#amuse free distribution

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

@batboysappreciationweek Day Six — Jan 17th

𝑺𝒐𝒍𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: me once again not naming reader's and Rhysand's children, or Cassian's and Nesta's daughter — oopsies. Also forgot my original plan halfway through, so there's probably a couple inconsistencies

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.2K

“Happy birthday, Feyre.” You murmured with a soft smile, giving your dear friend a one armed hug, as the other arm was cradling an infant. Your daughter. 

She offered a small smile, carefully returning the hug, her free hand coming up to caress your daughter's cheek gently. “Thank you. . . I hope you and Rhys didn't do too much this year.” 

You gave her a knowing look and hummed softly, the twinkling fae lights glimmering in your eyes like captured starlight. “We did what you asked. Nothing elaborate. I promise.” You smiled, hearing the three Illyrian males arrive from their traditional Solstice escapades. 

“Where's your son?” Feyre asked after a few moments of silence, finally pulling away from the hug to look at you. 

“The last I saw, Elain took him to decorate the sugar cookies.” You replied with an air of amusement, just as the door opened. Rhysand kicked the snow off his shoes at the door before entering, heading straight for you. 

“Ah, two of my favorite ladies right here.” He crooned, cupping your cheeks with his cold hands, making you shiver slightly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Happy Solstice, darling.” He muttered against your lips.

“Happy Solstice, Rhys.” You murmured in return, pressing one more kiss to his lips before you pulled back and gave him a look. 

“Go warm your hands up.” Your gaze traveled to Azriel and Cassian next. “All three of you. Now. . . We'll open gifts once the three of you are warm, and once the kids are finished decorating cookies with their Aunt Elain.” 

“Yes ma'am.” Rhys smirked, kissing your forehead and your daughter's before he sauntered off with Cassian and Azriel following close behind. 

You watched in amusement as Cassian slipped into the kitchen, presumably to check in on the progress of the cookies, and snag a couple to hold over until the large dinner you helped prepare.

Within minutes, every male in the house was beckoning everyone to the living room. . . Well, every male except Azriel and Lucien. 

When you entered, Rhysand was practically holding your son back from the large pile of presents where he could clearly see his name written on several gifts wrapped in shimmering blue paper. 

Cassian and his daughter looked just as excited, Nesta's pointed look being the only thing that was keeping both her husband and daughter from pouncing on the gifts beneath the thoroughly decorated tree. 

“Uncle Lucien to the rescue.” The male with fire-red hair hummed quietly as your daughter reached her tiny, chubby hands towards him. 

You passed her over to him with a small smile, listening as he quietly spoke to her, declaring himself as the favorite uncle. A title he and Cassian were unknowingly fighting over. 

You quickly settled on Rhysand's lap. The arm that wasn't actively being used to hold your son back, wrapped around your waist and his lips pressed gently against your shoulder. 

“Release the terrors.” He murmured in amusement as he finally let your son go, the boy immediately going for the gifts marked with his name.

You laughed softly and Cassian snorted, standing from the couch just in time for his daughter to slide to a stop in front of her gifts that were wrapped in silver, marked with her name. 

The two older children began tearing into the presents, Cassian going around and distributing the other wrapped gifts to the adults in the room, before settling back on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the couch with his fingers tracing lazy circles on Nesta's shoulder. 

Azriel sat in an armchair, watching the scene with love for the two excited children swirling in the depths of his hazel irises. The corner of his lips twitched imperceptibly, threatening a smile when your son's gasp of glee met his ears, followed quickly by the squeal of excitement from the girl. 

They had both opened his gifts at the same time.

Rhysand let out a low whistle when your son held the gift up towards you and your mate, flashing a bright grin as if he had just won the jackpot. 

He may as well have. 

Both children got daggers that were currently fake, but they would shift to be the real deal as their skills improved. The gift had been cleared with both sets of parents, several times before they were even purchased. 

“What do you say to your uncle Azzie?” You mused, flashing a grin at the Shadowsinger who momentarily looked annoyed at the use of the nickname, before both children yelled out thank you's. 

It didn't take long for the children to open their gifts. The completion of that part then prompted the adults to open their gifts. 

You hid a smirk as you knew the chaos that was about to ensue when the Illyrian males opened the gifts from you, Feyre, and Mor. 

Mor hid her grin behind the mug of spiked eggnog she was sipping on, while Feyre was struggling to hold back a laugh. 

“The three of you have to open these ones together.” You tapped the bottom box in Rhysand's lap that was wrapped in red, as you shifted to sit on the floor, somewhere between Feyre and Mor, to watch the moment from the best seat in the house. 

Identical boxes sat in Cassian's and Azriel's laps. 

Rhysand raised his eyebrows and shifted the boxes so the one on the bottom of his pile was now on top.

You and your two closest friends watched with bated breaths as they opened the gifts. 

It was amusing to watch their reactions shift from confusion to shock, and then amusement or, in Azriel's case, a look that screamed ‘what did I do to deserve this?’

You couldn't hold back your laughter as Rhysand and Cassian held up what had been in the boxes, Azriel reluctantly following behind with a sigh. 

Each male held up a pair of identical black lounging pants, though each pair was different in their own way. Each pair had their names on the ass in silver glitter. 

Cassian set down his three unopened gifts and practically ran out of the room, returning a few minutes later, proudly wearing the pants that had been gifted to him. 

You laughed harder, your legs subconsciously crossing as you leaned up against Mor's chair, so you didn't fall over. 

“Yeah, jokes on you little Miss High Lady, I love them.” Cassian struck a pose, pointing at you. Practically the whole room bursted out into laughter. 

“Good!” You managed to get out as you finally began to calm down. “Oh, gods.” You chuckled, wiping the tears of laughter from your cheeks. 

“I'll give you your gift later.” Rhysand announced casually with a sly smirk in your direction.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach involuntarily, though you raised your eyebrows, your gaze subtly shifting between your two children, before your attention landed back on your mate. 

“Ah. . . The gift that keeps on giving.” You laughed softly. 

His smirk broadened; Cassian let out a low whistle. 

One Solstice a few years back, that very same gift resulted in the conception of your son. . . The same gift on Starfall the year prior resulted in the conception of your daughter.

So it was, indeed, the gift that kept on giving. 

[wyvernest]

tú eres mi vida

( part 1) (next part)

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: a lot of fluff, suggestiveness, foreplay?

summary: with the opportunity of a surprise, miguel makes the most of your honeymoon

He walked away from the hammock with you, hanging over his shoulder, ass in the air, making sure to keep a large hand over it, both to conceal you from wandering eyes and to grope at the plump flesh every now and then.

All you're seeing is the beaten path through the shore's sand and the junction between the beach and the hotel's green gardens. He skips the alley leading to your room, your eyes widening in amusement. You know he's good with directions, as long as you're talking about the spider-verse. Otherwise, in the blissful comfort of your honeymoon, you may have caught him further away from the stoic, attentive leader he's gotten used to being.

"Miguel, baby, you missed it. It's that way." you giggle lightly, tapping his lower back, careful enough not to make him feel bad. The last thing you want to do is blow off his mood.

"I know." His tone is confident, teasing. Your chuckles are silenced abruptly at the reply, utter perplexity taking over you. All the places and facilities around the resort flash through your head one by one, none fitting for what you were intending to do. And you haven't discussed love-making in seawater yet, either.

"Where are we going then?" you inquire, after throughout accession of all possibilities.

"Paciencia, cariño. It's a surprise." He reveals, full of pride and excitement, voice lowered and playful. You shiver, gripping into his waist to support your upper body and look around, scanning for said surprise.

He gets to the entrance of the private beach, still not stopping. With a sudden jump, he hops on the pier, your weight secure over his shoulder. You can't deny the wetness gathering in your panties at the thought of how effortlessly he carries you around, showing everyone that you're his, and most importantly, that he's about to make the most of it.

You watch the waves crashing softly against the darkened wood of the pier, clear and cold. You feel the breeze blow up over your bare thighs, shivering. He runs a hand over the exposed skin, up underneath the fabric of your flimsy skirt, stopping shy of the small mound of your cunt. You squirm slightly, needing his touch up higher, but he retracts his wandering hand and tightens his grip over you.

Finally, he reaches the water bungalows. Small huts connected by piers in a web-like distribution. Your eyes fixate on the king-size bed sheltered by wooden walls on all sides, except for the one facing the sea. Open and free, white curtains flowed by the bed frames, carried on the wind's wings like sails on a ship.

His knees hit the bed before he lays you down on the soft, clean, white mattress, his back facing the open view. You shift under his shadow, scurrying back towards the bed frame, watching him crawl over to you, slow and methodical.

He grabs your ankles faster than the time it would’ve taken you to escape and rile him up further, pulling you under him so that he’s straddling your hips, holding you in place. You lift yourself on your elbows, attempting to move your legs out of the cage, gazing up at him.

“What d’you think?” He asks, toying with the elastic of your skirt.

“I’ve never been happier.”

You drop your head back down on the bed, having stopped fighting the impossible hold he’s forced you in, between his muscular thighs. He smiles sweetly, satisfied with himself.

“It’s been almost impossible to find one of these available. But now that I have you here,”, he bends down, an inch away from your face. His hot breath fans your mouth, and you take it all in, the scent of him, the fresh bedding, the sea breeze. Your eyelids fall heavy, and he closes the gap between you, kissing you slowly, unhurriedly, like you have all eternity to spend together in paradise, and you’re just getting started. And maybe that’s exactly what it is.

You taste his lips, strawberry sweet and ever loving, feeling your eyes roll back at the sensation. He cups your face with one hand, holding you from fainting, and you let him lead. You feel his body move against yours, yearning to be closer and closer. His happy trail rubs onto your stomach, skin to skin. Every ridge of his defined abdomen pushes down onto you, chest rising and falling with each breath.

Struggling to keep up with the kiss, you sense his hands drift lower, to your waist, and you flinch ever so slightly, muscle memory kicking in. You mentally pray that he won’t–

And he does. He resumes his earlier attack, tickling you and abusing all the sensitive and funny spots he knows so well.

You scream through the uncontrollable laughter, fragments of his name that he otherwise hears in a different context, but which he adores nonetheless. His grip loosens momentarily, and you slip away like a cobra in desert sand. Before you can manage to get up and make a run for it, he grabs onto your skirt, his talons ripping through the material, leaving you in your shirt and panties. You protest, but he’s quick to drag you back on the bed. He laughs wholeheartedly, pinning you to the white sheets. You’re more than certain that the racket can be heard from miles away, but you couldn’t care less.

In an attempt to shield yourself, you bring your arms to your sides, tears already rolling down your eyes as you’re running out of breath and energy. He stops, and squeezes his thighs around your waist. You’re not leaving.

As he gathers the white sheets, pulling them over you both, you try to ignore the weight of his half-hard cock that’s now resting on your midriff. Or not.

You run your hands up his burly thighs, over his hip bone and up his abdomen, feeling the muscles ripple with his movements. He gives you a knowing look, bringing the sheet over his head, trapping you in a semi-transparent cocoon.

“Who’s gonna see us? The fish?”, you manage to say, feeling the remnants of an explosive giggle kick back in right after you’ve calmed down.

“I’m not taking any chances. There are speedboats.” he mumbles, as he adjusts above you.

“They’re not allowed so close to the-” he cuts off the rest of the sentence, slamming his lips onto your once again, and just like earlier, he has you melting in his arms in no time. It’s almost embarrassing how he manages to surf you through emotions so quickly and effortlessly, but you blame it on the beauty of being utterly and irrevocably in love. His lips move against yours with expert ease and precision, stopping every now and then to breathe, barely breaking away, as your exhales mix together in desperation and fascination.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist, basking in the heat of his body radiating down on you. A groan reverberates in his chest at the action, resulting in him moaning in your mouth.

You continue to make out in the cool shade of the bungalow, sheltered from the blazing July sun, and every second you feel like it’s the first time again, butterflies in your stomach, heart about to burst.

When he finally parts from you, chest heaving, eyes half lidded, you feel as if you’ve been cut from a lifeline. He moves to your flushed cheeks, the kisses are open-mouthed and slow.

“Te amo. Tu eres mi alma”, he kisses below your temple, “mi corazón-”, he moves to your jaw and right below it, “-mi vida.”

He licks at your neck, kissing the sensitive skin with insistence, pressing himself closer to you.

“Y siempre lo serás.”

link to part one!

translations:

paciencia - patience

tú eres mi alma - you are my soul

y siempre lo serás - and always will be

a/n: ill do a part 3 i actually love this whole honeymoon idea:) i hope its at the very least a bit original with the bungalow and all that

ALSO if you're a native latin spanish speaker please correct me im here to learn and write him as well as i can<3

+thank you everyone for the AMAZING feedback ive received for the first part!! i really hope you like this one and the next just as much

taglist:

@cooch1ecruncher @nvkdjnvjkd @tsukkie-daisuke @noahspector

(it won't let me tag everyone, sorry if i missed you)

[lunarsturniolo]

Body Shots | Frat!Chris

Not in the same universe as Pillow Talk Chris. Just another Frat!Chris au lol

Thank you @querenciasturniolo for proofreading!! This is longer than most of my fics, and there was no way I'd be able to properly check for mistakes.

I nod slightly, my fingers fidgeting with the button of my pants, “You gotta stop moving,” he says, making me still. 

He hums a nod at my obedience, his mouth widening into a smile, “Look at you,” he says, “So pretty.” 

My hand starts twitching again, a sign of excitement. Chris gently takes my wrist with his free hand and holds it down at my side, “You gotta stop.”

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I nodded again. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Chris nods, “It’s okay. Just stay still,” he teases.

or

Chris teaches Y/N how to take body shots (and it escalates)

Warnings: alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), praise kink if you squint, cnc if you don’t read carefully. MDNI

Masterlist

“Hi,” I gave a sweet smile over the bar, “Can I please have another shot of tequila?”

Chris was working the bar today. After an overwhelming Wine Wednesday and a slightly unsuccessful mixer on Thursday, he didn’t want to go too overboard at the party his frat was hosting. So, there Chris was, working behind the makeshift bar, pouring shots and distributing Truly’s to the girls who were still there. 

It was nearing 3 am, and the crowd was beginning to die down. Chris overheard my request and nudged the other bartender, “Got it,” he said, effectively switching places with him. 

Chris leans over the bar, his left forearm resting in a few drops of alcohol as he leans closer to me, “You gonna let me take one with you?” 

I look up at him with an innocent smile, “It’s gonna cost you.” 

He barks a laugh in my direction, “You’re literally in my house,” he says. 

I nod, “I am.”

“So you should be giving me somethin’.”

I give Chris a long look and leave a pregnant pause, “I might be open to something.”

Chris pushes himself off the bar and disappears into the kitchen. I take the moment alone to look around the house. I spotted my friend Kylie, whom I lost to a group of girls about 10 minutes ago when No Hands started playing. With a bit of flair, I watch as the DJ starts to play Sexy Bitch, “How fitting,” Chris says, finding his way back to the counter. 

I roll my eyes with a small smile playing on my lips, “What do you want?” 

“Wanna do body shots?” he asks with a smirk playing on his lips. He holds up his right hand. He was still carrying the bottle of Jose Cuervo. But now, in the palm of his hand, I see a lime peeking out. 

