#and on the other side of things it makes it virtually impossible for one of your youngsters to leave if they personally wanted to

[trentskis]

lamine yamal is 16 years old and is set to have a release clause of 1 billion too. we’re just making sure nobody snatches our youngsters

yes i get this! i think the post is being misunderstood i moreso meant it's just such a huge sum of money to consider for one player, just like a eight-year contract at chelsea is such a long time. it was more like woah look at the volume of these two things

[shinobicyrus]

I've seen a lot of posts about Batman using his Bruce Wayne alter ego for the good of Gotham: job programs for felons released from prison, orphanages, charities, high wages for his employees, ethical business practices...the legendary post where Bruce Wayne goes to Wal-Mart.

Thus far I've never personally seen anybody really dig into the persona of Bruce Wayne the Billionaire Playboy. A handsome, rich, powerful man who always is seen at fancy galas, art openings, charity dinners, and wild parties with at least one beautiful woman on his arm.

We know Bruce Wayne is the mask, and its Batman who has a...complex love life, depending on the iteration we're talking about. Talia, Catwoman, sometimes Wonder Woman.

Bruce Wayne's dates, on the other hand, are all "normal" people. Maybe they're an aspiring actress, a supermodel, a prima ballerina, the occasional reporter...and every time there's that bit of nervousness at the start.

Sure everyone knows Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows the story with him. Sometimes his wilder parties make the news, but there's never really been anything nasty reported about him. Never...allegations. But he's a billionaire. He's one of the most powerful people in the whole city, nevermind the country. If he did have some skeletons in his closet. Well. Men with power have a way of making those kinds of stories go away, don't they?

As time goes on the Date's fears dissipate pretty quickly. Bruce Wayne is nothing but polite, kind, and at times charmingly awkward in an 'raised by his butler in a mansion' kind of way with his dates. Some of them can tell he's holding back, of course. Maybe the more perceptive Dates notice he's smarter than he lets on - playing the himbo or hamming up the "know-nothing rich boy" act to the cameras or some of his wealthy peers.

He also listens, is the thing. He's always listening to what they're saying, is interested in hearing about their careers, their hobbies, their lives. Really listens, too. Might refer to something a Date said weeks later off-hand. Buy out the whole museum for a private dinner date with a famous painting from an obscure artist they like, or a private performance with another's favorite band.

He has anecdotes and funny stories for days that somehow says very little about his personal life. The Dates know he has kids (it's practically a running gag in the news that Bruce Wayne has adopted yet another orphan) and maybe she might spot one of them at the mansion, but Bruce seems very keen to shelter them from any intense spotlight and scrutiny, and they all seem happy if a bit weird like him.

Eventually, there's drifting. He's a very busy man, with a very busy schedule. On more than on occasion his nice old butler will call and extend apologies that Mr. Wayne will not be able to make it this evening. Sometimes it's virtually impossible to get a hold of him over the phone. After a while they stop trying. None of them feel quite surprised by that. In the end, it just doesn't work. Sure, he's a little distant and doesn't make himself emotionally available...but he's not a bad person.

Especially when the so-called "exes" of Bruce Wayne start networking. Gotham isn't a small city, but the social circles Bruce Wayne travels in aren't as big. They don't quite gossip or complain about him. More like...who else would get it?

(I touched his side once and he winced...like he'd been hurt real bad there. He laughed and said it was tackle polo. How does that even-?)

(Somehow, after two dates, he saw right through me and listened while I told him what that casting director tried to do. He nodded, gave me the contact details of a law firm, and said not to worry about the legal fees.)

(I don't know for sure it was him, but it can't be a coincidence that my building got bought out from under my shitty landlord and we were all able to buy our apartments under market value.)

(He got my brother in the best rehab program in the city after his relapse. It probably saved his life. We'd stopped dating months ago, I still don't know how he found out.)

(He gave me a card with a phone number and told me that if I was ever in trouble to call it. Said one of his cars would come to pick me up, any time, any place, no questions asked. The one time I did have to use it after a bad party, it was Alfred.)

I think any tabloid reporter digging around for salacious stories or dirt about Bruce Wayne's love life would be completely and politely stonewalled when they try asking his former Dates. Even when money is offered. Every single one of them.

