than try to destroy people’s self-esteem.

But well, as you say, at least there are people with common sense and enough mental maturity to understand that if you don’t like something, the best thing to do is ignore it and that’s it, as well as understanding that shaming people on social media is very much a thing of 15 years ago and today it’s just pathetic.

[chaotic-starlight24]

I see you have requested hc requests for a pair of outsiders characters. Dally and Darry please?

Thanks so much for the request :D Dally and Darry it is!

Warnings: Spoilers, Angst towards the end

When Dally first showed up in Tulsa as a scraggly little 13 ¾ year old, Mr. Curtis told Mrs. Curtis and Darry to look out for him. So Darry tried his best to take him under his wing. Dally actually warmed up to him though it took a while. He saw him as an older brother of his own. But he never admitted that out loud since that almost always ended badly for the “older brother” of the situation.

They drifted from each other for some time though because Darry thought Dallas was becoming a bad influence on his brothers. Mainly the time when Dally fell back into the hood he was in New York. So Darry would try his best to keep Pony and Soda away from him (much to Soda’s sadness). After a couple arguments with Dally, Darry told Mrs. Curtis about his concerns. And she changed his point of view on Dally and just about every hood on the east side. It made him realize that Dally was a scared kid who had to toughen up or die. So Darry started to go a little easier on him.

Darry is actually one of the few Dally trusts. They butt heads from time to time but they also know they can lean on each other if really needed. 

Dally tries his best to help out Darry from time to time. The problem is that Dally isn’t exactly the most responsible person. Like he’ll offer to let Pony tag along with him and Johnny so Darry can get some time to do whatever, but that does mean Pony may or may not know how to gamble. Dally’s trying his best, guys.

Darry is one of the few to have heard about Dally’s siblings back in New York. Dallas hasn’t gone into a bunch of detail but most of the gang doesn’t even know Dally had a family. So for example, one afternoon Dally was just hanging out while Darry was sorting through Pony’s report cards and Dally just kinda laughed to himself, “You know, you remind me a lot of Henry.” “Who?” “Oh, nobody… He was my brother, he uh, he tried his best to get us all through schoolin’. But I neva cared much for it.”

One night while the gang was all hanging out, Dally overheard Darry talking to Two-Bit about Paul. Darry just says something like, “I miss him sometimes, but he’s not the same person anymore. I’ve heard some of the nasty stuff he’s said about me and my bro-“ That’s all it took for Dally to go storming out of the house to find Tim and his gang. Paul left his party to discover his brand new wheels missing from his car. Darry woke up in the morning to discover some real nice tires on him and Soda’s car. Dally was honestly ready to just steal Paul’s car altogether but Tim convinced him otherwise.

Before Dally really became a part of the gang, Darry wanted to help him out to find somebody who just matched his vibes. He knew Tim from random parties and from Two-Bit so he was just like “Maybe they’ll get along!”. So he took Dally for a walk and told him about this guy he thinks Dally will like and Dallas was just like “One second.” and pickpocketed a guy who walked by. That guy immediately turned around and started cursing him out and causing a fight to break out between them. Darry just stood there because “Aw crap, that’s Tim!” Darry very much believed he just gave Dally his first enemy. But after fighting they complemented each other’s fighting style and started talking. Darry left them to it and walked off.

Someone in Tim’s gang taught Dally how to drive. Darry heard Dally was learning and was like “Ok! How about you show me what you know!” Dally took hold of that wheel and Darry mentally noted to never drive with him again. Dally has since gotten a bit better but also hasn’t exactly made major improvement.

Darry tried to pick him up before Dally got similar in height to him. Dally immediately started squirming and cursing like an angry chihuahua.

Dally followed Darry and Two-Bit around a lot when he first became a part of the gang. Sure he really connected with Johnny, but it took him a bit. Steve, Soda, and Johnny were a trio that had grown up together and same with Darry and Two-Bit. So Dally was kinda the weird middle ground between them both friend and age wise. Darry and Two were always welcome to have him around but Dally still tried to keep up that cool guy persona. So on the days Darry didn’t have practice, him and Two-Bit would be walking around, chatting and laughing together. Then Dallas would be trailing a couple feet behind them, hands stuffed in his leather jacket just kinda walking along with them.