My smile falters slightly, “I’ve never done a body shot.”

“Has anyone done one off of you?” He asks. 

I shake my head, Chris’s eyes widening with amusement. “First time for everything,” he mumbles. He reaches under the bar, producing a wild berry Truly and passing it to a girl behind me that I hadn’t noticed. 

“Who said I wanted to do a body shot?” I tease. 

Chris shrugs, “You want to do one. I know you.” 

I fold my lips in on themselves, “Okay. Teach me.”

He smiles victorious. “Do you wanna get on the counter?”

I look around once again. The room, by far, isn’t crowded, but there are people here you know you’re going to see again. 

“Do I have to?” I finally ask, “It’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?” Chris deadpans. 

“Because everyone can see me.”

“Who the fuck cares?” Chris says, “Now get on the counter, or I’ll spread you out myself.”

I decide it’s in my best interest to get on the counter. I step up into the kitchen before hoisting myself up onto the counter. Chris tells me to lie down, so I oblige. I can feel remnants of the bar from the night staining my bare skin and weighing down my hair. I cringe slightly at the thought before turning to look at Chris, my cheek resting on the cool surface of the bar. 

“So, there are two routes I could go,” Chris begins, “I could pour this into your belly button and take the shot out of there, or I could just use a shot glass and call it a day.” 

My eyes widened, “Yeah, can we do the second one?” 

With a chuckle, Chris nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinkin’, too.” 

He turns around and quarters the lime over the sink. He reaches across the bar, hovering a lime wedge over my face. He taps it gently against the parting of my lips, “Open up for me, yeah?”

I nod and widen my mouth, softly biting into the lime, a bit of juice rolling into the back of my throat, “Good girl,” he commends. 

I roll my eyes, a slight mumble emitting from the back of my throat due to the lime I’m holding, “Shut up,” I tell him.

Chris gently guides my hands down to my sides and nudges my hip, “Can I lift this up a little?” 

I hum a reply, the lime starting to become a proper hindrance. Chris gently tugs at my shirt, making me arch my back so he can lift it to my breasts. My hands itch at my side as he plants a series of wet kisses, making a line from right under my belly button to the waistband of my pants.

A blush forms on my cheeks as his nose nips under my pants, raising the waistband slightly and giving him a view of the black lace panties I had worn to the frat tonight. 

He reaches for the salt behind him, grabs a small pinch of it, and sprinkles it over the slight sheen of saliva that is left behind. “Squeeze my hand if you want to stop,” he tells me, putting my hand in his. 

Using his free hand, he grabs a small orange glass and flips it upright. He laxly pours a double shot of tequila into the glass, watching me wither under his gaze. 

My right hand landed on my stomach, tapping a pattern next to the line of salt, trying my best not to make a mess around me. The music is still going, and I’m sure Kylie is about to text me, telling me she found a guy to go home with. Chris is still distributing drinks to the girls who are coming up to the bar, and I’m sitting with a ball of anticipation in my stomach.

He returns to me with a shy smile, “Sorry, mama, I’m here for real.”

I nod slightly, my fingers fidgeting with the button of my pants, “You gotta stop moving,” he says, making me still. 

He hums a nod at my obedience, his mouth widening into a smile, “Look at you,” he says, “So pretty.” 

My hand starts twitching again, a sign of excitement. Chris gently takes my wrist with his free hand and holds it down at my side, “You gotta stop.”

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I nodded again. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Chris nods, “It’s okay. Just stay still,” he teases. 

He gives me one last look before leaning down, his tongue making contact with my stomach. I flinch at the contact, slightly unexpecting, and Chris looks up at me through his eyelashes. 

I drink in the sight of him, remembering every detail as his hands push me down against the table. His hair has fallen over his eyes, the dark ringlets tickling my stomach with his painfully slow movements. 

Chris lets go of my left wrist, his hand taking hold of the shot he poured. My newly free hand moves without thought, entangling itself into his hair, tugging his further up my body in anticipation. 

He hums out a moan with a taunting smile on his face as his tongue dips into my belly button, lingering for an extra moment. The salt sticks to his tongue as he brings the shot glass up to his lips, wrapping them around the glass before quickly throwing his head back. His jaw flexes as he stretches his neck, and I watch as his Adams Apple moves as he swallows. 

Chris squeezes my hand as he swallows the bitter flavor, his lips coming down for mine to grab the lime. In a moment of weakness, I suck the lime further into my mouth so he has no choice but to graze my lips with his. 

As anticipated, Chris’s lips make lingering contact with mine. His tongue pokes out and wedges itself beneath my lip and into my mouth, grabbing the bottom of the lime and pushing it into his mouth. 

Moving back slightly, I keep him from moving any further with a hand in his hair. With hooded eyes, he looks at me as he bites into the lime, some of the juice falling into my mouth and some of it dripping down his chin in a sensual manner. 

He turns his head slightly, silently asking to move. I let go of his hair, and he turned his head, spitting the lime out of his mouth and onto the kitchen floor. He looks at me with a smile, “Do you still want your shot?” 

“Will it also be a body shot?”

“Whatever you want,” He tells me. 

I pull his hand in between us, guiding his ear to my lips, “What I want is to go to your bedroom.”

Chris looks at me, “Beg me.” 

“Please, Chris, I wanna go to your room.”

He smirks, “Again,” he tsks. 

I roll my eyes in annoyance, “I’m not begging.” 

“Then you’re not getting in my room,” he replies. 

I leave a long pause before letting out a big sigh, “Please, babe? Can you take me to your bedroom?”

He hums in acceptance, “What do you wanna do in the bedroom, mama?” 

I look at him and swallow harshly, “I want you to touch me.”

“But what do you want to do?”

My voice wavers into a whisper, “I want to take a shot off you,” I tell him. 

“Mmmm, that’s a good girl,” Chris says, “Always telling me what you want.” 

I blush, and Chris moves away to start cleaning up the kitchen. I see him gather a new shot glass, a lime, and some salt before helping me off the counter with a hand on the small of my back. 

Together, we walk towards the staircase that’s slightly blocked off- he keeps a hand on the small of my back, nodding a slight hello as we pass his friends. 

He lets me in front of him when we get to the stairs, watching my backside as I make my way up, stopping outside his room and waiting for him to unlock it. 

With a quick twist of his wrist, the key had unlocked his door, and he led me into his bedroom, sitting on his bed with his knees apart. I made my way closer to him, standing between his knees and giving him a shy smile.

“Can you take your shirt off?” I ask him. 

He nods, his hands falling to the hem of his henley, pulling it off in a swift motion, “Where do you want me?” he asks. 

I cock my head as I look at him contemplatively, “Maybe just lay down.” 

He nods and does as I say, “Can I, um-” 

“You want me naked?” he asks.

My cheeks turn hot at his words, “Can I take off your pants?” I ask him. 

He laughs at my shy demeanor, “You gotta get naked for me too, then, ma.” 

Without a second thought, I drop my hands to my jeans, fiddling with the button before allowing them to pool at my ankles. His hands find the hem of my shirt, this time, pulling it over my head gently. He rests his hands on my back before letting me unbuckle his belt.

“Chris,” I whine lightly.

“Yeah?”

Instead of replying, I push him down onto his bed. His head stayed propped up by some pillows, and he brought his hands behind his head so he could watch me. The two of us were naked, and I finally decided to let the looks of him sink in. 

His cock was sporting a healthy erection, just as arousal was beginning to pool between my legs- we were clearly both turned on. 

“C’mere,” he says, motioning for me to step towards him. “Wanna see if my baby’s worked up for me.” 

I happily make my way over to Chris’s head, legs spread slightly for him to feel my cunt. Without a moment's rest, the pads of his fingers made their way to my bare skin, feeling the warm, plush skin and rubbing my clit slightly to create some friction. I moan lightly at his touch before he pulls his fingers away and rests them on my bottom lip. 

“You wanna taste yourself for me, mama?” he asks. 

I dip my chin as a nod, his fingers now resting on the parting of my lips. My tongue darts out at his long digits, coating them lightly as I taste myself on his fingers, making Chris moan in appreciation. 

I hollow out my cheeks before taking his fingers out of my mouth, a small smile growing on my face. 

“Gonna use this on my stomach, okay?” he asks, referring to the fingers I had in my mouth seconds prior. 

Wordlessly, I nod as Chris drags his fingers down his happy trail- from the bottom of his belly button to the base of his cock- at an agonizingly slow pace. My eyes watch his fingers desperately as they mimic the exact path my tongue will take. 

I clear my throat, “Salt?” I ask. 

“Yeah, baby. Add some salt.” 

I took the metal salt shaker that made its way onto his nightstand and used it to disperse salt into a thin line along his body. Chris reaches under his bed and produces a bottle of tequila, “From my stash,” he informs me. 

I laugh, filling up a shot glass most of the way, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the thought of taking another double tonight.

I pick up a lime wedge and hand it to Chris. Dismissively, he sets it back on the table, “You won’t need that. Promise,” he tells me, a hand making its way into my hair and pulling me close to his mouth. 

I can feel his breath fanning on my face as I study his eyes up close for the millionth time tonight, “Okay,” I agree. 

Chris hums with satisfaction, “You’re such a good, obedient girl for me, baby. Always listening to me so well.” 

This time, I hum in reply, the praise making me feel extra warm. “I wanna listen to you, Chris,” I tell him. My lips pucker up slightly before placing a small, aromantic peck on his lips.

He smiles at me, “Good idea, baby.” He lets my hair go loosely, allowing me to lean back. “You’re gonna tell me if anything is too much, right?” he confirms. 

“Yeah, Chris. I’ll let you know. You get to use me until I say otherwise.” 

I watch as a satisfying grin spreads on his face, “You’ve always been my favorite girl, you know?” 

With a small laugh, I bring my face down to be level with his naval. He gathers my hair into a makeship ponytail in one hand and holds my shot glass for me in another, “I need to see you, mama.” 

I smile, my tongue darting out to lick my lips, “Okay.” 

Looking at Chris out of the corner of my eye, I bring my tongue to the beginning of the line of salt, licking slowly down to the base of his cock. My left-hand finds his balls, fondling with them lightly as I make my way down to his cock. 

He lets out a moan, “When you get there, keep your tongue out, baby. I wanna feed you your shot.” 

I turn my head towards him, giving him a slight nod, my tongue still working its way down his body. Giving the base of his cock a light kiss, I tilt my head up for Chris to pour the shot. 

Feeling the alcohol glide down my throat immediately, without the need to swallow or for a chase, made me gag lightly. I closed my mouth, savoring the flavor of salt on my tongue before Chris moved my head. 

Directing me down further to where his cock is, he rests my cheek on his left thigh. My tongue darts out, lapping around the base of his cock as my hand continues to play with his balls. 

“That’s right, baby,” he praises me, “You can get up on the bed if you want.” 

With a nod, I crawl up onto the bed, my mouth moving from the base to the tip. 

I begin slowly licking the tip, watching the precum develop, and swallowing it as it comes. With a keen fascination, I loosen my jaw and begin to put his cock into my mouth. 

Chris lets out a groan, “Fuck.” He reaches around his body, one hand finding my breasts. He rolls my nipple between his fingers and fondles my breasts, eliciting a soft moan from the back of my throat and around his tip.

I continue to push his cock into my mouth before I gag lightly and call it my limit. My hand jerks off what is left outside my mouth, and Chris begins to lose it. 

His hands are tugging at my hair, and he is gently pushing my head forward onto his cock, loving the way my throat closes around the tip when I gag. Chris was in a state of euphoria. 

“You good, mama?” he chokes out, pulling me off his cock slightly for reassurance. 

Instead of verbally answering, I push his cock further into my throat, humming a reply, sending vibrations up through his body. 

My tongue flatted against the underside of his cock, my head moving faster as I prompted Chris to fuck my mouth. His thrusts grew from wary to forceful as I began to gag, drool, and moan around him with each movement he made. 

Tears grew at the brim of my eyes from the intensity, “Do you like it when I’m rough with you, mama?” 

Unable to reply, I affectionately squeeze his thigh, “I know, baby. It feels so good to please me, huh?” he says. His hand leaves my nipple, entangling it into my head roughly so he has more control to ride out his orgasm.

With an especially deep thrust, I let out a long groan, my eyes rolling back slightly with satisfaction. Chris’s cock begins to twitch in my mouth, and I instinctively hollow out my cheeks, sucking harshly on his shaft. 

Chris looks down at me with a smile, “I’m close, mama, I promise. Then I’ll fuck you good as a thank you.”

I nod, my voice significantly hindered by his cock lodged in my throat. With a final few thrusts from Chris and a gargling noise that arose from my mouth, he emptied himself into my mouth with a loud, resonating moan. 

Giving me a minute to recover, he slid his cock out from my mouth and found a water bottle on his nightstand to feed me. 

With a smile, I look at him, “I love having your cock in my mouth.” 

With a small laugh, he rests his hand under my chin, wiping away some cum that didn’t quite make it into my mouth, “I love fucking your mouth, baby.” 

I bite my lip in excitement, allowing him to use me as he chooses one again. 

“Lie down, hmm?” he asks. 

I do as I'm told, taking his spot on the bed as he straddles my body. He leans down towards the mattress, his lips finding my cunt. I can feel his breath fan across my body as he begins to lap his tongue in a circular pattern, hitting each part of my cunt. 

Unceremoniously, his teeth begin to nip at my clit, creating the perfect amount of friction to make me moan out loud- probably loud enough to be heard over the music playing downstairs.

“Chris, please,” I beg.

“What, mama?” he asks, coming up for air with a small pant. His lips were wet and puffy from the time he spent attacking my clit, and I could see a bit of my arousal begin to make its way down his chin. 

“I need you inside me, please,” I whimper. 

Chris hums, sending my hips upward with a jolt. The action makes him laugh, which in turn does not help my squirming, “I’ll get inside ya,” he promises. 

With one last feathery kiss to my clit, he sends a series of kisses up from my naval to my lips. By the time he has reached my lips, there are drops of my cum trailing up my body as a result of my cum dripping off Chris’s chin. 

He leaves a few soft kisses on my lips before I bring his head to mine, holding it there while I nip at his bottom lip. He smiles, sliding his tongue into my mouth and allowing me to take control of the kiss as he adjusts himself against me. 

I feel the tip of his cock poking at my entrance before he slowly buries it into my cunt. I let out a gasp, my jaw falling slack as Chris’s tongue laps at the inside of my mouth, trying to regain my attention. 

“C’mon, mama, I know you can take me,” he tells me. 

“I can take you,” I parrot back. 

“Yeah, baby,” Chris agrees, “You’re doing so good.” 

He stills for a moment, and I look down between us to see his cock has filled me completely, and he’s allowing me a moment to adjust. I grind my hips against him, my clit rubbing against the base of his cock, making both of us groan. 

Looking back up at him, I give him a quick peck of encouragement to start thrusting again. He gently rolls his hips before slowly pulling out and roughly pushing back in. 

He began to make this a rhythmic approach, filling the silence between his skin and slapping on yours with a series of breathy moans and chants of both of your names filling the room. 

Chris kept his mouth atop mine and intertwined our fingers as he continued to fuck me.

