#Request lists

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hey all! Just as a heads up, the request rules have been updated with not only Resident Evil characters but Criminal Minds ones too!

Requests will open up in the next couple week hopefully so keep your asks ready!

[novelbear]

scenarios for that grump x sunshine dynamic

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

letting their chatty partner ramble about their day, listening with a small smile

sunshine toppling over them with the biggest hug they could muster and grump just giving them tiny little pats to reciprocate

grumpy going out of their comfort zone to cheer up their sunshine who's having a bad day

^ "look, i made pancakes! i even made a smiley face out of the whipped cream, see?" "oh, that's what it's supposed to be? you're so cute.."

grumpy calling sunshine names (dummy, idiot, chatterbox) knowing they take no offense to them, but the moment someone else does, they snap

"are you always this happy?" "i try to be, but especially when i'm with you."

sunshine knowing when it's okay to push but never crosses a line when it comes to grumpy's boundaries

sunshine comforting the grump when they're a little more quiet and snappy than usual, leaving grump a flustered mess because they're used to people actually listening when they tell them to leave them alone

"i'm not leaving you like this, i care about you."

sunshine taking grumpy on more active dates than they're used to (like ice skating for example)

[while cloudgazing] "i see a duckling!" "literally how."

sunshine making lunch for grumpy in the cutest way possible (little notes, heart-shaped sandwiches, always adding their fave snack)

getting into arguments about how nice sunshine can be and where it gets out of hand

^ "i was just trying to be nice!" "they were clearly taking advantage of that!" "since when do you care so much?" "i'm trying to look out for you!"

grumpy letting sunshine play with/do their hair

when laundry piles up and grumpy has no choice but to borrow one of sunshine's colorful little sweaters

^ and of course, sunshine coos and smothers them all day over it

"i love you." "i know." "say it back!"

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Said

Said—to express in words; state

Alleged - asserted to be true or to exist

Argued - to give reasons for or against something

Articulated - to utter clear and understandable sounds

Asked - to seek information

Asserted - to state or declare positively and often forcefully or aggressively

Babbled - to talk enthusiastically or excessively

Bellowed - to shout in a deep voice

Bragged - to talk boastfully

Commented - to explain or interpret something by comment

Communicated - to convey knowledge of or information about

Complained - to make a formal accusation or charge

Cried - to utter loudly

Declined - to refuse especially courteously

Demanded - to call for something in an authoritative way

Denied - to declare (something) to be untrue

Encouraged - to attempt to persuade

Expressed - to represent in words

Giggled - to utter with a giggle

Growled - to utter angrily

Inquired - to ask about

Mentioned - to make mention of; refer to

Moaned - lament, complain

Nagged - to irritate by constant scolding or urging

Rebuked - to criticize sharply; reprimand

Rebutted - to contradict or oppose by formal legal argument, plea, or countervailing proof

Rejected - to refuse to accept, consider, submit to, take for some purpose, or use

Replied - to respond in words or writing

Retorted - to answer back usually sharply

Roared - to utter or proclaim with a roar

Scolded - to censure usually severely or angrily

Shrieked - to utter a sharp shrill sound

Shrugged - to raise or draw in the shoulders especially to express aloofness, indifference, or uncertainty

Stated - to express the particulars of especially in words; report

Taunted - to reproach or challenge in a mocking or insulting manner

Voiced - to express in words; utter

Vowed - to promise solemnly; swear

Warned - to give admonishing advice to

Whined - to complain with or as if with a whine

Whispered - to speak softly with little or no vibration of the vocal cords especially to avoid being overheard

Yelled - to utter or declare with or as if with a yell; shout

More: Word Lists

[cosmophoriia]

੭ — levels of intimacy.

ღ request from: @generousvintagevictorianeagle — hi!! can you please write some dialogue prompts about a relationship/ intimacy within partners/ and caring for each other type beat… fluff and maybe a little angst and smut… much appreciated!!

ღ warnings : some angst + smut mentioned!

"when’s the last time you ate something?"

“let me run you a nice soothing bath.”

“you look so beautiful, baby.” “babe, i just woke up.” “you’re always beautiful even if you just woke up.”