When Dally died that was the first time in a while since Darry has felt pure rage. Everything in him wanted to throw everything he had at the cops, but he knew that wouldn’t do any good. Instead he had to see Dallas lying cold on the ground. And not in a peaceful way or anything. It tore Darry apart inside to see this kid like this. This kid he has looked out for since he came to Tulsa. This kid his brother had brought into the gang. This kid who followed him and his best friend around for the first couple months. This kid who dealt with so much pain and hurt yet hid it away from his surface, keeping up with his persona. His persona that so desperately wanted to be older than he actually was, the version who could take all that has hit him. And now Darry watches as they drag a white sheet over the body and haul him away. 

[slut4msby]

don't fuck your co-workers. kuroo tetsurō x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; heavily suggestive, implied smut, use of the word "slut" like once & reader deffo sleeps around

+ a/n; listen to the title guys, don't fuck ur co-workers pls its not good and this does include dating, it's BAD (been there done that). also this is my longest one-shot yet (wc; 1544) AND first none inarizaki one-shot I AM A CHANGED WOMAN

Don’t fuck your co-workers.

That is the one unspoken rule of the workplace, right? It ruins the dynamic and adds unneeded tension to an already dreaded environment. But what if having sex with your coworkers is the only way to make it to the top. You were smart, you knew that. But more than your brains you had the looks. And even more dangerous, you knew how to use them. Use them to your advantage. Low of you? Maybe. Did it work? Yes. 

You can’t help but let out a sigh at the emails sitting in front of you. Who knew having a job meant you would actually have to do work. Maybe becoming a sugar baby would have been the easier option. As the music plays throughout your headphones, trying to find some motivation to respond to the endless company emails that sit in front of you. Maybe you should just walk out now and marry rich. 

“L/N-san? Are you good?” Your coworker says as he walks past your desk.

Your head darts up, looking at the handsome figure in front of you. Kuroo Tetsurō. One of the men in the building you have yet to sleep with. Kuroo was seen as higher than you in the business, so maybe getting in bed with him would give you a better chance at being the business woman you had dreamt of. 

“Earth to L/N?” Kuroo says again, this time waving his hand to get your attention.

Crap. You had zoned out. You nod your head in response. Kuroo peered down at you with confusion. “Actually, Kuroo-san, can you give me a hand responding to this email? I am unsure what they are asking…” you manage to spit out.

“Oh sure, L/N.” He walks next to you, leaning down looking at your monitor. It was an email from a random sports team. Even Kuroo could agree this email was confusing. As he read the words on the screen, you turned to look at him. He looked hot whilst concentrating. Actually, he had always been hot. But one step at a time, right? 

“Oh I see what they are asking now.” Kuroo then goes on to explain the email and how he would respond. You couldn’t help but look at him through your eyelashes. Maybe you were having too much fun sleeping around in the office. Call it what you want, but it gave you some fun and it was efficient. Almost all of the men fell under your control, all of them but Kuroo Tetsurō.

 You could tell Kuroo was paying attention to what you were doing, and he couldn’t deny his attraction to you. Ever since you were hired. Starting off as the pretty secretary all the men would flirt with on their way in. Leaving you coffee and treats each morning. All of the men but Kuroo, who tried to show zero interest in you. Keeping your relationship strictly professional. It wasn’t because he did want anything to do with you. He wanted everything to do with you. However when you had first walked in the building Kuroo was seeing someone, a lady who would often pop in. She was beautiful, sweet and funny. Everyone loved her. However, you started seeing her less. And eventually not at all. Of course this was strange, you happened to ask Kuroo one morning when he walked in when he casually mentioned their breakup. It was sad, but also gave you an opening. You know you should listen to girl code or whatever, but he was too good to miss out on. Maybe your morals weren’t there, but fuck morals. 

“Ah! I get it now, thanks Kuroo-san.” You say shyly, maybe he liked the more innocent approach? “I’ll finish it off now.” You smile.

“No worries, L/N san.” He responded, “If you need anything else I’ll be in my office.”

Good to know.