My mouth fell open, and I felt my pussy begin to quiver around his large cock. My orgasm was blinding, leaving me gasping and moaning into Chris’s mouth, giving him ammunition to go faster and harder.

With his bed rocking underneath us and the sound of wet skin repeatedly hitting each other, Chris finally released into my tender pussy. 

Pulling out slowly, his hand brought mine to his mouth, leaving feathery kisses on each knuckle. 

“You okay, mama?” he asks, “Do you need me to get you anything?”

With a shrug, I reply, “Can I please have another shot of tequila?”

[itsabouttimex2]

I hope this isn't an odd question

But, do you think Wukong or Macaque would act or treat different their "cub" if they genders were swapped or being a female version? This is also for a Yan behavior

I don't know too much about how is the raising of a monkey from the father and mother so I was curious with this since they're both mystical demons

I was thinking about this when I saw some fanarts from the artist @/car_nimbus on Twitter, they made a neat versions of the characters with another gender

Monkey Mama

(Hmm okay let me build a hypothetical OG “Female Monkey King” to work off of here and then I’ll try to translate that into LMK’s SWK. Also, I’ll probably make a second variation of this afterwards with other characters, haha. This got a little long to do both SWK and Mac!)

Sun Wukong as a character is already heavily defined by rebellion and personal choice, so I think that making him a girl only really compounds that layer of his character.

In many older narratives, female characters are often expected to be more obedient or modest than men, and very frequently only exist as prizes or, more rarely, villains. A female Sun Wukong; assuming she plays the same role as her original incarnation, defies the expectations of how “traditional” women should behave, shirking the demure and passive “ideal” and adding another layer of rebellion to her character.

(JTTW is actually pretty great in terms of female representation, with characters ranging from the perpetually good Quanyin, the eventually repentant Princess Iron Fan, and the straight up evil White Bone Spirit. I’m a big fan of how the women aren’t slid into any one “role” throughout the story.)

I think: in story, she’d likely be viewed as a sort of “anomaly”—a woman too strong, too outspoken, and too unwilling to conform to typical feminine ideals. Her defiance and arrogance might be viewed as even more scandalous by the Celestial Realm.

Instead of being made a “stable-keeper”, I think probably she’s sent to whatever Heavenly Scullery exists in that divine realm, and put to work very quickly. She would treat this “job” with indifference or even amusement at first-after all, physical labor or menial tasks don't diminish her self-worth or confidence! She’s had a life of hard work, leading an army of Yaoguai, cultivating Flower Fruit Mountain,

So she’s fine with this… at first. Then it turns out that the food she makes with her fellow low-class workers isn’t distributed amongst the people making it, but plated up nice and pretty for a bunch of “stuffy old gods” who didn’t lift a finger! Bullshit!

So obviously, the prideful Monkey Queen goes on a destructive rampage in regards to the unfair disparity of treatment, then storms back down to Earth to throw a “feel-better” party with her fellow Yaogaui.

(Which isn’t just a party, but a symbolic reclaiming of joy and community, with her monkey tribe representing the freedom she craves and the earthly bonds she prefers over heavenly authority. It's not just an escape, but a statement of independence.)

After an extensive set of repairs, the Court sends down someone to drag her back, because, you know, the local super-powered monkey is back on the loose, and that’s not exactly great for them. This time, they offer her a “better” role- she gets to become an official Peach Maiden, lucky her!

Of course, it’s just another form of entrapment, but within a prettier cage. Even though she's given a cushier position, it's a veneer- she's still being silenced, controlled, and stripped of her freedom. The role played by a Peach Maiden is an inversion of Wukong's essence, as these women are happily serving the role of passive caretakers, nurturing with gentle smiles—a direct contrast to the free-willed, brash nature of the Monkey Queen.

(And while there’s nothing wrong with being demure, passive, and feminine, having people try to force her into that role is where Sun Wukong draws her line.)

Here, she is expected to watch in silence as others revel in the freedom and power denied to her. It's a different kind of prison, one that quietly erodes her spirit. When the Celestial Court tries to reintegrate her as a Peach Maiden, they are once again attempting to place her into a docile, decorative role, one that strips away her power and independence. Those immortal peach orchards, a symbol of immortality and divine favor, becomes a prison for her.

Surrounded by "ideal" women who embody the quiet, submissive role she despises, the Monkey Queen finds herself chafing under the pressure of conformity. Her energy, once boundless and chaotic, is now caged, and the simmering resentment builds.

The buildup to her inevitable rebellion after being made a Peach Maiden, then, becomes a very sympathetic moment because it's not just a rejection of the role forced on her, but a rejection of the very system that tries to diminish who she is at her core. Her rebellion isn’t about anger and shame- it’s about reclaiming her true self after having been suffocated by the expectations of the Celestial Court. Her rampage becomes an assertion of her identity as something that can't be confined by heavenly rules or social mores.

The Court, in its attempt to “contain" her, only fuels her defiance further, leading her once again to rebel.

It was never going to end well. But it ends all the same, and punishment is to be levied to the Queen, just the same as any other rebellious rule-breaker... actually, probably harsher.

There’s “you broke our rules and tried to lead a coup”, then there’s “you did all that, and we also find your very person to be wrong on a fundamental level”, and then she gets the book thrown at her twice over.

But! Then she meets Tang Sanzang, who sees something in her that neither the Celestial Realm nor her own band of Sworn Brothers saw. Not a heretic simian savaging a holy realm. Not a Queen to rally behind for their own gain.

But a lost soul in need of guidance.

And from there the Great Monk works on building Sun Wukong up as a person instead of leading her astray or trying to cut massive chunks of her personality out? And talks to her about the things she cares about? And teaches her about all the things she missed after spending five hundred years under a rock?

And then she meets Zhu Baije, who starts out a little too happy and carefree about having a beautiful woman around, but eventually comes to smash open heads when Wukong is disrespected, because that’s not just a hot woman, that’s his sister?

Or Sha Wujing, who helps her with even the smallest things, from trimming her claws to cutting her wild hair to preparing meals for the monk? And lets her perch on his shoulders and head so the queen can get some skinship in?

Then Ao Lie, who is every bit the “disappointment to the world at large” that she was considered? And they take turns braiding each other’s hair and wiping the mess from the other’s face, and sleeping in the same tent and same bedroom because it’s less effort?

She gets a dad and three little brothers?

She gets a family.

And then loses it and is alone again for several hundred years more.

So if we go with this theoretical “My natural existence has been rejected for being seen as ‘improper’ by a court of stuffy traditional assholes” and then “I dearly love/miss my dead found family” angle, I think she’d be portrayed as a very different sort of character in LMK.

She’s quicker to lash out and defend herself, and much less willing to sit around and let the world pass her by- because that’s what was demanded of her by the Celestial Realm.

Be good. Be quiet. Be demure. Be obedient. Be anything except you.

I don’t think she’d be as willing to “rest on her laurels” as her canon counterpart, given that a “quiet boring life” was what she had fought so very hard to escape in the first place, so instead of isolating herself from the world in the first place, she probably sets up a little “souvenir shop” at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain, taking a human form to sell little knick-knacks that herald to the journey she undertook with her old friends.

In part, this is how Wukong works to honor them. To spread their legacy. To ensure that they aren’t forgotten, left as a footnote in the annals of history. To remember them.

In part, it’s how she justifies all the mistakes she’s made and the suffering she’s been through. Settling in to a pointlessly relaxed life is exactly what she fought against, after all. She’s heavily fallen into the “sunk-cost fallacy”, where giving up and settling in, to her, means “losing”. It means “everything I went through was all for nothing”. So she keeps at this little store instead of just retiring and isolating herself from the world, even though she’d be happier to ditch it and lounge about.

So when MK and his eccentric bunch of friends comes around with their boundless energy and mischief, she immediately goes, “Oh, okay! This is what I wanted!”

(It’s not. All she’s ever wanted is her friends back. How could there be anything else?)

The Monkie Kids are vibrant, eccentric, and full of qualities that immediately resonate with Wukong. They remind her of the energy, camaraderie, and sense of adventure that she once shared with her old companions. She sees MK's arrival not just as a chance to teach someone a few of her old tricks, but as an echo of her own life—a life she hasn't been able to truly let go of.

So she starts projecting- on the surface, MK is very much like her. He's spirited, good-natured, and curious- and reckless. Just like she was. Wukong latches onto this quickly, sort of using the kid as a proxy for herself. After all, if she can't go back to her old life, why not embrace a new one that feels close enough? In some ways, this marks her refusal to accept the passage of time, a desperate clinging to the hope that, through MK, she can rekindle the connections she once cherished.

However, underneath that initial enthusiasm is the repressed understanding that MK, despite his similarities to her younger self, cannot truly replace what she lost. The friends she fought beside, the battles they waged together, and the lessons they learned are unique, irreplaceable moments in her life. No matter how much MK’s gang reminds her of the past, he and his friends a stand-in for the companions she still longs for. But her deep desire to reconnect with her old friends clouds her ability to see MK for who he truly is: his own person, on his own journey.

It takes her a while to get to that point, though. So she’s more doting and affectionate, in a way that somewhat stifles her student’s training because she wants to be both her old carefree self and also a good mentor, and the two just get jumbled.

Sidenote: I think with the difference in actions and behavior, MK would be more open to viewing Fem!Wukong as a parental figure than the OG, especially since he doesn’t really have someone to fulfill that “mom” role.

For their dynamic, I think something like this would be the outcome:

———————————————————————-

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, painting the landscape in hues of varied orange and blue. With a tired hand, MK wipes the sweat from his brow.

He’s perched on one of the rocky spires dotting Flower Fruit Mountain, gazing at the view with a small smile of accomplishment. Training had been intense lately… if only because he had been doubling down on the time he spent practicing, without giving as much care to rest or aftercare.

After all, even though his powers were blooming steadily… his enemies also were growing in power and quantity, leading to the ever-creeping edge of fear that anything less than a constant one-hundred percent just wouldn’t be “enough”.

And right as he reaches back to grab the golden staff he has inherited from the Monkey Queen-

“MK! I told you to take a break, not run off to do more training!”

Her voice, uncharacteristically sharp, cuts through the formerly tranquil air, causing MK to jump. He turns just in time to see Sun Wukong strolling toward him, her hands on her hips and a look of mock annoyance on her face.

MK grinned sheepishly, shifting his grass-stained boots against the dirt. “I was just, you know… checking out the view.”

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement as her eyes narrowed in annoyance. This kid... “Uh-huh. Checking out the view or sneaking in some practice when I wasn’t looking?”

Caught fast in his lie, MK rubbed the back of his neck, face scrunching up in embarrassment. “Maybe a little of both?”

In spite of herself, Sun Wukong quietly laughs, the sound echoing like a chiming bell through the mountain. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her in the wind, each strand catching the light like molten fire. Despite her legendary status- the rebellious warrior who’d fought the heavens and nearly won!- there was a warmth to her that MK had come to cherish.

“All work and no play, MK,” she said, sitting beside him on the rock and ruffling his hair with a fondness that always made him feel like a little kid again. “You’ll burn out before you get anywhere.”

He looked at her, eyes shining with admiration. “But you never stop training. You’ve been at this for centuries! I just…”

A pause, as his chest turns over, unsettled by the notion of opening up. But… it’s the Monkey Queen. So it.. should be okay, right?

“I want to make you proud.”

Sun Wukong’s expression softens, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy close in a tight embrace. “You already make me proud, kid. You don’t have to prove anything.”

MK leaned into the touch, feeling a wave of comfort wash over him. Even from the start she’d been like this with him- protective, nurturing… and maybe a bit overbearing at times. But he didn’t mind. It made him feel safe, like no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wasn’t alone.

MK chuckled, turning his face up to meet his idol’s eyes.” I’ll keep up,” he triumphantly declares, pumping a fist.” I promise.”

“Good.” Wukong shifted, her clawed hand lightly missing his spiked locks. “Now, how about we head back to the shop and grab something to eat? You’ve earned it.”

MK’s stomach growled at the mention of food, and he nodded so eagerly that she wondered if his head wouldn’t ache from the motion. “You know, I won’t say no to a good meal.”

The Monkey Queen stood up, dusting off her mentee’s clothes before offering him a hand. “Of course you won’t. C’mon, my treat.”

———————————————————————-

Now, to answer your question about how she acts in regards to her own cub… in general I think she’s much more doting than the OG, willing to express herself through constant displays of physical affection, in ways that are far more varied.

Constant forehead smooching, cuddles, grooming sessions, all of it! Mama Wukong never wants to let go of her baby! Sit down and let her paint your nails! Let her comb and braid your hair! Let her make you a nice lunch (loaded with mystical drugs to keep you nice and sleepy for extra cuddles), or at least a filling snack! Let her pepper your face with kisses as she spins you in her powerful arms!

Lots and lots of indulgent fluffy days of binging unhealthy foods and watching cozy reruns of old shows, your head in her lap as she hums and does up your hair with her lazy hands.

Lots of reminiscing about old suitors as she considers the quietest and quickest ways to kill anyone who makes the futile attempt to pursue you in the same way.

Despite her obsessive behavior, Wukong struggles with conflicting feelings about wanting her child to be strong and independent, just like her! She pushes you to train hard and become powerful, but when you inevitably seek their own freedom or autonomy, she’d experience a mix of pride and heartbreak, pushing her deeper into possessive tendencies.

If you ever tried to leave or even just start to break away, Wukong’s worst traits would bubble up like hellfire. Just as she fought against an entire realm’s authority, she would absolutely wage a war to keep her child close, all while justifying her actions as love.

The Monkey Queen is also more willing to take routes outside of brute force if it means securing extra protection for Y/N. If Macaque or maybe Azure (or someone else like Erlang Shen) wants to try and play “suitor”, well, she’s not too interested… until the thought arises that having him around makes you extra safe! And then she’s willing to think on it.

(That’s assuming that you aren’t one of their biological kids to begin with, in which case there might be a sort of “yandere triangle”. Azure/Macaque/Erlang Shen doing his damndest to reclaim his wife, before he learns that she’s had a child while he was gone... or maybe Pigsy and Tang decided that MK needs his mentor in a more ‘accessible’ position, and plot to drag her to Megapolis…)

Lots of potential monkey mama shenanigans, basically!

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗

　　　　　　　　　𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒚𝒍𝒆𝒔 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N loves reading the books Harry buys for her, and Harry loves watching her read.

WARNING: None.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sighed contentedly, making herself comfortable in the armchair she was sitting in the living room of her house, the new book Harry had bought her the day before was open in her hands, her eyes running over the words on the yellowed pages as her head moved slowly to the light beat of the music playing from the record player.

The golden hour sun hit her legs folded against her chest, warming her.

Her attention was so focused on the story that Y/N didn't hear the front door open and close seconds later, much less the sound of keys being hung right next to the entrance and the sound of a bag resting on the floor.

Harry opened a smile when he saw his girlfriend sitting so comfortably in the living room of their house, taking off his Adidas sneakers and placing them against the wall next to the door, walking towards the woman.

Finally, Y/N raised her head in surprise when she felt a presence behind her, looking at Harry and relaxing instantly, closing her eyes when she felt the brunette's lips against her forehead.

"Hello my love, are you enjoying the book?" Harry asked quietly against Y/N's hair, as if he was afraid to speak loudly and burst the bubble they were both in.