[hannieehaee]

Imagine workaholic gf!reader of equally workaholic bf!woozi where they both take a few days leave to enjoy each other and book a luxurious honeymoon suite hotel room thinking they will have a lot of sex with their days off but instead end up with cuddling and lazy make out sessions because their exhaustion just swooshes over them owo

18+ / mdi

content: workaholic!woozi x workaholic!reader, afab reader, heavy mentions of smut, making out, very suggestive, etc.

wc: 1262

a/n: i can really picture jihoon dating a fellow workaholic lol anyways thank u for requesting<3

masterlist

"fuck, finally," you sighed in relief, letting yourself fall backwards onto the cool bed in the luxury hotel room jihoon had reserved.

after endless weeks of equally endless work, you finally had a week off, which jihoon had strategically coordinated with his own time off.

the two of you were extremely hard workers – to a fault. when jihoon bad first met you, he worried that maybe his addiction to constant work would eventually drive you away, yet somehow it had continued to keep you right by his side. you preferred that he was a workaholic, you had once told him. there had apparently been a few prior relationships in which your heavy workload had led to irreparable issues. jihoon being equally as busy as you allowed you to work without feeling guilt of leaving your partner behind – jihoon felt the exact same way.

despite the unspoken agreement the two of you had in regards to the dynamic of your relationship, it sometimes still got to you when you'd realize how little time you were able to spend with your boyfriend – once more, jihoon felt the exact same way.

your individual lives were already difficult to navigate, but making time for each other was even more complicated. your exhaustion was a whole different issue. working as much as the two of you did, it was understandable that you'd spend the lulls in your schedule resting as much as you could rather than with each other. it was a sad truth, but still remained a truth.

it wasn't as if you spent no time together, though. you'd always either see each other in the mornings (either through call or in person – depending on whether jihoon was in the country at the time or not) or at night, always making sure to love on one another as a reminder of the thriving affection in your relationship. you'd also dedicate one night per week to have a stay-at-home date night. everything was perfectly tailored to your relationship, and the two of you were more than happy with it.

these past few weeks had been the issue. as jihoon had a comeback and you had an important project at work, it was virtually impossible for you to see each other as of late. it got to you in all the worst ways, making you moody, irritable, tired, and even sexually frustrated. not only were you physically exhausted of the constant work, but you had been deprived of your daily dosage of jihoon. you had not slept together in weeks, nor had you even had a meal with each other. cuddling? completely out of the question with the insanely packed schedule you'd been having.

it all went like this for the both of you for a few weeks, up until everything managed to reach a standstill. you had a few days off, and jihoon had the ability to move some things around to match your time off. without so much as one word from you, jihoon had decided it was the perfect time to whisk you away on a private getaway at some luxury hotel of your choice.

jihoon wasnt really one to go out much, unbeknownst to you, but jihoon had been feeling extremely pent up from the last moment he got to have you all to himself. the short glimpses of you he managed to catch throughout the busy weeks were the only thing that had kept him going. the singular thought of the next time he'd he'd get to have you was the only thing occupying his mind. renting out a room for the week was the most obvious of choices to jihoon. he would finally get to explore the sheets with you.

upon arriving to the hotel, jihoon chuckled at how pleased you seemed with the place, immediately letting yourself loose on the bed and sighing in contentment. putting down the suitcases, jihoon joined you soon after, still fully clothed as he laid next to you, staring up at the ceiling.

"are you as tired as i am?", you asked him.

he hummed in affirmation, "yeah. what do you wanna do first?"

the unspoken agreement to utilize the week on sex had filled up the room before you had even arrived, so it was obvious what he was referring to.

"i'll take a quick bath first, okay, baby?", you said as you began to get up, stretching your muscles in the process.

"sure, baby. i'll head down to the gym for a bit to unwind then. i'll see you in about an hour, then?"

with a sweet peck, you bid your boyfriend goodbye, giddy to get yourself relaxed and perfumed so your boyfriend could help you destress under the sheets.

~

the bath had been a huge success in terms of getting you relaxed. after an hour lying in the warmest, bubbliest, comfiest water imaginable to man, you felt like a brand new person. accompanied by a lavender-scented bath bomb, a glass of wine and your favorite netflix show playing in the background, you got out of that bath in the best mood you'd been in in weeks.

the one downside was how incredibly relaxed the bath had gotten you. you were so relaxed, you could've fallen victim to endless slumber in that bathtub. as much as you needed jihoon to fuck you to sleep, you weren't sure how well you'd be able to perform if you tried to return the favor.

luckily for you, that would not be an issue.

upon walking back into the room, now donning some comfortable pajamas, you were met with the sight of a fully-asleep jihoon, cocooned between the sheets as he snored softly. the sight had you swooning with affection for the boy. he was the softest, most relaxing thing you had ever seen.

you couldn't help yourself in making your way to him, somehow maneuvering yourself into his arms and under the sheets, feeling more relaxed than ever.

before you could even close your eyes, the boy shuffled behind you, mumbling against your ear as he cuddled further into you.