You looked at him once again, with an innocent look in your eyes. This worked on everyone else in the building. Why not him? The day continued as you answered emails, all your coworkers leaving the building as the sun went down.

“Bye Y/N!” Your coworker Rin said as he walked past. Now it was just you and Kuroo. After your encounter today you were determined to get something out of him. At this point it didn’t mater if fucking Kuroo lead to a promotion or not. It was more like your personal mission, the only thing to satisfy you. Was it a sexual fantasy? Essentially. I mean Kuroo was toned, he had dark hair and dark eyes. Kuroo exerted a mysterious and intriguing vibe. But on top of that Kuroo was funny, smart, cunning, and powerful. He wasn’t head of the JVA but he was high enough where if you convinced him to put in a good word your business woman fantasy would become more than true. 

You got up from your desk, adjusting your skirt and fiddling with the buttons of your shirt. Each step brings you closer to Kuroo as you knock on the door to his office. “Kuroo-san? Are you still here?” You ask softly, as you slowly open the door you see Kuroo sitting in his seat. His laptop closed. 

“Oh hey L/N-san did you need something? I was just getting ready to go home.” Kuroo replies, staring at you. Staring at you. If he didn’t know any better he would have eaten you alive. Your hair now slightly dishevelled, your blouse slightly unbuttoned leaving your lacy bra and cleavage on display, your skirt hugging your hips perfectly, and the thigh high boots making your legs look ever so sexy. Kuroo swears you didn’t look like this last time he saw you. He had heard rumours of your escapades, seeing you know he didn’t blame the men you toyed with. If he could, he would take you right here right now.

“Oh, I just kinda felt scared and lonely by myself. Pathetic to admit I know…” You admit with a very vulnerable tone. It wasn’t a lie, you were lonely and a little scared. You slowly start walking over to Kuroo’s desk, he slowly gets up and walks towards you closing the gap. “Kuroo-san? Why do you keep calling me L/N-san? You refer to everyone else by their first name? Everyone else refers to me by my first name…”

Kuroo knew the reason. It was so he formed no unneeded attachment to you. He already felt attached. For why? He will never know, since the day he met you even being in a relationship he wanted you. Maybe that was part of the reason Kuroo had broken up with his partner, but who knows? Anyone would be naive to deny the sexual tension between you and Kuroo. Maybe it was finally his time to strike? 

“Well why do you call me Kuroo-san, y/n.” He says his hand now on your face, tilting your head up to look up at him. God he looked good. “You call everyone else their first name.”

“I-I don’t know Ku-Tetsurō.” You can’t help but stutter. You were usually the dominant one but something about him made you weak. He had full control over you right now, and you enjoyed it. You know if someone walked in it would be over. You had fucked multiple co-workers before, never in the office. You weren't sure if Kuroo wanted you like that, right here and right now.

“You know, Y/N I have never been the biggest fan of my name… Yet it sounds so pretty when you say it, princess.” He says moving his face closer to yours. God that nickname made you have butterflies, made you want to give him everything right now. 

“Tetsu-” Kuroo cuts you off.

“But I am not going to act dumb with you right now, sweetheart. I know what you have been up to. I know about Rin, Haru, Emori, Yuto, etcetera. About you being the office slut.” He says into your ear softly. “Don’t think I am like one of them Y/N.”

You weakly nod.

“And you know this is wrong?” Kuroo asks.

Another nod comes out as you look up at him with doe-like eyes.

“So, why do you continue?” Kuroo questions.

“I wanted none of them, none of them satisfied me, Tetsurō.” You weakly admit.

“And you think I can do that?” Kuroo responds.

“I know you can, Tetsurō.” 

Kuroo began kissing up your neck, your arms wrapped around his. He slowly lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss now moving to your lips, desperate. You both knew how long you wanted this, since the day you sat down as a secretary. It was even better than he could imagine, your lips soft and tender. You tasted like the watermelon lip balm he would watch you apply. Wishing it was him touching these lips instead.

It was wrong, oh so wrong.

“Tetsu- I need more than this.” You whine, pulling away for some air.

“I know, princess. Why don’t you pack up and we can go home, hm?” 