"Uhm, the story is super engaging." She responded in the same tone, pushing her head back until she rested it against Harry's chest, which he sighed in appreciation before slowly pulling away.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, do you want some tea?" The singer asked her, taking his cap off his head and beginning his slow walk to the stairs, ready to step into the hot shower.

"Yes, please." Y/N replied with a smile in her voice, turning her eyes back to the book.

A few minutes later, Harry was coming down the stairs again, now wearing only cotton pants and white socks, the smell of soap trailing behind him as he walked towards the kitchen.

His hands, now only wearing the promise ring he shared with his girlfriend, worked on turning on the stove to heat the water while he picked up two small cups with flower designs that Y/N joked that looked like her grandmother's, but secretly loved them.

Harry fetched the tea bags from his favorite brand, distributing them into the two cups, walking to the stove to pick up the kettle that was already whistling, turning off the heat and filling the cups with the right amount, before putting the kettle back in place and picking up the teas carefully, walking slowly to the living room.

Y/N looked up again as she heard Harry approach, seeing her boyfriend place their cups side by side on the coffee table before walking over to Y/N, lifting her into his arms with ease, his muscles momentarily appearing more in his arms, before he sat where Y/N was seconds before and placed her on his lap.

"I still don't know how you can do that." Y/N spoke with an amused expression, looking at Harry's greenish field.

"I train every day so I can treat you like the princess you are." He responded jokingly, making his girlfriend laugh and roll her eyes.

She arranged herself on Harry's thighs, bringing her feet to rest on his knees so that her own thighs were against her chest, the book resting on them and being held upright by one of her hands, while the hand with the painted nails in pink and with the promise ring circled Harry's nape, running her fingers carefully through the hair on there.

Harry raised his left hand so that he held the free side of the book, preventing it from closing, while his right hand rested on her back, drawing small circles in the area. Y/N smiled in gratitude, bringing her face closer to Harry's and planting a lingering kiss on his stubble, enjoying the feeling his small hairs made against her moisturized lips.

"I love you." Harry whispered, enjoying the act of affection.

"I love you more." Y/N responded, pulling away a little just so she could kiss him on the lips lightly, just a touch of lips, exhaling and enjoying the smell of soap and men's shampoo that surrounded him.

The woman backed away a few seconds later, turning her face forward so that she could see the page completely, going back to delve into the story, smiling small when she felt Harry's eyes on her face, analyzing her carefully.

The only sounds filling the room were their light breathing and the melody coming from the record player, which Harry accompanied sometimes, warming Y/N's heart.

This was her home, and she wouldn't trade Harry's arms for anything in the world.

[lightseoul]

prove it

synopsis. bakugou katsuki starts acting differently after your last conversation. you finally arrive at an agreement. (part 1) (part 2)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old), lots of cussing

word count. 3.6k words

a/n. the last part of the series! thanks so much for all the love on the first two parts, everyone! i had such fun writing this <3 again, reblogs, tags, and comments will be highly appreciated!

You barely slept a wink that night.

After that exchange with Bakugou, you immediately left his office, not even bothering to greet his secretary (partly because you couldn’t bear the possibility of her overhearing), and headed straight to your desk.

A feeble attempt at going back to work was made, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you actually got something done.

Even as you commuted your way home and got ready for bed, your brain wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation, lingering especially on his loaded confession.

He still loves you.

What now?

Sadly, just because you're marred by sleep deficit and boy problems doesn't mean you get to miss out on work. You now walk down the hallway of your floor on the way to the break room, desperate to inject some caffeine into your system to get you through the day.

And to help you focus and get your mind off of Bakugou fucking Katsuki, thank you very much.

You’re one foot into the room when it suddenly dawns on you how you consumed the last pod of your favorite brew yesterday (before all the shit went down), which means that you’re now out and caffeine-less.

Fuck.

“Well, don’t you look like shit.”

Mikuri hums from her favorite spot on the sofa, a cup of what you think is green tea in her hands.

“Thanks?” you mumble begrudgingly as you plop yourself across from her, mood growing sourer by the minute.

“What’s up with you?” she sounds amused, a brow quirked in question.

You sigh, smoothing the wrinkle on your blazer you didn’t have the energy to iron out that morning. “Am sleep-deprived and out of coffee. Not everyone can be chipper like you on this fine day, I guess.”

“No, you’re not?”

You sit up, eyes narrowing, “You mean to say I look like shit normally and not just because I didn’t get enough sleep?”

She frowns, “You know that’s not what I mean. What I meant is that no, you’re not out of coffee.”

“Look,” she gestures to the beverage area with her free hand.

Your brows shoot up in response as you take in the freshly stocked shelf.

Weird, you think to yourself.

You were normally the one to restock on that specific flavor, being the only one on your floor who is partial to it.

Unless…

You shake your head to rid yourself of the unwelcome thoughts, willing to crush the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Mikuri doesn’t get the chance to comment on your unusual behavior because the Performance Management head of your HR team pops in through the door, a grin adorning his face.

“Good morning, boss! See you in 15.”

Yamakawa, the Recruitment head, rifles through her documents before standing up to distribute them to you and the other sub-department leads.

She goes around the room to hand you what seems to be a substantial amount of pages, “Here’s the status report on Bakugou’s new sidekick.”

“Already?” you splutter, gaining the attention of your direct subordinates. You straighten up, slightly embarrassed. “I thought they’re just starting today?”

“Yeah, well. We figured you’d want to hear it,” Yamakawa says as she gets seated and goes through her copy.

“Get this,” she continues, “he’s way more cooperative than we predicted him to be. Moriyama-san, or Water Jet Hero: Aqua Girl, is already in his office, discussing—” she glances at the report, “—battle strategies and joint training schedules as we speak.”

The others hum in acknowledgment as you sit there, still struggling to wrap your head around what was just said.

“And no one coerced him to do this?” Tanaka, the Performance Management head, pipes in. You whip to look at Yamakawa, anticipating her answer.

“Apparently, he emailed Moriyama-san yesterday himself to set the meeting.”

Delighted noises erupt across the room as you stare at the Recruitment head in disbelief.

“This is great news, right?” the Socialization head exclaims. “If we’re talking long-term, Bakugou’s workload will definitely lessen with a good sidekick around, meaning we’ll get fewer angry outbursts and a more decent-to-be-around boss!”

You know they’re making sense, and that this is supposed to be amazing news to hear as the HR department head, but you can’t help the tinge of anticipatory dread rising in your gut.

“Why don’t you seem happy?” Tanaka asks you, before turning to the others. “Hey, why isn’t Y/N happy?”

The unusual events don’t end after that.

To your surprise, Bakugou starts to attend meetings that concern him, instead of the usual—letting Kirishima do all the coordinating with you and your department. He’s even offered to help you with your analysis report on his new sidekick (quite awkwardly, at that), which you so quickly and frantically declined in front of everyone.

You suspect your subordinates are starting to deem you as weird, too.

If they only knew.

Regardless, with each passing day, you seem to be seeing more and more of him around the office, and needless to say, it’s messing with your head.

The always-stocked shelf of coffee isn’t helping either.

It’s gotten to the point where it’s starting to affect your sleep as well, with how much you overthink these sudden changes in his behavior.

In an attempt to get your mind off him and the confusing mix of hope and dread circling your stomach, you start to drown yourself in work.

Ah, your ever-trusty friend: avoidance.

You stand by the coffee machine as it does its magic, your foot tapping against the floor impatiently. You glance at the wall clock, which reads 8:01 PM.

You sigh, grabbing the freshly brewed beverage not even a second after the machine dings.

It’s been two weeks since that heated conversation with Bakugou, and one since your self-mandated oath to bury yourself with work, at least until your thoughts get a little bit less muddled and Bakugou stops acting differently.

“You’re still here?”

You startle from your absentminded stirring and look toward the source of the voice.

Speak of the devil.

Seeming as though he’s fresh from a shower, you stare at Bakugou as he stands by the doorway of the break room.

You eye the duffel bag that’s slung over his shoulder.

“You’re leaving already?”

Fuck, you think to yourself. Now you feel like a creep for knowing that Bakugou leaving two hours after his shift is considered early in his dictionary.

And now you feel stupid for answering his question with another question.

What’s gotten into you?

“Yeah,” he answers curtly, not offering much of an explanation. “What’re you doing working overtime?”

You place the mug on the marble countertop and cringe when it makes a loud, clashing noise.

You turn back to face him. “Have to work on the biannual report.” You shrug, as nonchalantly as you can, “It’s due soon.”

Bakugou grunts in acknowledgment, shifting on his feet.

“Well, thank you for your hard work,” he offers. “And for—uh—helping me choose my sidekick.”

Your stomach whirls in delight despite yourself.

You clear your throat, “Again, I was just doing my job.”

At that, he deflates ever so minutely, so you follow it up with: “But you’re welcome. I heard you’re thinking of hiring another one?”

“Yeah, just to help with the workload,” he nods. “I met him yesterday.”

“...You’re right, by the way,” Bakugou adds after a few seconds pass without you saying anything.

“Huh?”

He looks away, breaking eye contact. “I don’t like how similar we are. But he’s good.”

You have no idea how he knew you said that.

Scratch that—it was probably Kirishima.

Damn that meddler.

You clear your throat again in an attempt to change the subject and drop the conversation in its entirety.

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

Bakugou meets your eye again, and for a moment he looks like he’s about to say something, then hesitates.

He opens his mouth ever so slightly before closing it again, eyes still fixed on you, before simply saying: “You too.”

At that, he turns on his heel and trudges towards the elevators.

Once you’re sure he’s out of sight and earshot, you bring your hand up to clutch at your heart, which is going at an alarmingly fast rate.

“Shit.”

You can’t still be in love with him?

“What?!” Mina hops on her feet, almost knocking your glass of iced tea off the table.

“Dude, you’ve got to stop doing that,” you seethe, looking around your go-to café. It’s unusually barren on a Saturday afternoon.

You look back at her, “People stare, you know. And besides, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL?!” she parrots incredulously.

“Just—” you scramble for words, “please sit back down?”

At your pleading tone, Mina finally gets seated, but her pinched eyebrows tell you she’s far from being done with the conversation.

“Fine,” she relents, “but you’ve got some explaining to do, missy.”

You sigh, “Okay. What do I have to explain to you?”

“Wha—” she starts, aghast, “I mean—first of all, why the fuck are you asking me to contact your blind date when three weeks ago, you were practically disgusted with the idea of going on one?”

“We talked,” you shift your eyes away from her. “Bakugou and I.”

Mina snorts.

“Let me guess. You realized you still love him?”

Your head whips to look at her, “Mina!”

“What?” she spits back. “Don’t use that accusatory tone on me.”

“I have the right to use this accusatory tone on you. I have a feeling a certain someone broke her promise about not saying anything about our last conversation with Bakugou.”

At that, Mina visibly cringes.

“In my defense,” she starts, voice raised, “it was only because that cemented how you’re both still into each other!”

You scoff.

“Aren’t you?” she presses, shooting you a pointed look, “Still into him?”

“I—I don’t know okay,” you raise your voice, inadvertently catching a few café-goers’ attention. You sink back into your seat in embarrassment.

“All I know is that the circumstances between us still haven’t changed. And that this shit is confusing—he’s confusing.”

You wave your hand around vaguely, “He’s been acting all weird and stuff.”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters…”

“Hmmm…”

“What do you mean, hmmm?” you ask, exasperated.

She rolls her eyes at you, “Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that he’s trying to prove you something?”

At that, your heart leaps in your throat. You push it down, though, as best as you can. Crossing your arms across your chest, you huff.

“If he thinks restocking my coffee for me is proving something, he’s got another thing coming for him.”

Mina guffaws, and you can’t help the smile that creeps on your face. Once the laughter has died down, though, she eyes you for a moment before sighing in resignation.

She picks up her phone and thumbs out something on her keyboard.

“Well, you’re in luck,” she starts, “Daichi-san is still interested in meeting you.”

You don’t know whether to be annoyed at Mina for ignoring your earlier request to cancel or be grateful for indulging you on your current one.

Not wanting to change her mind, you merely opt for mumbling a quick ‘thank you’, glancing at your phone as it dings with a message from her containing the engineer’s number.

You look around the interior of the restaurant, past the windows of the private room you’re in where a beautiful traditional garden lies, illuminated by the dim orange outdoor lighting.

You chance a peek at Daichi, who is already looking at you when your eyes meet.

Embarrassed, you look down at your ridiculously elaborate main course, finding yourself grateful that you opted for the fancier of your two dresses earlier this evening.

“So,” he breaks the silence as he pours you a glass of wine whose name you can’t even begin to pronounce. “Ashido-san told me you work at the Ground Riot agency?”

“Yes,” you smile gratefully as you bring your glass to your lips and take a sip. “I’ve been working there for a year now.”

“Must be exciting, huh?” he adds pleasantly, “working for top Pro Heroes?”

Man.

You purse your lips together, not wanting to seem stilted by the question. “It is. It can get quite hectic, though.”

He hums in agreement, “I get that.”

Daichi then proceeds to talk about the agency where he works, and normally you’d be kind enough to actively listen and throw in some follow-up questions, but your mind is now drifting towards Bakugou and your last encounter at the mention of the Pro Hero.

What did he want to say to you?

“L/N-san?”

“Huh?”

Daichi chuckles awkwardly, “I was just asking if you wanted some spice on your salmon."

Spice.

Bakugou would’ve wanted some.

Bakugou, you think to yourself.

Bakugou.

“Bakugou?”

You gape at the figure looming over your dining table.

The very man is standing there in his regular clothes that would’ve disguised his identity if it weren’t for his distinct blonde hair and hulking figure.

“What are you doing here?!”

“I need to talk to you.”

You nervously glance at your date, who seems to be starstruck by the Pro Hero in front of him.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something?” you whisper-shout.

Bakugou barely pays him any attention—gaze remaining on you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think an unspoken ‘please’ lies at the tip of his tongue.

You shake your head in bewilderment, or in an attempt to shake off these thoughts—you don’t know.

“Don’t you have the night shift? And how’d you know I was here?”

He exhales heavily, jaw tensing.

“I had Kirishima cover for me. And…” He looks away for a brief moment, before turning back and fixing his gaze on yours. “I asked Mina, and she told me you’d be here.”

You don’t know what comes over you, but at that, you stand up on your feet and stare him down.

“You can stop now, Katsuki,” you hush, wary of your date eavesdropping on your conversation. “Quit wasting your time on me just to prove a point and go back to the agency. You’ve done enough.”

His eyebrows furrow in what you’ve grown to identify as defiance, but he doesn’t make a move to fight back or leave.

Instead, he says through gritted teeth: “I’m not just trying to prove a fucking point, Y/N.”

“Then what are—”

“Excuse me?”

You both whip your heads in the direction of the voice, only to see Daichi sporting a sheepish look on his face as his eyes dart between the two of you.

A pang of guilt courses through you at the sight.

He clears his throat, “Do you guys need a minute alone?”

“No, we’re just—”

“Yes.”

You turn back to look at Bakugou in angry confusion. To your astoundment, he leans in ever slightly, mouth nearing your ear. From how close you are, you see how his Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps before speaking.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he says: “I can’t pretend that this isn’t bothering me.”