“let’s cuddle on the couch and watch your favorite movie.”

“i got you a present, i hope you like it.”

“why didn’t you just tell me you needed a break?”

“i’m sorry about what happened, i’m here if you ever need to talk about it.”

“hey… hey… why are you crying?”

“are you okay?”

“this is a great opportunity for you, i thought you would be happy but why do you look so sad?”

“you know you can tell me anything right?”

“can’t sleep.” “i tried absolute everything but nothing.” pulling you even closer as they say “you haven’t tried everything, i think i can get you to fall asleep”

“wanna take this to the bed?”

“we can take things slow if you want?”

“fuck… you’re so good.”

“please… go harder.”

“you look so pretty as you squirm under me.”

“let me clean you up.”

“such a good girl f’me.”

“is this okay?” character a ask before going any further and character b simply nods their head. “use your words baby.”

[hazzashouse]

Forgotten - Harry Styles one-shot

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! This one is a bit sad but I hope you’ll like it!

Summary: After Harry forgets an important anniversary, tensions boil over into a heated argument that leaves both of you hurting. Harry is forced to confront his mistakes and the cracks forming in your relationship. Determined to make things right, he sets out to prove that his love for you is stronger than his faults.

Triggers: arguments/raised voices, miscommunication and emotional tension, feelings of neglect/loneliness in a relationship, brief mention of crying and hurt feelings

Pairing: Harry Styles x female reader

Harry stepped into the house, running a hand through his hair as he closed the door behind him. It had been a long day, back-to-back meetings and calls about the tour, and all he could think about was collapsing into bed.

But when he looked up, you were standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly, your expression a mix of anger and something sharper—disappointment.

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Your gaze flicked toward the dining table, and his stomach dropped. The candles, the neatly set plates, the untouched food—it all clicked too late.

“It’s our anniversary,” you said quietly, your voice trembling with restrained anger.

“Shit.” The word slipped out before he could stop it. He ran a hand through his hair again, cursing himself. “I—fuck, I forgot. I didn’t mean to, I just—”

“Got busy?” you snapped, cutting him off. “That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it, Harry?”

“It’s not an excuse,” he shot back, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. “You know how crazy things have been. I’m trying to keep everything together—”

“Everything except us,” you interrupted, your voice rising. “Do you even care anymore? Or am I just supposed to sit here, waiting for you to remember I exist?”

His jaw clenched. “That’s not fair. You know I love you. I’m doing all of this for us—for you.”

“For me?” You laughed, bitter and sharp. “Don’t put this on me. I didn’t ask for your schedule to swallow you whole. I didn’t ask to be forgotten.”

“Forgotten?” he repeated, his frustration bubbling over. “I’m out there working my ass off, trying to balance everything, and you think I’ve just forgotten about you? That’s not how this works!”

“It’s exactly how it feels!”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to explain, to make you understand how much he hated being away, how much he hated this argument. But the words got stuck in his throat, tangled up in his exhaustion.

You shook your head, tears shining in your eyes. “I can’t do this right now.”

Before he could stop you, you grabbed a blanket from the closet and headed for the couch.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with desperation. “Don’t do this.”

But you didn’t look back.

———————

The house was silent, the weight of your argument pressing heavily on Harry’s chest. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word you’d said. Forgotten. The word echoed in his mind, a sharp reminder of how badly he’d messed up.

Around 2 a.m., he gave up on sleep, his body restless and his guilt gnawing at him. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and padded down the stairs.

There you were, curled up on the couch, your face turned toward the backrest, your body stiff even in sleep. The blanket you’d brought was tangled around your legs, barely covering you.

Harry’s chest tightened at the sight. You looked so small, so vulnerable, and it killed him to think he was the reason you were here instead of beside him in bed.

Carefully, he grabbed another blanket from the chair and draped it over you, tucking it gently around your shoulders. He crouched beside the couch for a moment, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

———————

When Harry woke up the next morning, you were already gone. A note on the counter simply said, At work. See you later.

The pang of guilt in his chest only deepened. He couldn’t leave things like this—not after last night.