An offer you couldn’t refuse.

Lets just say, you got that promotion and so much more.

©slut4msby

[c0smiclatt3]

DAN HENG: JUST DOING MY JOB!

a university au - oneshot

☾₊ ⊹ TAGS: university au, first kiss, sfw but tension. is uh happening

AN: for context if you've never seen library stacks they look like this and you have to turn the wheel to open up a path between library shelves, so you have to watch out to make sure nobodys in the rows before using them can you tell i am a uni student

It’d been a few weeks into the semester since you first met him at the library, since those steely gray eyes that peered over at you from the front desk seemed to puncture right through your defences. It’s funny how one day of forgetting your laptop charger could turn into a new daily routine of dropping by the library, requesting to rent one just so you could be struck again. Charger rentals quickly turned to him asking you about the books you’re reading to chats about classes. Then one day he started leaving you cups of tea on your desk for your late night sessions - and always when you have your head down for a power nap so you can’t ever thank him. But the teabag in your cups are always the same brand as the ones you see dangling from his thermos, though he will always deny it.

Today you actually did need his help, though. You were looking for a specific book that was not in the regular library shelves, and needed someone to guide you through the labyrinth that was the archives. Luckily for you, Dan Heng seemed to know them like the back of his hand.

“Sorry to take you away from your job like this.”

“I work at the library help desk. You are asking for my help,” he says matter-of-factly, the way he always spoke. “This is quite literally my job.”

The archive stacks lay out before the two of you, with stacks on stacks of shelves stretched out for what must be all the way from East to West campus. With the archives located in the library’s underground level, it was entirely plausible. It was crazy how in a room that loomed this large, they still had to stack the shelves together to accommodate all of them. Each shelf had a great big wheel on its side, which you knew you had to turn to roll the adjacent shelves aside, allowing you passage to the shelf of your choice. With the smell of finely aging books curling yellow with the years wafting through the room and these great big contraptions of shelves, being down here almost felt otherworldly. You looked to Dan Heng, who walked with purpose and direction - how long must someone spend down here to sift through the shelf labels as algorithmically as he did?

“May I?” Snapping out of your awe, you found him holding his hand out to you, expectantly. Wait - what?

“Huh?”

“Your phone. I forgot the call number.”

Oh. You hand your phone over. This deep into the archives, with the fortress of shelf stacks in front and behind you, the ceiling lights could only reach so far. So when he opened your phone, the light of the screen gently illuminated his face.

“Interesting phone background.” Crap. You'd forgotten what you set your lockscreen to and felt blood rush to your cheeks.

You frown through your embarrassment. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Friendly banter is an effective way to make a friendly atmosphere between library staff and visitors." Once again, as matter-of-factly as ever.

“I didn’t take you for the bantering type.”

Just before you swear you could detect an almost imperceptible smile on his lips. But just as quickly as it came, the light of your phone was snuffed out.

“Here it is,” he set both hands firmly on the wheel, turning and rolling what must have been eight stacks of shelves aside. You didn't expect a nerd like him to do so without breaking a sweat. The shelves gave way with a creak and the crackle of plastic-wrapped books. A space opened up between your two target shelves, just wide enough for one of you at a time to pass through.

“Looks cozy,” you remark, taking a step inside. But you knew this was the farthest right he could push the shelves, and you didn’t want to trouble him to push aside any more. “Let’s go find that book.”

You two work silently, scanning the bookshelves row by row: you on one side and him on the other, meeting in the middle. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little flustered when you two bumped shoulders as you finished the first row, him just silently turning to you, shaking his head. The words registered with just the look on his face. It’s not on this one. And then you two proceeded to the next row.

You went on like this for a little bit, occasionally accidentally brushing hands as you two closely watched the book spines, only for you to hurriedly draw your hand away. But row by row, shelf by shelf, he started to move his hand to yours first, your hands lingering, skin to skin, for just a moment as you both pretended to be carefully observing the last book. Never daring to look the other in the eye lest either one betrays the look on their face. First a brush of the knuckles, them the backs of your fingers, then his hand moves over to just gently slot his fingers over-

The shelves began to close together with a heavy groan. You two must have been so quiet, someone else must not have realized you two were there, and began to close up the stacks, and they were closing in quickly.