You jerk away at the sensation and take a step back, flustered. Before you can even gather your bearing, Daichi speaks up again, albeit quite hesitantly.

“I know I’m supposed to be the one leaving here, but if you want some privacy, this restaurant has a private patio right to your left.”

“I can’t believe you interrupted us like that,” you spew as you step out into the restaurant’s patio, which is fortunately empty except for the two of you.

Bakugou follows behind you, trying to catch up as you speak.

“I just needed to talk to you.”

At that, you spin around to face him, and he halts in his step in front of you.

Incredulous, you stare at him for a few seconds.

“Talk,” you finally command.

His eyes widen in surprise, and you can tell he didn’t expect this conversation to arrive at this point so soon.

A moment passes, but not a single word is uttered. Bakugou’s mouth opens and closes, opens and closes, as he attempts to get a word out but to no avail.

“What, now you don’t have anything to say?” you ask pointedly, irritation bubbling in you by the second.

You wait for a few more, excruciatingly quiet seconds before huffing in defeat. And disappointment—you finally admit to yourself.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you turn on your heel, “I have a poor date to return to.”

You start to head for the restaurant’s back door when Bakugou makes a grab for your hand, spinning you around to face him.

“Just—wait.”

His voice is pleading now, frustration and desperation evident in his tone. You’re itching to yank your hand back, which is getting alarmingly clammier by the second, but you fight the urge.

The pained look on Bakugou’s face is enough to freeze you solid.

This time around, you patiently wait for him to gather his words with his hand still wrapped around yours and your heart betraying you, beating at an abnormally fast pace.

What feels like an hour goes by before he finally manages to speak.

And what comes out of his mouth throws you right off.

“I strengthened our coordination with the other agencies around the district.”

“...What?”

You absentmindedly touch your face with your free hand.

You can’t be having a stroke right now.

Bakugou shifts on his feet, a nervous tic you’ve noticed developed over the years.

Okay, if you’re coherent enough to observe that, maybe you’re not having a stroke.

“I mean—” he scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “—Shitty Hair and I, we clarified jurisdictions around the area so that the two of us won’t be the go-to contact every time there’s a villain around.”

“I’m still not following, Katsuki.”

He ignores your comment, choosing to continue on his tangent instead.

“And I started seeing my therapist again. That damned hag went on telling me she was glad I’m getting help again like she was my mother.”

You blink at him as the gears start turning in your head.

Jurisdiction.

Less overtime.

More sidekicks.

Therapy.

Communication.

Suddenly, everything clicks.

“Maybe I am trying to prove a point,” Bakugou mumbles, more to himself than you.

“But it’s not just that,” he continues, looking back at you and not letting you get a word in.

“I’m here to tell you that I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect. Despite all the adjustments I’ve made, there are still gonna be days when I have no choice but to prioritize my duties as a hero over you.”

He looks down at your joint hands and squeezes, “Over us.”

“But I’m trying my best,” he declares with such certainty it knocks the wind off your lungs. “And I’ll keep doing so, if you’ll give me a chance to prove to you that I can do it.”

A million questions race through your mind. Why couldn’t he have done this for you the first time around? How is this time going to be any different? Are the changes going to be enough?

But he’s staring at you with such longing and hope and determination that the only thing you can think of is: How can you not?

Dizzy from the revelation and robbed of all words, all you can do is nod in affirmation as the tears you didn’t even notice were there start falling down your cheek.

A sigh of relief wracks Bakugou’s body as he scoops you in his arms, engulfing you in an embrace that has you sobbing even more on his shoulder.

The wet sensation spreading on your bare shoulders tells you he’s crying, too.

After what feels like an eternity of shedding tears and being wrapped in each other’s arms, Bakugou finally moves to unwrap his limbs around you, now holding you at an arm’s length.

Now not in spite of yourself, your hand shoots up to wipe off the tear streaks on his face, which he leans into.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” he whispers after a moment.

Your hand freezes in its track. “For what?”

“For not being able to immediately answer back when you asked me if you loving me changed anything.”

He looks down at his feet, uncertain. “I think—I just—” he stutters, “Fuck.”

You can’t help but chuckle in response, and he looks up at your face at the sound. He’s trying to playfully pout, but you can tell by the look on his face that he’s feeling the farthest from playful.

Flashing him what you hope is a reassuring smile, you reach for the hand on your shoulder and squeeze it. “Go on, Katsuki.”

He sighs for the nth time at your coaxing, the slightest bit of relief flashing across his features.

“At that moment,” he finally continues, voice raspy, “I guess I was just scared shitless. I was paralyzed with doubt—in myself, in my capability to not mess up the second time around.”

He huffs, eyeing you, “Didn’t occur to me how stupid that was until I was walking home later that night.”

You’re about to reassure him when he snorts. “The fuck am I saying—I’m still scared.”

At that, you audibly laugh, running your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. He visibly softens at the gesture, lids fluttering shut for a moment. When he opens them, you then look him straight in the eye—the laughter long gone, now replaced with a palpable seriousness.

“I’m scared, too,” you say, voice quiet. “But we’ll try and make things work. Right, Katsuki?”

He nods vigorously, hand clenching yours and his crimson orbs filled with nothing but sincerity that all the apprehensions floating in your mind suddenly disappear.

“We will.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @bakugouswh0r3 @poemzcheng @lovra974 @jasmixs @xoneaboveallx @bontensh0e @kooromin @sirenmoi @buzzbuzz-hm @xzsanaa @baddecisionsworld @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @i-simp-to-much @goldenglow149 @fixed211 @zenxvii @roses-arerosies @tiredjuniper @curbstompedrice @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @bkgnotsuma @6423btw @kaeremin @ghastly-san @jasmixs @javochqaa @nnubee @just-ambxrr @idk-sam @dream-walker-cat @kitthepurplepotato @endlessfreaky @myrunawaysweets @bxbyyyjocelyn @smolbeannnn @seabass17 @serendipitous-fernweh @the-weeping-author

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 3

Contents: pre-relationship headcanons, slow burn, pining, humor

For a few days after that, things continue as normal. Nanami meets you at work on some days, on others he's exceptionally busy with missions and paperwork. The dynamic from that day has receded, but not vanished. It feels a little like reaching a wonderful part of a book and shelving it temporarily, because you cannot bear for it to end. When you return to it, the pages will fall open naturally, close to the place where you left off.

You've stopped pretending, at this point, that your meetings with him were chance ones. You know full well when he is likely to take his breaks and that they always coincide with when you take a later shift. It is one of the many small things that seem to be spiralling out of your ability to maintain control over in recent days.

Even with all of this, the actual progression of your ... interaction (you don't feel brave enough to call it anything else) is a very slight one. You chide yourself for behaving like an immature love-struck idiot. You've always prided yourself on your ability to remain calm and objective about things, which is why this change is so ... terrifying. How can a man so composed himself be the harbinger and creator of such feelings in another person? It defies logic.

Then, one day, he sends you a message. It comes while you're at work, busy handling requisitions for new materials for sorcerers. You've been expecting an email from a contact in the supply and distribution department, and so casually slide your finger over the message before freezing. His name. Exactly as you'd saved it on your contact list.

Nanami Kento.

The message is simple:

"Hello. Please send a clean-up crew. I've attached the location."

A map co-ordinate has been attached, along with a picture. Puzzled, you open up the photo. It shows a warehouse, stacked with boxes and crates. Something had obviously occurred in that warehouse. The crates are shattered, as if a huge force had been applied to them, and dark stains are splattered all over the floors and ceiling. If Nanami had asked for a clean-up crew ...

As if in a daze, you call the relevant department and send the request through. You'd dealt with the aftermath of many exorcisms for other sorcerers, but Nanami never usually left such a mess. His efficiency also ensured that he would normally put the request through himself. That left you slightly worried. If the warehouse looked like that, what about him?

Tentatively, you pick up your phone and type a message.

"Request for clean-up team sent. Are you all right? Any injuries?"

The reply comes shortly after.

"Thank you. I'm fine. No serious injuries."

If the circumstances had been different, you might have found it amusing how robotically dry his messages were. The word 'serious', however, is circling in your mind like a vulture. What if he's downplaying his injuries? You'd never dealt with him directly before, so you wouldn't know for sure. Fingers hovering above the keys, thinking of a subtle way to find out, you give a small start as a message comes through, as if Nanami has been reading your mind.

It's another picture. This one is of his hand, large, wiry fingers wrapped around a Styrofoam coffee cup, reassuringly free of blood. You can see part of his suit jacket, draped over his arm.

"I'm not hurt. But I am thirsty."

Good Lord.

In the quiet of your office, you place your forehead in your palm and laugh silently.

__________________________________________________

Nanami had never been one for making idle conversation. His rigid countenance and stern demeanour often made him intimidating and unapproachable, except to those who knew him well. He had always struck you as someone who was supremely and calmly confident in every action he took. Whenever he spoke to you about missions in the break room, there had never been awkward silences or times when he'd seemed at a loss for words. Whatever he's said carried weight and added meaning to the conversation.

Which was why these new developments were such a puzzle to you. Over the past few weeks, there had been incidents where you couldn't make head or tail of his behaviour. It had started with the warehouse clean-up. The next time, it was the mysterious case of the missing homework.

Everyone who worked closely with the sorcerers knew, at this point, that Nanami has somewhat taken Itadori Yuuji under his wing. Unlike Gojo, who was loud, effusive and energetic when he interacted with the students, Nanami gave the impression of tolerating Yuuji's antics. Anyone who knew Nanami a little better could tell that he had a great deal of fondness for the boy.

So, when Nanami came into your office with Yuuji in tow and stopped at your desk, you couldn't help looking curiously between them. Yuuji greeted you with friendly grin and then looked at Nanami expectantly. The latter cleared his throat.

"Good day. I apologize for disturbing you, but I was wondering if you could help us?"

"Of course. What do you need?"

"Itadori has informed me that he's lost his assignment for class this afternoon."

Yuuji shamefacedly produced a battered USB drive and held it out to you.

"Ah, so sorry! But Nanamin told me that since we're passing by here, you'd help me print out another copy?"

"Oh, that's no problem at all."

You smile at Yuuji, who claps his hands together in sincere thanks. You're still wondering why they hadn't made use of the many printers in the student lab on the way here, but soon forget about that when you see the assignment open up in your word processor.

The spelling and grammar ... leave a lot to be desired, to put it kindly. You understand that English is Yuuji's second language, but this assignment wouldn't pass the minimum standards at Jujutsu Tech, where communication with foreign sorcerers was a necessity. You glance up at Nanami, who is eyeing you inscrutably through his tinted glasses. Your gaze tracks across to Yuuji.

"Hmm ... is it fine if I make a few changes? I know that the work should reflect your own ability, but if I explain the errors to you, then it would be the same as you learning and correcting those errors, yes?"

Yuuji's face lights up in a way that leaves you taken aback.

"Oh, yeah! That would be a huge help. Thanks!"

He hops up onto your table, which is thankfully free of the usual clutter, and swings his legs with disarming cheeriness. You take some time to explain his errors, his pink hair fluffing up under the air conditioning in the office as he nods his head earnestly. Within twenty minutes, you've finally made the assignment look far more presentable and Yuuji seems to understand everything you've explained. Nanami watches in silence.

Holding the newly printed copy like a precious treasure, Yuuji waves to you as they exit the office. You laugh and wave back. Nanami pauses in the doorway and looks back at you. He seems about to say something, then changes his mind, bows in thanks and follows Yuuji. You raise an eyebrow.

Curiouser and curiouser.

__________________________________________________

A few days later, you have some time off. You've stepped out of the shower, the scent of your herb-filled window boxes pleasantly filtering into the apartment with the afternoon breeze. You make yourself some tea and check your phone, coming to an abrupt halt when you see a message from Nanami waiting. You feel a rising frustration with yourself. As much as you can acknowledge the hold this man has over you, you wish your reactions to him were less embarrassing.

You close your eyes briefly, allowing the bittersweet pang of desire to well in your chest when you remember how tall and reassuringly solid he had looked, standing next to Yuuji in your office. Gojo couldn't have chosen a better or more trusted chaperone for his student. Having held off for long enough, you open the message.

It's another picture, this time of Yuuji proudly holding up his assignment, a seventy-two percent grade written in the upper corner in red ink. A significant improvement on what he could have scored. A soft smile appearing on your face, you scroll further down to see what Nanami had written.

"Apologies for not thanking you properly that day. I've seen you do crosswords, so I knew that your skill with words might help Itadori."

Ha. Sneaky. So that's why he'd brought Yuuji to you. Your smile grows and then turns perplexed. You've read the tail end of Nanami's message.

"Itadori's assignment was on the common honeybee. If you'd allow me, I'd like to use that information to thank you."

What on earth did that mean?

_______________________________________________________

The next day, you go in to work and find something on your table. A small paper bag of freshly baked honey cakes, the kind you like to buy once in a while to have with tea in your office. You very rarely get the fresh ones, though, as these get sold out very early. There's no note, but you know who they're from.

For some reason, the thought of Nanami going to the bakery so early in the morning and standing patiently in the long queue to buy these for you creates a burning feeling in your chest and a rush of blood in your ears. You look around the office hurriedly, mortified that you've once again shown your reaction so clearly. Nobody is there to see it, thankfully.

Sitting down heavily, drawing the package to you, you stroke a finger down the brown paper, struggling to contain the flood of emotion the small gesture has unlocked.

And then, you remember something. Other things begin to fall into place.

You've never mentioned to him that you liked these cakes. You've never even eaten them in front of him before. Yet, somehow, he knew. Just like how he knew that you're good with words, but more importantly, that you had a soft spot for the students and always assisted them where you could. Just like how he knew that you've been curious about the exact nature of the missions he handles and their aftermath. Just like he knew how worried you were that he could have been injured at the warehouse.

You wonder if a honeybee's sting has ever felt as dangerously sweet as this.

@tsukimefuku @g-kleran @actuallysaiyan @kentocalls

[archangeldyke-all]

Outlaw cowboy sevika who fell in love with a good woman or a woman she is partner in crimes with?

i'm done writing the big fic, so i can finally start doing requests again!! starting with this GENIUS idea tysm anon <333

men and minors dni

the parlor doors swing open, and a shadowy figure wanders into the tavern. behind the bar, you bite your lip, watching patrons scatter as the cloaked figure struts over to the bar, a jingle decorating every one of their footsteps as their spurs twirl on their boots.

they knock on the bar top to get your attention, like you haven't had your eyes trained on them since they strolled in. you grin.

"how can i help ya?" you ask, already reaching under the counter to pull out a glass and bottle of whiskey. you pour them a big glass and slide it across the bar, not moving your hand when they reach forward to grab it.

when your fingers meet, you gently brush yours against theirs, then slowly, slowly trail your fingers up their arm, before grabbing the rim of their hat and flicking it up.

there she is, you think as sevika's face is finally revealed to you. she's smiling just as wide as you are.

"got any vacancies?" she asks. you chuckle.