"baby?", he mumbled.

"sorry, baby. did i wake you?"

"hmm, no you're fine. i meant to stay awake for you, but the bed's just so damn comfy," he chuckled breathily, "i took a quick shower downstairs to prepare for, you know, but fuck, i'm just so tired," he whined.

you turned around in his arms, facing him, breaths almost intertwined due to the proximity.

"that's okay, hoonie. 'm so sleepy. maybe ... we could leave it for tomorrow? just sleep in and then we can have some fun tomorrow?" you suggested, pressing a soft peck to his lips.

his arms tightened around your waist, not allowing you to pull back all the way, "only if you kiss me some more," he murmured, eyes stuck to your lips.

"i can agree to that," you giggled, pressing a languid kiss to his lips as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, softly intertwining with your own in a wet kiss.

the rest of the evening was spent softly making out under the warm sheets, legs tangled up together and fully relaxed in each other's arms. sex was the last thing on your mind as you kissed each other every so often, mostly focused on holding onto one another and finding your slumber together. however, this exhaustion did not stop you from waking up the following day, claiming your highs from one another time after time throughout the day, ready to recharge at night and continue the pattern day after day.

[lovebugism]

66. you’re sick and I feel bad because I’m pretty sure i gave it to you, so I bring you some of my great grandmother’s soup and watch movies with you with Eddie Spaghetti please 🥺

ty for requesting!! — eddie makes you soup (like the angel he is) after accidentally getting you sick (friends in love, fluff, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

It’s a virtually impossible thing, you realize, to operate like a normal human being when you’re sick. 

You’re reduced to a withering thing on your couch, rotting from the inside and out, and drowning in a sea of crumpled-up tissues. In your fever-induced hysteria, you’re pretty sure you’re dying when a knock sounds at your door. 

You shout a hoarse “come in” with all the strength you have left. The last person you expect to walk in is Eddie Munson.

He’s wearing smudged eyeliner and a pink smile when enters your living room. His chestnut hair is more wild than you’re used to, but his eyes are made of a familiar melted chocolate. There’s a plastic bag in his pale, ringed hand, full of stuff you can’t make out.

You think he might be an angel. 

“Eddie?” you sigh in a tiny voice, scratchy and quiet. 

You look at him like no one’s ever looked at him before. Not like you’re excited to see him. No, it’s more than that — it’s like you’re relieved. Like out of a billion people that could’ve stepped through that doorway, you’re happiest that it’s him.

He cowers under the weight of your twinkling, tired gaze. 

“Yeah. Hi. Sorry to, like, come over without calling or anything,” he apologizes, laughing awkwardly as he shifts his weight on his dirty sneakers. “But I felt a little bad about getting you sick at Steve’s the other night. I was gonna stay home, but Dustin wanted me to go. He insisted on it, actually—”

He’s rambling like an idiot, making a total fool of himself. He doesn’t know why you’re smiling so gently at him like you find it all endearing. “It’s not your fault, Eds,” you assure, voice slightly stuffy, as you shake your head at him.

“Well, it kinda is, actually, so…” Another awkward laugh tumbles from his smiling mouth. In his shyness, his gaze flits from yours to the bag in his hand. “I, uh— I wanted to do something nice, you know? Like, make you soup or something. But then I realized I don’t actually know how to cook, so I went to the store and got some of the canned stuff.”

“Oh,” you hum, then sniffle. “Thank you, Eddie. That’s— That’s really nice of you.”

“It’s no problem. Really. I can make it for you if you want. Or microwave it, I guess. So you can, you know, rest of whatever.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“I want to.”

“I just don’t want you to get sick,” you agonize, face scrunched with a distant worry.

Eddie grins at your concern and shrugs off every ounce of it. “I already had it. So I’m basically immune at this point, right? I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s how the science works, anyway.”