Dan Heng's head whipped around, immediately putting himself between you and the incoming shelf, bracing on the shelf behind you. “Excuse me!” He shouts to the stranger, and the shelves ceased.

The stranger called back. “Sorry! I’ll be done in a sec!”

The momentary shock settling down, you realized the position you were in: the two of you, pressed dangerously close together, Dan Heng with one arm above you to steady himself, looking down at you. Your faces were so close as you turned your head up to look at him, you felt a lock of his hair brush your forehead.

“Are you alright?”

You open your mouth to say something, when you realize that with his body pressed to yours he could feel your heart beating wildly in your chest - and was that his thrumming in response? Must the adrenaline from saving you from the shelves be getting him this worked up? Why was your own heart still fluttering if the threat is over? And… Why did your face feel so warm?

“I’m…” You look into his eyes for the first time since you two entered the shelves - he’s handsome. Devastatingly handsome. The faint ceiling lights cut through the shelves, offering a window of light for you to look at him, him to look at you.

You feel his breath on your ear as he speaks in a low whisper. “Sorry… Is this too close?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s… It’s fine…”

Your eyes wandered - could he see where they were looking? Down his face to his lips, and you tried to focus on something - anything - to distract you but all that was before you was him, his eyes gray like winter above you, his heart thumping through his jacket and against your chest, and his lips, god, his lips.

You two stand in silence as you try to peel your eyes away from him. But then he gently puts his free hand under your chin, tipping it back up to look at him. You can’t hide it now - you cheeks flushed pink, the way you’re looking at him. Your foreheads are touching now, his eyes searching yours as his gentle breath fans across your face, a few locks of hair on your cheek stirring. You quietly whisper.

“Is this also part of your job description?”

There's an amused hmph from his lips. A flutter of his eyelashes. Yours closing in response. Your hearts, drumming up courage in you both as he lowers his face and you bring yours up to meet his.

And then the gentlest, gentlest of kisses. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, and his hand under your chin drops to your waist in response, drawing you near. His kisses are long and drawn out, then punctuated: short, sweet like haiku syllables, playing out on your lips, writing you to life.

writing masterlist | bots masterlist

☾₊ ⊹ AN: and that's the last of my works from my sideblog migrated here wooo

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Monthly Pity Party (Supernatural One-Shot)

Team Free Will x AFAB!GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Your cramps are kicking your ass this month, though you do wish the boys would quit throwing pity parties for you.

Fic type: period comfort

SPN: @wereallbrokenangels (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I think I might actually die, like, for real," you groaned, rubbing at your forehead irritably. "I mean- if we ever do find the bastard, I'd like to ask why he or she or they said 'fuck you in particular' to people with vaginas and uteri and all that bullshit."

"Yes, it's not something I was able to fully understand from his plans," Castiel replied, seeming to only be half listening. Your hand shot to your lower belly, breath sucking sharply between your teeth. "Though it does serve a purpose... if... that may provide some comfort to you."

"You know," you groaned, resisting the urge to curl yourself into a ball and pass away on the spot. "It really doesn't, Cas."

Sam stood from his favourite spot at the table, picked your socked feet off the end of the lounge and sat down again while pulling them into his lap. You gave the gentle giant a soft yet strained smile and he squeezed your left foot to show he was listening.

"Dean will be back soon," he said by way of comfort. You were also pretty sure it was a diversion to nip your conversation with Castiel in the bud before it got too heated or too existential. You had a habit of doing that during your time of the month.

Speaking of- the sound of the bunker door closing heralded the arrival of beers for the boys and treats for you. Special treats that you only really reserved for that horrendous week once a month where you weren't able to hunt half the things on your to-get list, or even sometimes able to stay awake for longer than three hours.

"All right," came Dean's voice from around the corner. "Party time. I've got the goods. Beer, pie, skittles, and... all the other crap you asked for." He placed the two bags of groceries and goodies onto the coffee table before gesturing for you to move so he could settle down on the couch with you.