"fully booked, sorry miss." you tease. she snorts. "but maybe if you work for it i can arrange a place for you to sleep." you add on. sevika rolls her eyes as you grab two buckets and gesture for her to follow you. she does. she always does.

you wander out of the tavern and into the small side garden you tend to in your free time. shoving a bucket into her arms, you gesture at the well. she meanders over to it and begins pumping the spout until water comes spurting out. you watch in amusement as she gets sprayed and curses.

you walk through your rows of crops, harvesting a few ears of corn, a couple of potatoes, a handful of carrots.

your tavern/inn is located on the main street of a small shanty town in the middle of nowhere. the only people who travel through these parts are up to no good, so when you came to own the place after the previous owner died and left it in your name, you made a few policy changes.

for one thing, you don't ask questions. patrons can come in riddled with shrapnel and bleeding, their faces identical to the 'wanted' sketches that are plastered around town, and you simply turn a blind eye and serve them a hearty bowl of stew, fill 'em up with liquor, patch their wounds, and give them a bed. in exchange for your discretion, you've made plenty of shady friends, who often pay for their time spent in the tavern with stolen and smuggled goods like pretty jewelry, gold bars, or premium cuts of meats or cheeses.

the locals don't give you much trouble, too scared to piss off any of your friends, too happy with the imported rare goods they bring to town with them to complain about the occasional stand off or shootout.

you wander out of the garden, stopping by the small stables and greeting sevika's trusty mare shimmer. the horse whinnies at your appearance, tail swinging happily as you scratch her ears.

"hey, shimmer." you whisper to the horse. "here, baby." you say, hand feeding her a few carrots. "how much trouble'd she get you in this time?" you ask the horse. shimmer doesn't respond, too busy crunching on her treats.

behind you, sevika's hand wraps around your waist. you smile as she presses a kiss against your head.

"missed you." she mumbles against your temple. you laugh and gesture to the tavern.

"c'mon." you say. "i'll canoodle with you once these chores are done."

you and sevika spend the afternoon tending to the tavern. she distributes the water evenly among bedrooms, filling the wash bowls and pitchers patrons can use to hydrate and clean themselves.

you tend to the stew, chopping and stirring in your vegetables, adding a few pinches of dried garlic and onion powder to the bubbling pot of perpetual stew, stirring and tasting and adjusting until you're happy with how it tastes.

it's the slow season. travelers are rare in these parts, but even more so during the scalding hot summer. a few neighbors wander in for a quick drink, and the few patrons you have retire to their rooms once sevika's done refreshing them.

once the sun sets, the tavern is empty, except for you and sevika.

she's staring at you adoringly from across the bar, her chin propped up in her hand as she watches you sweep. you scoff at her expression.

"what kinda trouble'd you get yourself into this time, huh?" you ask. sevika chuckles.

"you didn't see it in the papers?" she asks.

"that train robbery?" you ask. sevika shrugs with a smile. you laugh. "you're gonna get caught up one of these days." you say as you begin wiping down the bar top. sevika rolls her eyes.

"you got no faith in me, darlin', it breaks my heart." she says. you laugh and turn off the oil lamps, before starting up the stairs. sevika follows behind you.

the second floor is where your patrons sleep, but you get the whole attic/third floor to yourself. it's a nice little studio space, two windows on either side, big enough to hold a double mattress and two sets of drawers, a few chests stuffed full with treasures and valuables sevika's brought back to you.

sevika sighs as she enters the space, hanging her hat and poncho up on two nails you'd slammed into the walls for her years ago, shoving off her boots and stripping down to her undergarments. you sit at your desk and watch her strip with scruitny, making sure she doesn't have any new wounds or scars. she washes herself down with a wet rag, sighing as the grime and dirt of her travels slowly washes away. once your sure she's not injured, you allow your gaze to become appreciative, taking in her muscular back and arms as they scrub her body down.

you rise from your seat and approach her, slinging your hands around her waist and tucking your chin over her shoulder. she sighs and leans back against you.

"three weeks is too long." you mumble against your lover. sevika hums.

"i know, darlin'." she says. you take the washcloth from her and begin to scrub her back for her, occasionally kneading and massaging at the knots and tension that riddles her muscles. she melts. "i missed you." she sighs. you kiss the nape of her neck.

"i missed you too. had me worried, you know." you mumble against her. she turns in your arms to wrap her own around your waist, gently swaying the two of you back and forth as she soaks in your features.

"i've been yours for how long?" she teases. you roll your eyes. "five years now?" she asks. you smile and nod. "and you're still worried about me? you know i always come back to you darlin'." she says. you sigh and roll your eyes. "gonna give yourself an ulcer at this rate." she teases. you chuckle.

"wouldn't have to worry if you stuck around." you say.

you and sevika have had this conversation a thousand times now. she's made more than enough in her time as a bandit for the two of you to live comfortably together until the end of time.

still, she always leaves. you don't blame her, before she met you sevika spent her entire life wandering the west, all alone, never staying in one place for longer than a week.

but then, one fateful night all those years ago, she stumbled into your tavern bloodied and battered, staring at you with a sparkle in her eyes as you patched her up. and since then, she's been circling back to you after each and every one of her jobs.

the longer she's had you, the more time she puts between her heists. you'll get her to stay eventually, you just have to be patient. but patience is hard when the love of your life has such a dangerous occupation.

sevika swoops in to kiss the frown off your lips. you sigh against her and wrap your arms around her shoulders as she slowly uncinches your corset and helps you out of your layers.

when you're both naked, you guide her to the bed, plastering yourself to her side as you continue to kiss her. tears well up in your eyes as you get your hand in her hair, and she notices, pulling away with a frown.

"'s wrong darlin'?" she asks. you hide your face against her shoulder.

"what if you die out there, sev? a hundred miles away all alone in the desert... nobody'd find you until you were just bones and dust. and i'd be here waitin' for you to come home for the rest of my life." you say, your voice wobbly. sevika wraps you up in her arms and sighs against you. you reach up to gently trace the scars littering her left cheek.

"fuckin' ruining the surprise." she grumbles against you. you blink.

"what surprise?" you ask. sevika rolls her eyes and darts forward to kiss your forehead.

"the train... it was a cargo train. one of the cars was headed to a bank, padded wall to wall with cash 'n gold. enough for a hundred people." she says. you gulp and blink at her, hesitant to assume lest you get your heart broken.

"so?" you ask. sevika chuckles.

"so, i'm retiring." she says simply. "fuck do i need to keep robbin' and lootin' for if i'm already filthy rich?" she asks. you blink at her, your heart swelling, tears falling down your cheeks as you soak in her words. "plus... i met a girl i'm hopin' to settle down with." she says, smiling shyly at you.

you let out a shaky breath then launch forward, pinning sevika to the bed as she laughs and gathers you in her arms.

"are you serious?" you ask against her. she chuckles and kisses your head.

"deadly." she responds. you melt against her, clinging to her like your life depends on it. "you think you might need a new employee here?" she asks. you snort against her.

"i can figure somethin' out." you say. "gotta work on your people skills, though." you tease her through your tears. sevika laughs and smacks your ass.

"y'know..." she starts. you pick your head up from her shoulder to look at her, and she looks away, nervous. you kiss her lips and she sighs, her anxiety melting away under your touch. "i met a pastor while i was out wanderin'." she says. "said he wouldn't be opposed to marryin' two women if someone were to give his chapel some donation money." she whispers.

you study sevika for a moment as she anxiously nibbles on her lip. "you askin' me to marry you?" you ask. sevika shrugs.

"i mean... i've already given you hundreds of rings." she says. you smile.

"you have." you say. she smiles up at you.

"so?" she asks. "his chapel's a day's ride from here. figured we could go now during the slow season, make it a little vacation?" she asks. you grin and launch down to kiss her, and sevika sighs against your mouth.

"there's nothin' in this world that would make me happier, baby." you whisper against her lips. sevika grins.

"sure you won't mind bein' an outlaw's wife?" she asks. you laugh and smack her shoulder.

"a former outlaw." you correct her. she chuckles. "and no, i won't mind. 'specially when that outlaw's as handsome as you." you say. below you, sevika blushes.

"fuck off." she grunts. you laugh.

"that's no way to talk to your wife." you tease her. sevika grins.

"you're right. 'm sorry, darlin'."

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ venus as a boy

˚ · . sakusa x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ first time, loosing of virginity, protected sex, reader and sakusa are in highschool but 18, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), mentions of masturbation, biting, sakusa is just a pretty boy, venus as a boy by björk is an amazing song love it

his fingers, they focus on her and touches he's venus as a boy

it's quiet, only soft breaths audible so low it's almost a silent whisper. the bed underneath cringes at the weight distributed over it as he moves closer to you. his calloused hands are almost trembling as they gently undo the buttons on your white blouse.

he's nervous. you look up at him with gleaming eyes, an amused smile on your features as you watch your boyfriend of almost two years become oh-so nervous over seeing you naked for the first time. his eyes dart up at you, waiting for your permission while his fingers remain on the last button.

you nod silently, cheeks slightly flushing when the last button finally gives way and his hands are grabbing your blouse at the hems and hesitantly pulling it off, gently gliding it off your torso and sliding off the sleeves for you. your torso is left half bare in front of him, only clad with a black lace bra.

he's visibly blushing, it's cute. while he has seen you naked before, he doesn't really count it, as you were in a swimsuit. his reaction is different, he didn't seem to get awkward whilst you were swimsuit clad because it's just a swimsuit, it's normal. while you admire his respectfulness, you teasingly wonder where his sudden stoicism went.

you think back to the time when you would touch yourself late at night to the thought of your beloved boyfriend. you would theorize and daydream about him, wondering how he would touch you, whether his personality and sense of humor suggests exciting sex.

you let his hands explore and caress your bare skin, his finger-pads pressing and proding curiously at your soft flesh. you silently giggle at the way his eyes try to respectfully avoiding your breasts, not wanting to seem desperate. "kiyoomi it's okay, are you nervous?" you smile, taking one of his hands into your own.

his lips pout with embarrassment, "maybe." he admits, avoiding eye contact with you. your free hand comes up to his nape, laughing at his awkwardness, you bring him down for a kiss. he happily gives into you, his hand traveling upwards to your collarbone and resting on the skin there.

he leans you back carefully onto the bed, his lips still pushing against yours before he's poking his tongue inbetween your lips. you softly moan into the passionate exchange, his chest pressing against yours as his tongue ravishes your own.

it surprises you how gentle he is with you, almost like the first time he hugged you. his touch is barely there. his fingers focus on you and touches. he glides them along your skin, caressing you so lightly it leaves lingering warmth in his wake.

he pulls away from you slowly, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. he looks down at you with those low black eyes of his, he believes in a gentle and beauty, oh, how he is. it makes you almost jealous at his natural beauty, why is it always the men who have long curled eyelashes without trying?

his flushed bitten lips are pursed into a fine line, eyes watching attentively to your reaction as he brings a inquisitive hand up to your breast. he presses his hand almost hesitantly onto your soft mound before feeling more bold and experimentally squeezing with more pressure.

he almost flinches when you softly grunt in response, hand jolting away from your breast. you blink at him with bewilderment, "i-it's okay 'omi. it feels good, actually, you should continue." his hand returns to your breast per your encouragement, other hand coming to touch your other breast as well. he squeezes them once more, fondling them carefully like dough.

his eyes occasionally look up at your face to watch your reactions when he experiments with pressure, touches, and squeezes. he swallows back the lump in his throat when he notices the front clasp of your bra and subconsciously reaching for it.

his fingers remain at the clasp, only unclasping it when you nod at him once more. he feels almost like a child again, almost wanting to slap himself in the face when he feels his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. he deeply inhales at the sight of your bare breasts, this time, his hands are much quicker to touch them, eagerly squeezing and distributing random pressure to them.

it surprises you when he leans in and attaches his lips onto your nipple, softly sucking and pulling. he lightly huffs at the way you arch your back into him, his sucking getting more aggressive and confident.

"omi," you mewl out, his teeth grazing against your sensitive bud. he's exploring the taste of you, he only stops his assault on your breasts when you paw at his shoulder. "omi, i wanna touch you too."

he feels his heart skip a beat at your confession, eyes left wide as he put together your request. touch him? but it's not like he could refuse, as within five minutes your hands are slowly pulling down his boxers. he's sitting up while your on your stomach on the side of his leg, head close to his lower stomach.

he almost wants to pull away due to embarrassment when his cock finally springs out from his boxers, blushing deeply when it smacks the side of your cheek. you awkwardly chuckle at the little accident, pulling away slightly to get a better look at his cock.

your eyes are wide and full of awe, and perhaps fright? his cock is long, maybe a good 6.7 inches, and reasonably thick. he's neatly trimmed, as expected of someone who is well kept in regards of hygiene. there's a prominent vein on the underside of it, traveling all the way up to his tip, dark and almost a reddish-purple.

he bites his tongue when your hand boldly wraps around the base of his cock, not even wasting a second to pump his length. even though he knew this moment was to come, he still wasn't prepared. how ironic, he thinks. it's ironic for him to feel unprepared as someone who despises disorganization and unpreparedness.

he bites at his lip, holding back a grunt when you experimentally lick at his tip before your lips are attaching to it, suckling and kissing softly. you feel like heaven. it surprises him, the way you're so bold and confident with him. he's sure this is your first time, and yet you almost expertly begin taking his length within your mouth.

though, his assumption is correct when you falter, gagging on his length before allowing his cock to slip out of your mouth to breathe. he sighs with fondness, thats what he likes about you. someone so clumsy and almost aloof, yet determined and willing to lead those also unaware. he remembers the many times you lead him as well through situations he was unwilling to face.

he finds himself huffing when you once again to take him in your mouth, eyebrow raised with awe as you already seem to have adapted a technique. within a short amount of time, your bobbing your head up and down his cock, softly moaning around him while your hands stay attached to his thighs.

his hand comes to grip at your skirt, before finding better purchase on the swell of your ass. feeling a little bolder, he travels a teasing hand down your ass to eventually, your warm core. you jump at the sudden feeling, looking up him with surprised eyes at the feel of his finger-pads pressing against your clothed cunt.

for some reason, you take that as an invitation for a competition as to who can make the other feel better. his fingertips prod at your virgin hole, eyes narrowing when he slowly slides in the tip of his index. you're tight.

you whine at the sudden intrusion, faltering around his cock as the feeling of his index massaging your gummy walls has your mind spinning. you suck him off as best you can, you can't help but blush at your lewd slurping and wet squelches. most of his cock is coated thoroughly in your saliva, traveling down to his balls.

his breathing becomes uneven, sliding in another finger so as to speed up your own incoming orgasm. his fingers scissor you open to as the best he can, knowing that it's going to be a tight fit for later. he halts his movements when you violently jolt when his fingers touch against that spot, not even being able to continue on with your blowjob.

he judges by your lewd and sudden moans that the specific spot is what will pleasure you the best, wasting no time to abuse that sweet spot of yours. you can only weakly lick at his cock, hand pumping clumsily around him.

"a-ah, omi! i'm gunna cum," you mewl, blushing intensely as your free hand claws at his thigh. he can only grunt out as response, feeling his own orgasm so close. his fingers curl inside of you, applying heavy pressure to that sweet spot of yours so deliciously it as you tightening up around his fingers, body tensing and hand suddenly clenching around his cock so hard it unexpectedly triggers his own orgasm.

his fingers are coated in your arousal, so accurate albeit bittersweet, he thinks after surprising you by bringingthem up to his lips to taste you. all across your lips, you lick off his semen, not necessarily being of bad taste.

your legs tremble as you attempt to straddle him, but he stops you quickly, insisting that he be the one to do the work, he's built for it after-all. he's sliding off your panties entirely so as your legs can bend and move freely, spreading your legs. he looks up at you once more while his hand wraps around his semi-hard, condom clad cock, guiding it towards your small hole.