You laugh for the first time in three days. You forget how sick you are until the action makes your chest ache. Your smile is weighed down by exhaustion, but it doesn’t waver once when you look at him. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

Even though your muscles are achy, you manage to walk yourself to the kitchen. You tell Eddie you can put the soup on yourself, but he isn’t having any of it. He walks you back to the couch and warms it up for you — even puts it in a heart-shaped bowl he found in your cabinet, ‘cause he thought it might make you feel a little better.

He tastes it with a separate spoon to make sure it isn’t too hot, then rushes back to your side in record time.

“Thank you,” you murmur when he passes you the newly warmed-up soup. The words come out more scratchy than you mean for them to. You try to clear your throat, but you don’t think it makes it any better.

“Don’t thank me— I’m the reason you’re in this mess,” he laughs and sits on the couch beside you. He keeps a cushion of space between you, lest he get any closer and make you uncomfortable. “So, I’m not, like, above spoon-feeding it to you or anything.”

You try to laugh at his dumb joke. It comes out in a single, hoarse breath that makes your chest sting. “I think I got it from here. Thanks for the offer, though.”

Eddie runs out of stupid things to say and the apartment goes silent. 

Your TV plays so low it’s basically on mute, and your neighbors talk on their porch outside — the sound of both gets increasingly louder without either of you talking over them.

He doesn’t know what to say — how to tell you that he’d like to spend more time with you without actually having to say the words. Confessing his schoolboy crush out loud, to the pretty girl he got sick, would be the least metal thing he’s ever done.

“Do you wanna, like, put on a movie or something?” he offers suddenly, rubbing his ringed fingers on his dark jeans to make them feel less clammy. “I can run to Family Video and bother Steve until he lets me take something for free? Unless you’re, like, totally sick of me— which would be totally understandable—”

“No,” you interject with a shake of your head, still trying to smile even though it takes so much energy out of you. “I mean, I’d like that, but…”

“But?” Eddie repeats when you trail off, brows raised behind his fluffy bangs.

You tilt your chin to your chest and peer at him through your lashes. Your eyes are red-rimmed and glassy, still pretty enough to drown in. “Don’t you have a show tonight?” you remind him in a gentle whisper.

His heart would swell at the thought of you knowing his show schedule if it wasn’t already dropping to his ass. He’d nearly forgotten all about it, too worried about you to remember the ten people at The Hideout waiting for him.

“Fuck…” he groans and slumps against the couch. His head tilts back and bears his pretty neck for you. You can see his pale jaw clench and his adam’s apple bob when he swallows. He’s too beautiful for his own good.

“You can go. It’s okay,” you assure gently.

His chocolate eyes melt for you when he opens them again. He looks sincerely apologetic, like leaving you hurts him the most. “I’d totally stay, but—”

“I get it. It’s fine,” you repeat, still grinning ‘cause you don’t know how else to look at him. You duck your sheepish gaze to the bowl in your lap and try to joke. “I’ll survive until tomorrow… I think.”

Eddie sits up again and leans closer to you. You get a better whiff of his musky cologne and the nicotine on his breath. “You better. ‘Cause I’m definitely coming over, and we’re definitely watching a movie, alright? All day until you’re sick of me.”

Your smile grows despite your exhaustion. You feel like this is his way of asking you out — like you’re too sick and he’s too nervous, and he’d love to do it some other way, but this is all he’s got for now. It’s more than enough for you.

“Sure,” you say with a firm nod.

“I can bring you more food, too, if you want! Whatever you feel like— say that word, and you got it.”

You falter for an answer to his sudden question.

He shakes his head. “That’s okay. Call me later if you want. I should be home around ten, if that’s not too late?”

“Okay,” you smile, then clear your throat when the word gets caught there.

“I’ll see you tomorrow— Feel better by then, okay? That’s an order,” he jokes and stands back up again. 

He doesn’t know what compels him to kiss you on the cheek — only that it felt right to do it and that he didn’t even realize he was doing it until his lips brushed your warm jaw.

His cinnamon eyes go wide. His rosy mouth falls softly agape. He looks more surprised than you do, but you’re not entirely sure that’s possible. A moment you’ve been thinking about for ages just happened before you could blink. 

You don’t think that’s very fair.

Eddie tries to laugh it off. “Forget I just did that… That was— That was really weird. Sorry.”

Your cheeks burn like fire. Not from the fever this time, but from the boy in front of you. From the yearning to feel him close again. 

“I’ll talk to you tonight,” you promise, even though your throat still burns. You’re not sure you care too much, anymore. You wanna talk to him until you can’t anymore.