You made space for him and then he patted his lap for you to lay back down again. You settled your head down in his lap as he used his arm to screw the lid of his beer off and chucked the metal disc onto the table.

"Oh Cas, I forgot to heat the thing up," Dean mumbled, giving you an apologetic squeeze on the shoulder before pointing to your homemade wheat bag. "Be a good Angel and do the thing?"

Castiel picked up the wheat bag and disappeared into the kitchen. Hopefully after his stint as a human, he'd know how to use the microwave to heat it up properly. Honestly though, if your skin was able to withstand it, you'd love the direct heat of the sun over your cramps.

Dean leaned forward, grabbed one more beer from the table and passed it to his brother who thanked him quietly. Then he passed you the bag of skittles and watched you rip the thing open and shove a handful into your mouth with a moan of relief that bordered on pornographic.

"I don't know how you eat those," Dean said sceptically. You chewed on the lollies a few more times before swallowing.

"They taste good," you replied as if that was a good enough answer to it all. "And shut up, I've seen some of the stuff you've shoved down your gullet."

"Shut up, Sam-" Dean quipped as Sam snorted out a laugh at your signature bantering. "But fair point."

You let out another hiss as your cramp amped it up once again. Your voice evened out into a rather pained and elongated word not fit for young ears and Dean's brows furrowed in concern.

"Dean, you get like this every month. It's just a few days of discomfort- and if Cas wasn't so wiped right now, he'd make it all go away for me. It's nothing I can't handle. Promise."

Dean took a moody sip of his beer and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I don't have to like it, all right?"

You were saved from having to put too much thought into your response as Cas reappeared from the kitchen, wheat bag in hand. He handed it to you and you placed it over your abdomen. Instantly the heat began soaking through your skin to ease the ache beneath.

"I'm sorry I can't heal you in my current state," Castiel apologised before sitting down stiffly in the single-seater armchair. You sighed, chowing down on a couple more lollies.

"Look guys," you said, pulling your head and feet out of the Winchesters' laps and sitting up. You pressed the heat pack against your abdomen and leaned back against the couch. "I know you all mean well, but it's just a period. You don't have to pity me. I'll be all right after some Advil and some comfort food. A snuggle or two wouldn't hurt either. But I'm not going to have any more of these pitiful apologies and concerned looks."

The three of them looked at each other and then back at you again. Dean and Sam both took a swig and nodded respectfully.

"Sure thing," Sam replied with one of those blink-and-you-miss-it acknowledging smiles.

"Uh-huh," was Dean's answering reply. You knew what that meant. He'd humour you for a day or two and be right back at his usual schtick. But that was fine. You kinda liked it when he was just a little worried over you.

"Right then," you said decisively, giving Castiel a very pointed look. "I'm going to lay back down and we're all going to watch a movie. I am going to grumble about my cramps and we're all going to have a great time, yes? Good."

"Yes dear," Dean reached for the remote for the television. "Now- Cas, I know better than to ask our menstruating friend here what we're gonna watch so- your pick."

[syluscrows]

Sylus taking care of his chronically ill pookie // hurt / comfort / fluff and slight NSFW

WRITTEN IN THE PERSPECTIVE OF AN INDIVIDUAL WITH VEDS / SBS AND ASSOCIATED DISORDERS USING THE SYMPTOMS EXPERIENCED.

Tags: Sylus x reader, gender neutral reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, chronic illness, Sylus being a sweetie pie, and sylus being a jerk...

Tw: organ rupture mentioned, joint dislocation, weak skin / bruising, discussion of shortened lifespan.

- His initial reaction to you telling him is his usual nonchalant self. He doesn't really seem to care, but only in the nicest way possible. Externally he's the exact same at first - internally his dusty brain cogs are spinning like mad, thinking 'what the fuck does that mean'

- He will probably buy you a get well soon basket.. for a chronic condition..

- unbeknownst to you, he has no idea what it is and immediately researched it.. and poor gramps didn't know how dramatic Google was when it came to medical conditions so he only thought of the worst outcomes.

S: "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR ORGANS COULD RUPTURE?!"

Y/n: "Sylus, there's emphasis on the 'could'.."