"it's okay 'omi." you breath out, a hint of nervousness within your tone as the heaviness of his cock seems to scare you. finding comfort in your hand, he intertwines your fingers with his. with a heavy chest, he slowly pushes his tip in, almost pulling out when your face contorts into one of pain.

he pulls his upper body close to you, forehead leaning against yours as a sad attempt to make you feel better. he kisses away the stray tears that fall out of your glazed eyes while slowly working his hips in, centimeter by centimeter.

it takes awhile, and a few tears and comforting kisses, but eventually his cock is sheathed fully in you. he's so big, it has you feeling like you can't breathe. the pain soon subsides, leaving you with a feeling deep in your core that has you wanting more.

"kiyoomi you can move now.." you whine, sighing deeply when he slowly rocks his hips out before sliding back in. his cock brushes pleasingly against your walls, purposely pressing against that same sweet spot from earlier.

your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close to you, sending shivers down his spine as you moan out so wonderfully. his ears are tingling with redness at your lewd sounds, face hiding into your neck. his pace picks up by the minute, soon losing himself in the pleasure that is your pussy.

he's already addicted. his hand grips onto your waist, his other wrapping your leg around his waist in hopes of reaching even deeper inside of you. he curses at himself when he already feels the foreign feeling of his impending orgasm, causing you to gasp when he unexpectedly bites onto your shoulder due to the sweet pleasure you're giving him.

"y/n," he grunts out, mind spinning and filled with just lusting thoughts of you, you, you. he's incredibly close, so much so he's almost embarrassed about how quickly he's coming. his embarrassment is slightly soothed when you clench around him so tightly it has him seeing stars. you cum with a loud cry of his name, hands clawing red marks on his back.

your orgasms have the two of you gasping for air, thighs tingling as the aftershock hits you both. he pulls away from you as so to look at your face, scanning you for your approval. you breath out a chuckle at his adorable determination, "not so bad, hah."

he softly smiles at that before lowering his head back against your shoulder, body collapsing against yours. not so bad, he thinks, eyes fluttering closed when you massage his head, playing with his black curls.

you observe his calm features, beauty and gentle he is. the lovemaking just has your heart beating in your chest, he's venus as a boy.

please leave a like and repost with tags :)

[ladysaytenn]

Heads up for fans of my music!

At the start of December, some of my music will be unavailable on your favorite streaming service because the formerly free distribution service Amuse decided that holding hostages is the best business strategy. I'm guessing they're mad that they don't have Lil Nas X anymore I don't know.

So naturally I'll be paying someone else to get my music back. It'll be a long and somewhat tedious process, and there's no guarantee that you'll still own my music if you bought it on Apple or Google. If that ends up being the case, send me your receipt and I'll take care of it to the best of my ability. Thank you for your patience.

[lurkingshan]

Unknown Episode 11

Well, let me get this out of the way upfront. This episode brought us to the big moment we've all been waiting for, the final turn in Yuan and Qian's relationship--and unfortunately, it didn't quite land.

I've been sitting with this episode, contemplating my disappointment with the first sequence, and I think it comes down to this show that has been so assured and confident through most of its run faltering at the crucial moment and seeming to lose faith in its own storytelling to the point that it used editing tricks to compensate. The choice to chop up and sequence this narrative lynchpin of a scene out of order is baffling, and it's a choice that significantly stepped on the most important emotional climax of the story. I was confused to go from the conversation outside to a sudden kiss, then disappointed when we cut back to a very short exchange between Qian and Yuan that was supposed to provide the basis for this turn with only some thin dialogue that didn't connect the beats of the scene, and then into an intense sexual encounter (that was constantly interrupted by repetitive flashbacks) that should have felt like a triumphant and revelatory moment but didn't because of the way we got there.

I know I'm not the only one feeling that way, since folks have been creating and distributing reedited versions of the scene, and Youku actually uploaded a new version free on YouTube with all the flashbacks removed (a clear move toward fan appeasement after the show received a lot of negative feedback on the scene). The editing and the flashbacks were annoying, but honestly the fundamental problem was the scene they wrote did not sufficiently sell the change for Qian--he goes from saying he is still not certain what he wants to being ready to be dicked down in a couple minutes' time, with nothing in the exchange providing any new information or impetus for the shift. The performers did great work but unfortunately the writing and directing and editing decisions around this sequence were just bad; it's frustrating for this to happen with arguably the most important scene of the romance.

A note about the novel: the way this final turn happened there was quite different and, candidly, better in just about every way, from the impetus for the change to the beats of the revelation to the progression of physical intimacy on a pace that felt much more attuned to the emotional complexities at play. I do not know why the show did...this when they had better source material content to work with, but here we are. I absolutely recommend that anyone who loves this show read it!

So, with that disappointment expressed, on to the rest of the episode, in which Yuan and Qian settled into their couple era. I was deeply amused by Qian taking to their sex life like a moth to a flame to the point of daydreaming in meetings, but I do wish the episode had focused more on the natural tension and role confusion that should have resulted from this huge shift in their relationship. They touched on that a bit in the scene where Yuan asked Qian if his hug was from his brother or his boyfriend, but they didn't delve into those complexities in the way I hoped they would. I enjoyed their date at the local restaurant (and loved their friendly neighborhood gangster helping to set the mood) and how much it felt like they were surrounded by their history as they moved through all of these familiar locations where they've had important moments. I didn't much care for the insertion of the health scare plot or the time spent on Le and the doc, though I'm always happy for more Sam Lin even if it comes in the form of a weird late stage and wholly unnecessary ship.

My favorite scene between Yuan and Qian in this episode was far and away the discussion on the stairs with Qian reflecting on his fears of becoming more like his mother and Yuan biting him to snap him out of his fatalistic attitude (this felt like such a classic Priest tribute, she always has biting in her romances). It was a helpful re-centering of what they do for each other and why Yuan is an important presence in Qian's life. I didn't think we needed the health scare for Qian, but I did love Qian choosing to go to this place where he found Yuan to contemplate his life and what matters, with Yuan in turn reflecting that even though he's seen a lot more of the world now, he still prefers to come home to this street. I found that exchange so moving and I think it was important for Qian to hear that.

And that scene led to my other favorite thing in this episode, which was everything to do with Lili and her bond with her brothers. I teared up to see her standing against the wall where Qian has measured their growth talking about the sneaky ways she would try to care for Qian when they were younger, with San Pang listening attentively and gazing at her adoringly. It was such a small moment, but a really lovely window into their relationship dynamic and the shared history they also have together. And when Yuan and Qian came in hand in hand and she just ran to them and offered up her love and acceptance, I felt so much warmth for this family and everything they've survived together.

[sacredfixation]

Mobius files a report on the misuse of the metaphor kit he gave Loki

TVA REPORT – INCIDENT #58738:

Distribution and misuse of Dedicated Metaphor Kit, a Post-Incident Analysis

Filed by: Agent Mobius M. Mobius

Date: [REDACTED]

Subject: Laufeyson, Loki

Incident Summary:

Following a series of disruptions, including but not limited to the unauthorized confiscation of my lunch (henceforth referred to as The Salad Incident), a decision was made to provide Loki with a “Metaphor Kit.” The kit was intended as a pedagogical tool, designed to aid the Variant in understanding abstract concepts without resorting to the destruction of personal property. Items included:

• One (1) foam apple (temptation)

• One (1) rubber frog (chaotic leaps into action)

• One (1) small sand timer (time management and consequences)

• One (1) rubber chicken (disruption and disorder)

The kit was presented to the Variant under strict guidelines for appropriate use, which were immediately ignored.

Immediate Outcome:

• Loki expressed initial amusement, followed by sustained misuse of the provided materials.

• The foam apple became a recurring prop during mission debriefs, often accompanied by sarcastic monologues.

• The sand timer was repeatedly flipped during tense moments, exacerbating existing tensions in high-pressure situations.

• The rubber chicken was deployed in multiple inappropriate contexts, including as a distraction during a classified briefing.

• The rubber frog was used symbolically to mock my efforts at maintaining order, culminating in an unauthorized “leap” onto my desk during work hours.

Impact on Agent Mobius:

• Emotional Toll: Elevated stress levels resulting from constant ridicule and prop-related disruptions.

• Workplace Disruption: Significant time lost attempting to refocus Loki after metaphor kit-related antics.

• Personal Well-being: Persistent headaches reported, likely caused by repeated interactions with the rubber chicken.

Recommendations:

1. Discontinue the use of metaphor kits with Loki

2. Institute a stricter no-prop policy during debriefings.

3. Consider mandatory “Respecting Personal Space and Property” workshops for Loki.

4. Implement mandatory approval process for new teaching methods

Any future attempts to introduce non-standard educational tools or methods to Loki should require pre-approval from senior TVA staff, preferably after thorough risk assessment.

5. Establish designated metaphor-free zones

Common areas such as the cafeteria, briefing rooms, and hallways should be designated as metaphor-free zones to prevent Loki from staging impromptu ‘lessons.’

6. Introduce a post-incident recovery protocol for affected agents

Several agents expressed confusion and mild existential distress following Loki’s metaphor lessons. Consider introducing a support group or brief counseling sessions for agents exposed to prolonged philosophical ramblings.

7. Avoid future attempts to teach Loki lessons through tangible items, this approach is prone to backfire in unpredictable and highly irritating ways.

Agent Commentary:

I initially believed that providing Loki with a non-consumable, symbolic toolset would curb his tendency to disrupt order. Instead, I inadvertently handed him an arsenal of chaos disguised as learning aids. Loki now considers himself a ‘Master of Metaphors’ and insists on offering unsolicited ‘lessons’ to fellow agents, turning the office into something resembling a chaotic philosophy seminar. In hindsight, expecting Loki to handle anything with seriousness was a lapse in judgment. I regret everything.

Conclusion:

This experiment has proven that attempting to outsmart Loki Laufeyson with symbolic gestures or educational tools is futile. Future containment strategies should prioritize direct action over clever solutions. Attempts at intellectual engagement will inevitably lead to frustration, chaos, and, in my case, severe metaphor-induced migraines.

End of Report

[aardelea]

The moment it clicks

Hi everyone!

There are already so many amazing fanfics out there featuring Haru, but I decided to challenge myself and write confession scenes for all the ghouls in short stories. So here’s my version of Haru’s story, where our MC, named Hana in this piece, finally gets a chance to spend some quality time together after weeks of interruptions.

After a series of unexpected interruptions, they finally get a moment to connect and share something meaningful.

And now, here's the fluffy stuff. Enjoy!

This time, everything had to go right. For two weeks, poor Haru had been trying to find a quiet moment to talk to you, but circumstances kept forcing either him or you to interrupt the conversation.

Two days ago, when he thought nothing could go wrong, and just as he reached for your hand to give weight to his words, Peekaboo, who had been snuggled comfortably in Haru’s baby carrier, threw up everything in his tiny stomach, evenly distributing it over both of you. What should have been the moment for him to finally pour his heart out ended in a comedic situation, full of laughter and disgust. Instead, he had to send you home and return to his dorm to clean up both Peekaboo and himself. He adored the little guy, but honestly, there couldn't have been a worse time for stomach trouble.

As Haru walked back across campus towards Jabberwock, he saw you in the distance, standing at Sho’s food truck, chatting with Sho and Subaru. He paused for a moment, watching the scene. You were beaming as you accepted the food from Sho, and Haru couldn’t help but wish that he were the reason behind that radiant smile on your face.

He had admired you ever since you first came to help at Jabberwock. Your determination and work ethic proved that he had found a truly invaluable assistant. But there was something more. Your unfathomable kindness towards both humans and anomalies stirred feelings in him that he thought were long forgotten. How could someone going through such a difficult situation as you still carry so much patience and love inside them?

When Haru finally realized the depth of his feelings for you, he was unsure what to do with himself for a long time. You spent a lot of time at Jabberwock, even helping out in your free time when assigned to other houses, but did he even dare to hope that your frequent visits had anything to do with him?

Despite his easygoing nature, Haru was far too humble to think that you might see him any differently than everyone else. Besides, he couldn’t help but notice that several of the other ghouls were starting to look at you in a way that suggested they, too, had begun to harbor feelings. Sooner or later, they would surely make their move. After all, who would miss the chance to hold onto someone as special as you?

This longing was so palpable that Haru decided to give in to it. If he were to lose you to someone else, he at least wanted to make sure you knew how much you and your time together meant to him. There wouldn’t be another opportunity for this confession if your heart had already been claimed by someone else. Whatever your answer might be, he’d accept it.

As he stood there, absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck, he suddenly felt two large hands on his shoulders, startling him so much that he nearly jumped.

“Aaaah, Towa! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He turned around and looked up at Towa, who was happily humming to himself. Haru’s reaction seemed to amuse him. “I’ve told you before, this sneaking up on people thing could really end badly one day. What are you even doing here at this hour? Shouldn’t you be watching over the herd in the field?”

Towa chuckled softly and shook his head, then pointed toward where Haru had been staring dreamily just moments ago. You were now standing at a high table with Subaru and Haku, who had joined you while Haru was distracted.

“Hm? Were you looking for Hana?” Haru asked, confused. Towa scrunched up his face and shook his head again. Still humming, he gently placed his hands on Haru’s shoulders and began to push him in your direction.

“Hey hey hey, Towa! What are you doing?! I don’t have time for this, and I wasn’t even planning on going over there!” But Haru’s words were in vain. Towa continued to steer him toward your table, and Haru knew that resisting was pointless. Towa was far too strong to break free from his grip.

“Oh, Haru, Towa! It’s so nice to see you!” When the two Jabberwock ghouls came into your view, you couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. “I was planning to come by and see you guys after I finished eating. Do you want something? The food here is amazing!”

Towa, with an eerily quick and skillful move, took Haru’s baby carrier—with Peekaboo still inside—strapped it onto himself, and waved goodbye to you all as he headed back toward Jabberwock.

Haru stared after Towa, completely baffled, before turning back to you and the group with a sheepish grin. “Hahaha... I honestly have no idea what got into Towa, but it seems he really wanted to see you, Hana. Hello, Haku and Subaru. Sorry about this, I didn’t mean to crash your little get-together.”

Haku gave a knowing smile and shook his head. “No worries. I wasn’t planning to stay long anyway. Subaru, are you coming back to the dorm after this? There are some documents I’d like to go over with you.”

Subaru blinked, looking between Haku, Haru, and then you, as if something suddenly clicked. “Ah, yes, of course. Thanks for reminding me.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Excuse me, this is a little embarrassing, but I completely forgot about that. Let’s go now, Haku. I can finish eating back at the dorm. See you later, Hana!”

Both you and Haru watched the two leave, equally confused. Haru turned to you apologetically. “I can’t shake the feeling that this is somehow my fault. Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.”

You shook your head with a reassuring smile. “Oh, it’s fine. Subaru and Haku are really busy. It’s not uncommon for him to rush off for Hotarubi’s duties. You know how that is as a captain better than anyone.”