“Yeah,” he sighs, breathless for a reason he can’t name. He walks backwards towards the door. “See you around,” he says finally, before spinning on his sneakers and nearly tripping over your carpet.

You blink, and he’s gone. Again. 

Your burning cheek still tingles with the imprint of his mouth. He’d asked you to forget, but you don’t think that’s possible. There’s no forgetting him at all.

[therealcocoshady]

Kinktober- Day 2 - Public Humiliation

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : here is the post for the second day of Kinktober 👀. The prompt is Public Humiliation. I honestly couldn’t picture Em being into public humiliation but hey maybe I’m wrong so I decided to write about him giving it a try… for the sake of his kinky girlfriend 🙊

CW : Public humiliation - Dirty Talk - Embarrassment - Fingering - Fluff

You were almost embarrassed when you had approached Marshall, weeks ago. You’d been together for a little while and everything was going great, but confessing kinks didn’t come too easily to you, even though you trusted him. When you told him you had a thing for public humiliation, he was taken aback at first, almost hesitant. He didn’t judge you, but it wasn’t in his nature to be cruel. Sure, he’d been mean to partners in the past, cruel, even, but he was a changed man. Plus, he absolutely adored you, so being mean to you did not make any sense. He had always treated you like royalty and he hated the idea of belittling you, even if you asked for it. However, you assured him it was something you wanted, that made you feel alive I ways you could not quite explain. You’d tried to put words on it, explaining that there was something intimate, that it was all about trust and that he was, in fact, the person you trusted the most. He didn’t necessarily get it, but after some careful consideration, he agreed to give it a try, during a dinner party he hosted at his place. For obvious reasons, he could not indulge you in a very public setting, in a room full of strangers that might record the thing or talk to the press. So the safest bet was to do it in private, at his place, with people he knew and was comfortable around. You had both agreed to keep it light, but the perspective was enough for you to find it titillating. 

You knew everyone that would be present, just a few of his friends for a casual dinner party. You got along with everyone and you happily spent the day in the kitchen. You weren’t a chef but you enjoyed cooking and knowing your amazing boyfriend had agreed to indulge your kink definitely put you in a good mood. The table was set, and their guests were mingling, sipping drinks and chatting casually as Marshall sat at the head of the table, watching you move around the kitchen, plating the final dish. His heart pounded, knowing what was coming. You had agreed on what would happen and you had done everything you could to make him as comfortable as possible, even agreeing on some safe word and signal if either one of you found things to be overwhelming at some point. You both trusted each other, and he knew he could pull back at any point. He was a little stressed out, though. He’d been an asshole to partners before, sometimes even in public. Back then, drug addiction helping, he hadn’t cared too much about the consequences. But you were his queen, he revered you like some sort of deity and he was apprehensive at the thought of hurting you, breaking something about the precious relationship you shared. Also, as someone who had evolved, he was a little wary as to how people would perceive him. A decade and a half ago, he might not have cared, but now he did. He knew he would have to find some sort of balance : be enough of an asshole to titillate you, but stay on the safe side so that it wouldn’t embarrass his guests. Of course, it would have been easier in a room full of strangers he’d never have to see again, there wouldn’t have been so much at stake… But being one of the most famous rappers in the world made it virtually impossible. He couldn’t help but pick on the cruel irony that he was a public figure whose significant other had a kink for being humiliated in public. He wasn’t particularly kinky but it would probably have been easier for him to indulge you if you’d had a thing for golden showers or anything that could be done in private. As for you, you seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on in his brain, humming as you brought the dish on the table. 

Dinner began, and everything seemed normal at first. He waited for the right moment, feeling his stomach twist as he prepared for what he was about to do. « Everything alright with the cooking, babe ? », he asked. You smiled at him, your good mood apparent « All good, I think. You tell me. », you replied softly. He took a bite and looked at you, something sharp in his eyes. « You know, I would have thought but impossible to mess a dish as simple as this but… You managed, I guess. Maybe it’s a talent. », he said. A few of his friends laughed awkwardly, unsure if he was serious. After all, they were used to his dry humor. You met his gaze from across the table, your eyes shining, a glint of excitement hidden behind the feigned hurt in your expression. « Oh. I’m sorry. I did my best… », you said softly as you refrained yourself from smiling too much. « I’m sure », he shot back. « Maybe next time I’ll hire a cook. Someone who knows what they’re doing. ». 