- you have to reassure him that it's not THAT bad, but the whole shortened lifespan stuff coming up does scare the crap out of this poor man.

Y/n: "sylus it's not exactly the most accurate thing.. we don't know if it'll be that early." You assure him, but he clearly doesn't find that reassuring at all, as someone who can't die, he never thought he would feel so strongly about someone who COULD die, much sooner than expected. You can tell it's left a pit in his stomach that won't go away regardless of what you say.

- He's more careful when you two are sparring, or play fighting.

- (in the perspective of a reader who is a hunter) He knows you can take care of yourself in fights. Witnessing you effortlessly slamming a joint back into place midfight etc. gives him reassurance at this, but that doesn't mean there won't be a certain crow checking up on you now and again when you're apart.

- The first time y'all get freaky he's mortified by the amount of bruises on you. How are they so dark? And so big? It looks like you've gotten into a fight.. And the bruises he leaves on you after are even worse.

- And your skin is so soft he can't keep his hands off of you. 😌

- Bless this man when your limbs go numb and you have to wait out the pins and needles in order to move, he knows exactly what to do. Usually you would have to wait for the uncomfortable feeling to dull down so you can move your legs to regain blood flow, but with Sylus around you don't have to worry, although it feels awful when he does it, he lifts your leg and bends it until the feeling goes away, ensuring the blood flow returns sooner so you aren't uncomfortable for long.

- Afterwards he's asking you where all of the bruises are from. "What about this one?" "Sylus I told you I don't know, they just appear! It probably happens when I sleep!" Oh boy do you regret saying that, this man protects you from everything, you might as well be wrapped in bubble wrap.

- If you use mobility aids, throw them out, he will buy you better ones, fancier ones, maybe even custom ones to match whatever vibe you like.

- let's just say he gets a bit too rough one day and there goes your hip, straight out of the socket.. he immediately apologises over and over again, and despite his usual emotional constipation you can tell it's given him a scare as he tries to figure out what to do, asking if you need to go to hospital, if he can put it back for you.. and despite the immense pain you're in, it's still adorable to see him like that.

- you stand up too fast and immediately just stand there and lean against something until your brain descrambles. He honestly finds it kinda cute, and has to hold back the urge to be malicious... His evil lil heart would love to one day rush you to walk forward and watch you fall, but his soft side is strongly fighting against it.

- You do have to talk him out of treating you like you're fragile, which is irritating. You find yourself constantly reassuring him.

- despite his stoic, cold exterior, he does piss himself laughing when you don't manage to lean against something in time when you're light headed, falling over sideways. Laughter is the best medicine, after all. Of course he's concerned, but only for a split second..

- the brain fog is his favourite part. "What did I just say?" You say with an adorable confused expression on your face, or when you place something down and it's as if it's suddenly phased out of existence. He doesn't care if it makes you slightly tardy on your timekeeping, if you're late you're late, you can't help it.

- the brain fog doesn't exactly make it easy to give you tasks.. he ends up sending you a million messages to remind you of what he's asked you to do.

- The man cringes so hard when you're walking along like nothings happening as if your hip isn't clicking loudly with every step. He is clueless to the fact that it doesn't actually hurt every time...

- The first flare-up he felt helpless, being so uneducated and just watching you in pain, hardly able to do a thing. By the time you'd had a few flare-ups around him he gathered a routine. Running baths, getting ointments for your joints, millions of heat pads, practically staying at your side like a lil servant. You insisted it wasn't necessary, since you've functioned through many flare-ups beforehand, but he won't listen.

- There's an emergency box with instructions in case he isn't around so that Luke and Kieran can take care of you too.🥹

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 1: Pixelated Moments

Mulder appreciates Scully saving him after the video game debacle in "First Person Shooter" - and tells her so. (wc: 971), rating: T

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

She’s scrubbing at her face, hoping to get rid of the paint splatters that speak of their victory in the video game. After all, it could be blood. They could be, she realizes with a shudder, lying dead and cold in a morgue. They’re not. She’s here in the shower, trying to get rid of the paint and the ringing in her ears.