When you came home that evening, the house smelled incredible—like garlic, herbs, and something warm and inviting.

You stepped into the kitchen, dropping your bag by the door, and froze. The dining table had been reset, fresh candles flickering softly, and a vase of flowers sat in the center. Harry was there, standing by the stove, wearing an apron that made you bite back a reluctant smile.

“Hey,” he said, turning to face you, his expression equal parts nervous and hopeful.

“What’s all this?” you asked cautiously.

He stepped closer, wiping his hands on the apron before pulling it off. “This is me trying to make it up to you. For last night. For forgetting. For everything.”

You stared at him, your emotions tangled. “Harry, I—”

“Please,” he interrupted gently, his eyes searching yours. “Let me say this.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, waiting.

“I know I’ve been…distracted,” he admitted, his voice low. “And I know I’ve been terrible at showing it lately, but I love you. More than anything. I hate that I made you feel like you don’t matter, because you do. You’re my everything, and I never want you to doubt that.”

Your throat tightened, and you looked away, afraid he’d see the tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m not perfect,” he continued. “I’ll probably mess up again. But I want to do better. For you. For us. If you’ll let me.”

When you looked back at him, the vulnerability in his expression made your chest ache. Slowly, you stepped closer, your walls crumbling. “You really hurt me, Harry.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice thick with guilt. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He pulled you close, his chin resting on top of your head as you finally let the tears fall.

For the first time in weeks, you felt like you had him back.

The two of you ate dinner together, talking and laughing like you used to. It wasn’t perfect—there were still things to work through—but it was a start.

And for now, that was enough.

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.8k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up

a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.

Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.

You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.

Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.

Even if it means looking like this.

You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.

With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.

Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?

You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.

Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.

His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.

“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.

“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”

And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”

He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.

And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.

“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”

At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.

Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.

“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”

That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”

And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?

You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”

To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”

Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”

Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.

Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.

“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.

“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.

You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.

The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”

The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.

Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.

Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.

And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.

Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.

“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.

After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.

The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.

Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Sorry,” you offer meekly.

He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”

You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”

“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”

You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.

You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.

Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.

For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?

“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”

If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.

And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.

Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.

You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.

“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”

You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.

“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”

Well.

That’s not exactly comforting.

Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.

A strip club.

You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.

“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.

You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.

And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”

“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”

“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”

To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”

You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.

“The f—”

“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”

To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”

The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.

Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.

“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”

“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.

“But, sir—”

“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.

The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.

You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.

Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.

Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.

He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.

“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.

And so you do.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.

But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.

And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.

Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.

It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.

You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.

Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.

Or maybe ‘woman’ is a bit too generous…

It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.

And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.

There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.

But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.

“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”

“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”

Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”

“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.

You decide against it.

To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”

At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.

“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”

“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”

And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.

“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”

“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”

“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”

“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”

“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”

“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.

Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.

Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.

You brace yourself with bated breath.

He flashes you a modest smile.

“It’s a deal, then.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses | @junehasnotbeenfound @sugalarity @haechansbbg @sikuthealien @reiniella3 @ita606 @xoxoblueyy @mutsu422 @eyesforbkg @kalulakunundrum @venus-xxoo @lemuhr @pinkpantheris @ashers-playpen @bakugouswh0r3 @certaindreampost @3ve88 @tsumuus @4acoffee @anonymity-222 @lousypotatoes | @matchat3a @harryzcherry @h0nestly-though @cc1306 @gold24fish @bakukags @zennypiee @wannabewolf @kameko-ko @lovra974 @arc6021 @kooromin @surprisemodafakas @ilovedenk-i @st4ntwic3 @j1tterbugaboo @call-memissbrightside @arael-asuka @bakugosgothhoe

[bwamatoast]

we need more armpit tickling art../nf

so cruel... do we really....