The tension in the room thickened. You could see a couple of people share nervous glances, but Marshall didn’t stop. He knew this was what you wanted. You had asked for it, almost begged him for it in the privacy of his bedroom, but now, with all eyes on him, it felt very real. Almost too real. Yet, he continued. « Speaking of knowing what you’re doing… How’s that pet project going on for you ? », he asked with disdain. « You mean my new job ? », you asked innocently.  « Whatever you want to call it, I guess. Though an actual job would… you know… pay actual money », he shrugged. « Well, I just started doing freelance so… I’m still… um, working on it », you said as your voice got lower. The whole thing was demeaning and embarrassing. The way he looked at you with contempt, the tone he used, the way his words stung, the look on people’s faces… It was embarrassing. Humiliating. And you absolutely loved it. Marshall could see it by the way you gripped your cutlery and the flush on your face, which the guests probably mistook for embarrassment. « Right. ‘Working on it’. Though I hope you mean you’re working harder than when you’re ‘working’ in the gym. Like, if you’re going to talk about it so much, you should at least show some results. »  

The silence in the room was deafening now. Marshall’s heart raced. He hated every word coming out of his mouth, but your eyes told him to keep going. « You’re lucky you’re pretty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have a lot going on for you. », he added. Some people in the room looked absolutely mortified. As for you, you were looking down, face flushed with humiliation and something else - something only Marshall knew about. You were sitting in your chair, staring at him, feeling soaking wet. He was good at it. So good. The way he belittled you, demeaned you… It did things to you. It was even better than what you had anticipated.  As the dinner went on, he made a few more biting remarks, cutting into your cooking, your career aspirations, and even your body in ways that made his skin crawl. You played your part perfectly, responding with a mix of hurt and feigned disappointment, but every so often, you’d give him that look—the one that reassured him you were enjoying every second of it. Finally, as the evening came to an end and the guests filed out, offering awkward goodbyes and sideways glances, the house fell silent. The moment the door clicked shut, Marshall turned to you, his face pale with regret. « Babe, I- », he began but you cut him out by kissing him lovingly. « You were perfect », you said earnestly. « It was amazing ! ». He cupped your face and stared at you for a couple of seconds, his face full of disbelief. Eventually, he pulled you in for a warm hug. « I hated it », he said. « I don’t know how you- I don’t know », he sighed. You smiled and placed a kiss on his pec. « It was exactly what I wanted », you said. « Thank you ». 

He looked at you again, an undecipherable expression on his face. He didn’t get it. Some kinks, he could get the appeal, even though he wasn’t particularly interested. But this, this was beyond him. « You’re insane, do you know that ? », he asked with furrowed eyebrows. You let out a giggle before replying with a grin « I know ». He sighed and gently cupped your face. « I love you, Y/N », he said in a low voice. « But I don’t know if I can do that again. Being mean to you? It’s like... it’s the opposite of everything I feel about you ». You nodded with understanding before placing a soft kiss on his lips. « I know. That’s why it means so much that you did it for me tonight ». He hummed and kissed you again, not letting go. As if he wanted to make sure that you were ok, that the love you shared remained intact and wasn’t tainted by the events of the night. In truth, you felt the opposite. This brought you closer. The frown on his face started to worry you, though. You’d had a great time and you were more than grateful that he indulged you, but you didn’t want it to be an awful experience for him. « Are you upset ? », you asked carefully. « No, I- I just don’t get it, you know ? I don’t get how you can be into… that ». You smiled and tilted your head, amusement playing on your lips. « Into what ? ». He sighed and gestured vaguely. « This. This whole humiliation thing. I just spent the entire dinner ripping you apart in front of everyone, saying things I don’t even believe, and you were just sitting there—loving it. ». Your smile grew wider, a twinkle of excitement visible in your eyes. « Oh, I was more than loving it », you said. Marshall shook his head, torn between disbelief and something deeper—something that, despite everything, made him want to understand you. « What’s wrong with you? » he asked, half-joking, half-serious. « You’ve got this... kink for being humiliated. You like being talked down to, like I’m supposed to just tear into you and you’re gonna walk away with a smile on your face? That’s messed up. ». Your eyes flickered with that unmistakable glint—the one you got when he pushed your buttons just right. You bit your lip, enjoying the way his frustration was manifesting, the way his words stung but also ignited something within you. « Maybe it’s what I need. Maybe I like being messed up. Maybe I like it when you’re mean to me. Maybe it turns me on to have you rip into me and make me feel small. ». The excitement was palpable in your voice. It was sultry, full of lust. Marshall stared at you, his jaw tightening as he tried to reconcile the conflict brewing inside him. « ou really want me to make you feel worthless? You really want me to tear you apart like that? » he asked. 