They got home half an hour ago, her muscles protesting as they walked upstairs to her apartment. Despite the hour, they ran into one of her neighbors, who just stared at them. They’ve long stopped asking questions. Tonight, she’s too tired to answer any of them anyway. That’s why she made Mulder write up the report. The thought of him sitting out there in her living room, still partly dressed in gaming gear, splotches of color on his face, typing away, puts a small smile on her face. Her face, she finds, is one of the few body parts that’s not sore.

Lucky her.

As the water drums down on her body and she realizes that she should probably leave some hot water for Mulder, too, she can’t shake the niggling feeling in the back of her mind. The Mulder she saw today, the one who was drooling like a dog over a video game character, and felt the need to blast the crap out of something, is a Mulder she’s unfamiliar with. After all these years together, he’s never shown that particular side of himself to her.

“Hey, you.” Mulder knocks softly against the shower door, surprising her. “Leave me some hot water, huh?”

“I’m almost done.” She closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy the warmth one more moment before she turns the water off. When she steps out, Mulder is there with a towel for her, while he’s stark naked. Unashamed as always. She mouths a thank you while she lets him wrap the towel around her body.

“That was good work,” he murmurs, touching her face. His finger follows the contours of her cheekbones where the paint splotches were just an hour ago. “I still look like a clown,” he finishes with a grin.

“You do.”

“I wasn’t talking about the paint, though. What you did in there- Scully, you were amazing.”

“That’s my job.” She tries to step away from him, but he stops her with a gentle touch on her elbow.

“Being amazing is your job?” He grins. “I’m serious, Scully. I would have been toast. We all would have been. You beat the game.”

“I didn’t. The kill command did.” Mulder shakes his head.

“Before that. You saved my ass.”

“Worth it,” she whispers with a raised eyebrow before she does something she’s always wanted, and never before dared. She gently slaps one of his ass cheeks, making him chuckle.

“Glad you think so. Before all my blood moves south, though, and I won’t be able to think with my actual brain anymore, let me just say thank you, all right?” She’s taken aback, staring up at him. He’s serious. He’s almost too serious. “I don’t say it often enough. I know you don’t understand the need to blast the crap out of something.”

“Maybe I do now.” His eyes grow wide. Only when it is to save him; but that remains her secret for now.

“You want to do it again?”

“No,” she says quickly.

“You were incredible,” he says with a sigh. “But that’s not – I’m glad you came in there, Scully. I’m glad that you saved my ass and probably will do so again next week or next month.”

“And you’ll save mine.”

“Oh yeah.” Up until now, he’s kept his hands to himself. Not anymore. The towel comes loose again and his hands make contact with her skin. Goosebumps appear where his fingers travel over her body. They wander from her shoulder over her arms, make a detour to her boobs, and finally land on her hips. Heat emanates off of Mulder and Scully wonders if he’ll even need hot water at all.

“I know I haven’t showered yet, but…,” he trails off, his mouth landing on hers. His tongue makes a compelling case; he’s teasing her, knowing she can’t resist his plush mouth and his taste. But there’s still that feeling in the back of her mind. She ends the kiss, and Mulder's mouth follows hers, until she puts a hand on his chest.

“Mulder, how often do you play video games?”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t even know you liked them.”

He shrugs before he loops his arms back around her. “I don’t. I play them sometimes with the Gunmen. Or used to. It was, well, call it a misguided sense of nostalgia.”

“I didn’t ask because I think you shouldn’t play them. I was just- it’s something I didn’t know about you.”

“And you were wondering if one of these weekends I was going to ask you if I could bring my Playstation? Don’t worry, Scully,” he says, leaving a soft kiss on her nose, “I won’t. I have better things to do with my hands.”

“Do you, now?” And she knows he does. Her body is well acquainted with his hands by now. She can’t get enough of his touch. Not now, not ever. His kisses become hungrier, and she realizes they’re walking backward, towards her bedroom. Mulder’s shower is forgotten, and she laughs softly as she comes face to face with the paint still on his face.

“You can help me wash it off.”

“Later,” she says, touching every paint splatter on his face, no matter how small. They tell a story, too. She wonders what else she’ll learn about Mulder. And what he’ll learn about her in the process. There are still so many stories to tell. Tonight, though, she wants to feel.