Haru chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck again. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Well, now that your company’s gone, I suppose I owe it to you to stick around, huh?”

“You sure do. Grab something to eat! We haven’t eaten together in ages!” With your cute expression, Haru couldn’t resist, so he gave in and headed over to the food truck to get himself something as well. With a steaming bowl of food in hand, he returned to join you.

As you ate, you talked about the tasks you still had to complete for the day and laughed a lot while speculating what Jabberwock might look like if Ren or Towa had all the resources they needed to run things. When you were both done, you disposed of your trash and started walking toward the safari park together.

“You’ve been wanting to talk to me about something for a while now. What’s it about?” You looked up at Haru, curiosity in your eyes. That knot of anxiety tightened in your chest as you saw him avert his gaze, laughing nervously.

“Aaaah, you know... I’m not sure if this is the right time. We could always find another moment to—”

“Nope.” You came to an abrupt stop, gently grabbing his arm. You were now standing just outside the entrance to the safari park. “We’ve been trying to do this for so long, and something always gets in the way. Who knows what might happen in Jabberwock next? Come on. Talk to me.”

You tried your best not to sound pleading, but Haru surely noticed the slight tremor in your voice. He looked down at the ground, seeming a little sad, but then glanced back up at you.

“I’d hoped I’d look a bit more presentable when I finally talked to you about this, but... well, there’s no point putting it off...”

“I like you, Hana.”

Your heart began to race as warmth spread through you, filling you with joy. “I like you too, Haru!”

“Hahaha, that’s sweet, but you don’t understand. I really like you. Your kindness, your compassion... even the anomalies in the park adore you, especially Peekaboo. And me... well, I like everything about you. So much that it’s hard to think of anything else. I just wanted to tell you that before...”

You stepped closer, looking into his still-troubled face. “And how is that any different from the way I like you?”

“Well, I thought I came across to you more like a... Wait.” Haru froze as the realization hit him, and excitement flickered across his face. “Are you serious?”

“Jokester. Of course I’m serious. That’s something I’d never joke about.” Although his question confused you a little, the happiness in you far outweighed it. “I’ve been hoping you’d see me the same way I see you.”

“But why didn’t you ever say anything? I had no ide—” Before he could finish, you wrapped your arms gently around his neck, pulling him closer. With a warm gaze and a soft smile, you tried to ease away the doubts that seemed to be haunting him. The initial shock of your sudden touch faded, and Haru finally relaxed into the embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist. A relieved smile slowly spread across his face.

He leaned down and tilted his head slightly, pressing his lips tenderly to yours. It was perhaps the most wonderful feeling you had ever experienced, and you eagerly returned his kiss. As your lips parted, he gently trailed kisses from the corner of your mouth, along your cheek, to your ear.

You stayed in each other’s arms for a little while longer until your vibrating phones pulled you back to reality. A bit reluctantly, you both pulled away and silenced your alarms. “Time to go milk the cows...” Haru muttered, sounding disappointed.

“While I go feed the new arrival in the enclosure.”

Haru put his phone away, reached up, and gently held the back of your neck, pulling you close enough to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

You stroked his cheek, then turned toward the park entrance. “You’ve got your own charms, you know?” You grinned at him and offered him your hand. “Shall we?”

[fuwahua]

Boo

Tktober Day 5 - Boo!

Tags: Shenhe/Yunjin, Halloween, trick or treating, flirting <3

“Trick or treat!”

“Boo.”

“A—AAAAAA!”

“Ah? Wait, you forgot your… candy…”

Yunjin muffles a giggle as the gaggle of children run sprinting from their doorstep, leaving a Shenhe with her arm still outstretched, a wrapped candy hung from her fingertips, alone.

“I don’t understand,” Shenhe says. “I was told by shifu that this behavior would delight children. I do not understand why they are screaming and running away.”

Oh my. Where to begin with this one?

“Why not shut the door first?”

Shenhe doesn’t seem to notice, lingering with the bowl of candy in her arm.

Yunjin was surprised at first when Shenhe returned home from a family visit with Xianyun with an armful full of orange, black, and purple fabrics. “For Halloween,” she’d explained, and then dove into a parsed down lecture of what her mentor had told her: that it was a tradition originating from Natlan, that it was growing in popularity amongst children overseas, and that the traveler wanted to host a Halloween celebration in Liyue. The city of commerce had no issues with a potentially booming candy and clothing trade opportunity and welcomed the new holiday with open arms.

Yunjin was no exception. The festive mood swept up everyone in it, but none more than the children who had taken to the idea of “new clothes” and “free candy” by storm; she’d ended up with matching witch outfits for Shenhe and her both to wear while distributing their sweets.

If only… the kids would stay long enough to receive them.

“Oh darling,” Yunjin sighs, rising from their sofa to retrieve the bowl and close the door. Shenhe glances at her, face unmoving, but she knows her girlfriend well enough to know the hurt reflecting in those eyes. “They’re just kids. They don’t know any better yet.”

“I know that.”

Even so, it doesn’t soothe the pain of rejection. Yunjin coaxes Shenhe back to the couch, placing the bowl on the table before wrapping her arms around the other. “It’s still early. All of Liyue will be knocking on our door later tonight, right?”

“And if they run?”

“More chocolate for us.”

“Ganyu shijie says that’s called gluttony.”

Shenhe’s mouth twitches as Yunjin titters. Her eyes slant, pleased, and Yunjin brushes back white hair with a hum. “Now that’s a face. Why not smile at the kids instead of scaring them?”

As though embarrassed, Shenhe’s face smooths. “What smile?”

“The smile you just had.”

“I wasn’t smiling.”

Really? Yunjin raises a brow, stretching Shenhe’s cheeks and lips into a makeshift smile. “How about this one?”

“Shiz nawt ah zmeele.”

“I have no idea what you just said.” Yunjin shakes her head, feeling a grin surface on her face instead. She pinches Shenhe’s cheek. “Mmm… I might have an idea on how to get you smiling.”

“Weelly?”

Oh, her sweet, gorgeous girlfriend. “Let’s give it a try.”

It’s a testament to Shenhe’s trust in her that she doesn’t so much as flinch when Yunjin gathers her arms and pulls them to the side, freeing one hand to poke at Shenhe’s stomach. Shenhe doesn’t so much as gasp.

A flutter to the sides. Nothing.

A skirt up the ribs. Nada.

A pinch to the armpits. Nope.

“Wait—are you not ticklish?” No fair! Yunjin digs in with intent now, both hands wriggling, tickling the way she knew would drive her crazy, but there’s no laughter. If anything, the amusement beginning to dawn in Shenhe’s eyes is dangerous, and Yunjin realizes too late the situation she’d placed herself in, squarely on her girlfriend’s lap. “Um—I’m just—eek!”

The poke on her side shouldn’t be a total surprise but Yunjin squeaks, erring back only to flop onto the sofa as Shenhe sits upright to straddle her instead. Heat rushes to her face at the position though it’s a little hard to focus when another series of jabs follows the first. “S-Shehenhe!”

“Like this?”

“W-whahaha do you meahahn?”

“Tickling,” Shenhe says, easy. “Am I doing it right?”

She squirms, caught between shaking her head and having Shenhe stop, or honestly nodding because her naïve, beautiful girlfriend has dreadfully perfect nails for going at her sides. At least Shenhe is slow, careful, and airy giggles bubble out of her when Shenhe’s hands crawl up her ribs in a mimicry of her own movements. “Y-you’rehehe doing okahahay!”

Shenhe frowns. “Just okay?”

Really, what is she meant to say? Yunjin’s smile widens in flustered endearment, hands rising to cover her face, arms shaking when Shenhe pinches the top of her ribs.

“You’re greahahahaat! N-nohoho, Shenhehehe!”

“No?” Shenhe’s frown softens, teasing, and Yunjin swears her heart drums louder than any opera she’d sung before. “Are you sure?”

She yelps as Shenhe digs into her underarms, hands immediately clamping to her sides in a failed attempt to protect them. The sofa creaks as she shifts, mouth wide in hapless giggles and shrieks when Shenhe moves just right, and it’s through squinty eyes that she realizes Shenhe’s hair has pooled around their faces and all she can see is the gentle smile pulling at pale lips. Beautiful.

“Y-YOUHOHA—!”

“Me?”

Yunjin whines, a low sort of noise no one would associate with the elegant singer, fingers trembling as they fail to dislodge Shenhe’s still wandering hands. Novice they may be, she’s sensitive enough that the attack is beginning to tire her out and Yunjin shakes her head in desperation. “Shenehehe, pleaheahahase!”

The plea is instantaneous; Shenhe removes her hands with ease, opting to lift Yunjin upright against her in a smooth motion that makes her giggles bashful. She always admired Shenhe’s strength but having it so cleanly demonstrated to her by her is… always a charming experience.

Even more so accompanied by the graceful curve of those lips.

“Really,” Yunjin chuckles, poking at Shenhe’s cheek. She sags against her, humming, as Shenhe’s smile remains soft. Achingly, wonderfully beautiful. “What a face.”

Shenhe blinks, lips parting. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, it’s perfect.” You’re perfect.

The smile that comment earns her truly is. She tilts her face upwards and the ghost of Shenhe’s breath on her is warm—

“Trick or treat!”

“Tch.”

Yunjin bursts into laughter at the pure irritation that crosses Shenhe’s gaze, yearning at once falling into barely restrained rage. Really, how could people call her girlfriend emotionless when she was so obvious? The knocking continues, a mini barrage of fists pounding on their doors with every passing second. Shenhe’s lips tremble and Yunjin bites down the urge to kiss it away as she pats Shenhe’s arm, shifting to the side so she may rise.

“Go on,” she says, gesturing to their still thumping door. “Don’t forget the candy!”

Shenhe pouts. “Can we ignore them?”

The banging almost seems to get louder. Yunjin’s lips twitch. “All the kids of Liyue?”

“None of them are as important as you.”

Oh, that does get her heart fluttering. Yunjin’s gaze softens, adoring, yet she doesn’t relent as she squeezes Shenhe’s hand. Eager as she is to spend the night trading treats and kisses with the other, Shenhe would be happier to report to Xianyun her success at reigning in her urges and appealing to the kids instead. “What will you tell your master?”

“There’s always next year?”

She laughs as Shenhe’s pout melts, loving, and it’s with a final squeeze of her fingers that her beloved rises to answer the door. The chatter of eager children spills in from the doorway, a chorus of pleas for candy and comments on the pretty jiejie, and Yunjin grins into the sofa. True to her words, the knocks continue for the next hour or two as every child makes sure to stop by their house for some sugary sweets. It’s almost a shame that no one’s noticed the best treat of them all.

Shenhe turns to her, smiling, and Yunjin smiles back.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Headcanons: More Zanpakuto Inconveniences

Part I can be found here. More unexpected Zanpakuto drawbacks.

Genryusai Yamamoto: Ryujin Jakka

Gets performance anxiety sometimes and produces a teeny flame akin to a cigarette lighter

If it feels neglected or like Yamamoto has been too harsh with it, it heats itself up to a point where he can’t hold his zanpakuto without burning himself

Enjoys campfire s’mores and forces Yamamoto to make them for it, causing him to send Sasakibe into town to sneak in Graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows. It can’t eat it, but enjoys the feeling of the chocolate and marshmallows melting over its flames, and Yamamoto has to distribute them to other squad members, insisting he was just being generous.

Shunsui Kyoraku: Katen Kyokotsu (KK)

Turns everything into a game. People around it find themselves unwittingly participating in games like:

Duck Duck Goose : random shinigami will suddenly against their will sit in a circle while the menacing spirit of KK hovers over  them before deeming one person goose. The confused shinigami is now chasing KK with no way of winning until KK gets bored and releases them from the game

Simon Says : KK gives the most ridiculous commands such as jumping on 1 leg in midair while singing nursery rhymes, or to have droves of Shinigami simply chase Shunsui around the Seireitei. 

Tag : the most chaotic and devastating one. Seriously, this should be a real battle maneuver. All the shinigami run after each other without the faintest clue who they need to catch

After the Simon Says incident, Shunsui was forced to find a way to control KK. This is why he drinks so much sake, it makes KK drowsy and in turn, the other shinigami are free from its antics

Mayuri Kurotsuchi : Ashisogi Jizo

Always smells like rotten eggs for some reason

Because of it’s caterpillar like appearance, it needs to eat and moult frequently. Mayuri gives it lots of leafy vegetables laced with different poisons to keep its ability up but then it goes into the pupa stage and he can’t use it until it breaks out. 

Cries like a baby until Mayuri picks it up and cuddles it, after which it drapes itself around his neck like a weird slimy boa. He has to carry it everywhere now, much to his ire and the amusement of his squad. 

[ligyuan]

SPONSORSHIPS & THE ACTIVITY SQUARE 🦢 laurier academy dr

hi. uh. I may have forgotten abt this blog... BUT I HAVE SOME NEW IDEAS SO... do expect some posts.

Sponsorships. Laurier has a ton of them.

What do sponsorships do (other than provide laurier with money, lmao) and how do they affect students?

table of contents:

sponsorships: the academy - how sponsorships affect the academy

the activity square - purpose

sponsorships: student body - perks students get

clubs - what do sponsorships do for clubs

sponsorships: the academy

It definitely depends on the sponsor and how much Laurier allows them to do. For example, sometimes, a sponsor will only give students discount codes to use on their website through text. Other times, sponsors will be able to set up a stall in the entertainment street of Laurier's campus.

Generally, sponsors hope for the students to post about the food, makeup, skincare, service, stationary, or whatever online so that other people will buy from the brand.

Sometimes, brands will be specifically stationed in the amendities buildings (Aeos, Idle Hour, ReFlow, and Espoa).

Do expect some flyers hanging around about the brands-- some brands may even advertise a coupon code on the poster.

the activity square

The activity square is essentially the entertainment area. Cafes, student run events, Aeos, Idle Hour, ReFlow, Espoa, and Lemuna are here.

Lemuna (le-moo-na) is essentially the sponsor building. New products are constantly introduced here. Usually they're discounted, and oftentimes students will do a Lemuna haul/tour every week or month.

What kinds of companies like to distribute their products here?:

Espoir

LilybyRed

Romand

Snack companies

Stationary companies

Isntree

Flower knows

Fwee

Judydoll

Parnell

Shisedo

Peripera

Clio

Wakemake

Amuse

Infold pte. ltd (Mostly love nikki stuff)

These are not the only companies that sponsor Laurier, this is just a short list. A lot of the times, free bees are given out to students. While makeup and skincare are more popularly sponsored here, you can find other things like ramen, ice cream, gum, and hair products here too.

sponsorships: the student body

As mentioned previously, laurier students receive discounts at sponsored shops. Students may also receive free PR, but usually companies like to target the top 30~ students in the school.

Students ranked in the top 10 should expect to receive at least 1-3 products through PR per week.

clubs

The script states that companies often sponsor clubs. Club company sponsors tend to receive stuff more often from the company, and companies usually correspond with the theme of the club.

Like for (my fav) the Afternoon Tea club, since it's a lolita fashion club, Flowerknows, Devil Inspired, and some smaller brands like Angelic Pretty like to sponsor this club.

Companies will financially aid the club and send in their products for the students to use either for free with no obligation to post about it, or in exchange for posting/directly advertising the products.