« Yes », you whispered, your voice low. « I want you to tear me apart. I want you to call me pathetic, to tell me I’m not good enough. I want you to say all those things because it’s you saying them, and I know you don’t mean it. ». He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of what you were saying. « So, what—you want me to sit here and tell you how messed up you are? You want me to go off on how crazy it is that my girlfriend has a kink for being humiliated? ». The edge in his voice had returned, and you could feel the energy between you shift. You nodded, your heart racing as his words cut deeper, but it wasn’t the hurt you craved—it was the rawness, the vulnerability that came with it. « Yeah » you breathed as you felt your pulse quickening. « I want you to tell me just how weird I am. How messed up it is that I get off on you being cruel to me. Tell me everything you think but are too afraid to say ». Your boyfriend’s jaw clenched as he stared at you, the conflict swirling inside him like a storm. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing as he leaned down, his voice dropping to a low, almost dangerous tone. « You want me to say it? Fine. ». His words were sharp now, cutting like the verses he spit on stage, but this time, there was no crowd, no mic—just the two of you, locked in a twisted, shared understanding. « You’re twisted » he hissed as his eyes locked on to you. « You get off on this? On being told you’re not good enough? On me making you feel small in front of everyone? That’s messed up. Who even thinks like that? ». Your breath caught in your throat as he continued, his words hitting you like a drug. « You love it, don’t you? » he continued, his voice gaining momentum. « ou love it when I point out all your flaws, like how you can never seem to finish anything you start, or how you act all confident, but deep down, you’re just looking for someone to knock you down a peg. ». 

You shivered under his words, your pulse racing as his insults landed perfectly, pushing all the right buttons. You could barely hold back the way her body responded, your lips parting in anticipation for more, your nipples hardening, goosebumps appearing on your skin. And the wetness in your panties, it was criminal. « And the cooking? » he continued, his voice still laced with venom, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of something softer, something only you would catch. « You think making a dinner for a few friends means anything when half the time, you barely know what you’re doing in the kitchen? That’s what you’re proud of? Please. ». Your skin flushed, and you felt a warmth spread through your body as he kept going. You knew this wasn’t easy for him—that it was taking everything in him to keep up the facade. But that’s what made it so perfect. « You’re insane, » he muttered, his voice growing quieter, though no less intense. « You’re absolutely insane for liking this. You know that, right? It’s messed up that you want this from me. » And then, as if to punctuate the moment, he stepped even closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear as he whispered, « But you love it, don’t you? ».  A shudder ran through you as his words hung in the air, your chest heaving with the intensity of what had just transpired. You looked up at him, eyes shining with everything you felt but couldn’t put into words. « I love it, » you whispered back, your voice trembling but sure. « I love it because it’s you. ». 

Marshall's thumb lingered on your cheek as his breathing slowed, the intensity between you still thick in the air. He stared into your eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability, the excitement, the love you had for him—despite everything he had just said. There was no question now; you were thriving in the energy you had created. But now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to close the gap between you. Your lips parted slightly as you leaned closer, your eyes flicking to his mouth. The anticipation hung between you like a live wire, and Marshall couldn't hold back anymore. He lowered his face to your, his lips capturing yours in a sudden, desperate kiss. It started slow, tentative, as if he was afraid you might still be hurt by what he'd said earlier, but you responded immediately. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched his own. He could feel your body pressing into him, the heat of the shared tension spilling over into something else entirely—something you both needed. Marshall's hands slid down your back, pulling you even tighter against him as the kisses grew more heated, more frantic. He felt the familiar rush, the way your lips moved against his, soft but demanding. Every ounce of guilt he had felt moments earlier dissolved as you kissed him back, as if you were trying to tell him with every touch that this was exactly what you wanted, that he was exactly what you needed. You couldn’t help but moan softly into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair, and it drove him wild. He kissed you harder, his lips moving with more urgency now, tasting the sweetness of your desire, the intensity of everything that had built up tonight. Your body responded to every movement, pressing against him, and he could feel your heart racing in time with his own. Marshall pulled away for just a second, breathless, his forehead resting against your. « You’re crazy, you know that? » he muttered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.,You grinned, breath ragged as you pulled him back into another kiss. « I know, » you whispered against his mouth before your lips met again, the heat undeniable. He pushed you against the nearest wall as you kept on making out, one of his hands wasting no time going under your dress to go and check If what he suspected was true. As soon as his had cupped your pussy over the lacy fabric of your underwear, he knew he was right. You weren’t wet. You were absolutely soaked, almost dripping. He looked at you, his stare a mix of shock and lust. « Fucking twisted », he muttered before resuming the kissing. You hummed into the kiss, his hands on you driving you absolutely wild. He pushed your panties aside, inserting a finger, immediately earning a moan. « Look at you. All wet because I’m telling you the truth - how fucking deranged you are. It’s pitiful ». You whimpered and he added as second finger, immediately starting to thrust. As his hand worked his magic between your legs, he kept on whispering in your ear, choosing the right words to drive you crazy. You looked at him with pleading eyes, praying that he’d keep going. You had never been so turned on, ever, ad he could tell. He spent the night using it to his advantage, taking you for round after round. As twisted as the whole thing was, he get off on seeing you get off, and the orgasmic bliss made the whole agony of the dinner absolutely worth it. 