[pinkhairswagtourney]

help a disabled nonbinary lesbian get their life back together

hi everyone. i'm shroom and you've probably seen my posts before. my life is still a shitshow and nothing is coming together like it should. can't find a job, can't save up for a car, can't save up to escape this abusive household. bare necessities like food and medication and doctor's appointments take every last cent that i have. i'm also dealing with c0vid right now and it's kicking my ass completely; i've spent the better part of the last two weeks laying in my bed. i can't even complete commissions my energy is so low.

please help me. i'm hungry, and i'm tired, and i can't do this on my own. i don't have IRLs to help me like most people do. please send a few dollars my way or spread this post or commission me, anything so that i can move forward instead of sitting still and rotting away

commissions post p-yp-l c-sh-pp k-fi

[xoluvx]

Smut prompt 13.

being snowed in together and fucking in front of the fireplace 

b.eilish no.1

being snowed in together and fucking in front of the fireplace 

this isn't what you had planned when you decided to get away for the weekend. it was going to be peaceful and calm and relaxing. you weren't supposed to have gotten snowed in with no electricity and no way of getting home safely. you were freaking out. pacing back and forth almost pulling your hair out. billie, on the other hand, had remained completely calm. while you tried warming up water, she had fixed a fire and laid out all the blankets she could find.

"come here," she whispered coming up behind you, turning off the stove. her hand wrapped around your waist so tenderly. her voice so soft in your ear you almost forgotten where you were. she led you to the nest she'd created and your body relaxed upon feeling the heat rush to your face. she got under the blankets holding them up for you as you shimmied next to her contently.

when she wrapped her arms around your body you felt so calm and peaceful. every last piece of worry melted from your body as she held you. as your limbs tangled and your bodies turned to face one another. it was just her and her warmth. just you and your lips inching closer until they were touching. until your heart was fluttering. every time you kissed it felt like the first and this was no different. you just felt so safe.

you hummed when her hand traveled under your shirt. skin still cool to the touch but instantly warming the higher it reached until she was cupping your breast. you pushed your chest forward wanting to feel more of her. her hands were fire on your skin as her fingers curled around the bottom of your shirt pulling on it until you were kneeling in front of her and lifting your arms. articles of clothing came tumbling down on the blankets as your hungry lips connected. tongues wet and firm as you fought for dominance.

she pushed your body back ultimately winning the battle. hand brushing up your thigh as you hummed in her mouth. fingers parting your folds as you whimpered now raising your hips. you clung to her shoulders bringing her down closer. wanting her so close you could hardly breath or move or think. when her middle finger entered your pussy you moaned, sloppily kissing her lips. too wrapped up in pleasure to focus on anything more than the second finger entering and her thumb circling your clit.

"right here," your voice cracked as you breathed in her ear. as she swayed her hips against your thigh. as you shut your eyes and dug your nails into her back; burying your face in her neck. lips wet on her skin. you opened your legs wider. pressing your leg on her pussy as she fucked herself on your thigh. as the pace of her fingers grew faster and her breathing grew heavier.

this is all you needed. just your body burning under your girlfriend's weight. her face so full of pleasure as it burned bright in the fire. fire scorching your insides as you threatened to cum all over her fingers. you were so close, but you were no where near being done.

prompt list

[spiderziege]

BdoubleO’s crescent moon base? Or Pearl’s season 9 alien-scape?

cant believe ive never drawn this one before

[simplified-birds]

Simplified bird #51 - sun conure

( requested by @nintendocrowbro )

[novelbear]

"maybe you'll feel it, too" -best friends to lovers prompts

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

lingering hugs and stares

"you know i'm always going to be there for you, right? always."

compliments that are borderline (sometimes just blatant) flirting but they cover it up as just being a really supportive friend

^ "you sure this looks fine?" "trust me, you look fine as hell..."

being overly protective of the other (especially when it comes to relationships)

showing displays of affection that might seem questionable to others around them (ex. kissing each other on the cheek/ hands)

hand placement when hugging or guiding them also being a little more on the questionable side

"i'm always thinking about you."

being unable to tear their eyes off of them, especially when watching them excel at something they're best at

sharing clothes

"why are you looking at me like that?"

unconsciously including them in conversation when they're not even around

"there's no one else that makes me laugh the way you do."

noticing them blushing coincidentally after making a comment. but they can't be blushing because of what they said. they wouldn't. would they? no, of course not...right?

holding hands and neither of them knowing when (or wanting to) let go

when that realization hits that they really wouldn't rather spend their time with anyone else the way they do with their "best friend"

rambling on and on and on and wait are they looking at my eyes or my lips?

"if we were dating i'd take you to all the best places.." "what's stopping you?" "excuse me."

"can i kiss you?" "you have no idea how long i've waited to hear you ask that."

the relief that washes over both of them when the feelings are finally out there

"why didn't you tell me?" "the same reason you didn't tell me. i didn't want to lose you."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Very

Very—to a high degree; exceedingly; exact, precise

Absolutely - completely or totally

Astonishingly - causing a feeling of great surprise or wonder

Astronomically - enormously or inconceivably large or great

Awfully - informal: exceedingly great

Certainly - in a manner that is certain; indisputably

Chiefly - most importantly; principally, especially

Considerably - large in extent or degree

Decidedly - free from doubt or wavering

Distinctly - presenting a clear unmistakable impression

Especially - used as an intensive

Exceedingly - to an extreme degree

Exceptionally - to an exceptional degree; more than average or usual

Extremely - to an extreme extent (i.e., existing in a very high degree)

Incontestably - not contestable; indisputable

Incredibly - in an incredible manner; extremely

Indubitably - too evident to be doubted; unquestionable

Inordinately - exceeding reasonable limits; immoderate

Largely - to a large extent; mostly, primarily

Notably - in a notable manner; to a high degree

Obviously - as is plainly evident

Particularly - to an unusual degree; in particular; specifically

Profusely - exhibiting great abundance; bountiful

Really - truly, unquestionably—used as an intensifier

Recognizably - to perceive clearly

Significantly - to a significant degree (i.e., of a noticeably or measurably large amount)

Strikingly - attracting attention or notice through unusual or conspicuous qualities

Substantially - being largely but not wholly that which is specified

Surprisingly - to a surprising degree (i.e., something unexpected or unusual)

Tremendously - to a great or tremendous extent; extremely

Uncommonly - unusual; remarkable, exceptional

Unquestionably - not questionable; indisputable

Unequivocally - in an unequivocal manner (i.e., clear, unquestionable)

Unmistakably - not capable of being mistaken or misunderstood; clear

Vastly - to a very great or vast degree or extent; exceedingly

Wonderfully - in a way or to an extent that is extremely or unusually good or pleasing

More: Word Lists

[cosmophoriia]

"i made it so obvious" : angry love confessions. 𝜗𝜚

ღ request from: @inlovewithpandora. Prompt request for angry love confession where character b is oblivious and doesn’t realize that character a has a crush on them and character a gets fed up with character b acting clueless so while character b is talking to them about their love life character a blurts out their feelings

"how can you not know, i made it so obvious!" "clearly, you didn't make it that clear!"

“i’ve had feelings for you for so long.”

“it’s a bit frustrating to how oblivious you are.”

“how did you not notice, i always flirted with you.”

“you deserve someone who would treat you right.” “who might that be?” “… how about me?”

“i’m right in front of you.”

character b going on and on about how they never find someone and character a is just looking at them ready to snap.

“you just got to be fucking kidding me, right?”

“are you messing with me?” “no, why would you think that?” “because i gave you all the signs to me liking you and you haven’t notice one bit.”

“why are you so clueless?”

“did you ever stop and think that maybe just maybe the person you’re looking for is me?”

character a choosing to ignore character b for a while after b goes out on a tinder date and b is so confused on why a been avoiding them.

^ “did i do something wrong?”

“what do i have to do or say for you to notice that i’m in love with you?”

“everyone knew but you!”

character a having to hear character b talk about the sweet gifts that character c claimed they sent reader.

^ "they didn't send you those gifts, i did!"

"wait... you're in love with me?"

"why do you care!" "because i’m in love with you!"

"you claim to know everything about me but you never noticed that i’ve feelings for you, not even once?”

[guardian-angle22]

911: Lone Star | Owen & Carlos ↳ for @paperstorm

[donelywell]

If requests are on the table, what about this: Sonic and Tails relaxing after a long day.

August 20 2024

Doodle Request #38!

Being completely wiped from a long fight with Eggman, they were too tired to cook. So they ordered take out.