The next day, you woke up to the sound of Marshall walking into the room, placing a tray on the bed. « Good morning princess » he said lovingly. You’d had a good sleep and the memories of the night had you smiling from ear to ear. « Morning my love » you cooed. « I thought you’d enjoy breakfast in bed », he said softly. « There’s pancakes, coffee, juice, and I even had croissants delivered, from that bakery you like ». You gave him a smile full of gratitude and kissed him lovingly as he sat next to you. « You’re the best », you said. « Anything for you, love », he replied earnestly before kissing your temple. « So, this is what? You’re going to give me the royal treatment because you called me out on my cooking? » you giggled. « Exactly, » he said, his face serious, as if he had rehearsed the whole thing. « I need to make sure you know you’re my everything. I don’t care if you loved the whole humiliation thing—I’m still gonna treat you like you deserve. ». The sincerity in his voice was almost too much. You loved him for it, even if it made you laugh. « Marsh, » you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck, « I don’t think you understand. I really enjoyed it. You don’t have to keep doing all of this ». « Yeah, but I want to, » he cut in, leaning down to kiss your forehead. « I don’t care if you liked it. I’m not letting you think that’s who I really am, though. I don’t ever want you to feel less than amazing. ». You let out a soft laugh, your heart swelling with affection for this man. He could be stubborn as hell, but that was one of the reasons you loved him so much. Even when you were perfectly fine with the way things were, he went out of his way to make sure you knew just how much you meant to him. « Fine, » you said, still smiling. “If you insist on treating me like a princess, I guess I’ll just have to enjoy it.” He grinned. « Good. Because I’m not stopping. »

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Not Like You - Lando Norris

<word count - 1603>

You had just come downstairs from your final virtual meeting of the day to find Lando on the couch. All you could see of him was his head poking out of the top of the mountain of pillows and blankets he was buried under. 

"I am finally done for the day," you announced, sitting beside him and letting yourself relax for the first time today. "What do you want for dinner?" you asked, your stomach gurgling at the thought of food. 

"You can have whatever, I'm not hungry," he mumbled, turning his face away from you. That was odd, you thought. Lando may have been a bit fussy when it came to what he ate, but he loved his food and he had never turned down a meal in all the time you had known him. 

"What did you have for lunch?" you asked, resting a supportive hand on his knee as he avoided looking at you. "Can't remember," he replied, and that basically meant 'I didn't have anything'. 

In his mind, Lando was willing you to go and make yourself dinner just so he could have a bit of extra time alone. He had been really stressed for the past couple of days, and he had made a valiant effort to make sure you didn't see it. 

He knew you had your own issues to deal with, and he didn't want you to worry yourself with his problems as well. "What have you been up to today?" you asked, trying to get him to look at you by training your eyes on his face.

"Nothing much, just watching some TV," he shortly answered. Normally, Lando was talkative and would be eager to hear about what you had been up to, so that was another red flag. You didn't want to push because, if he wanted to talk about it, he would have already brought it up.

It didn't stop you from worrying any less. If anything, his lack of talking made you more concerned. You sighed, knowing you just had to ask what was wrong. It was the only way you would get through to him. 

"Hey, you OK?" you asked, scooting closer to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired," he huffed, pulling himself into an even tighter ball.

"You sure? You just seem a bit off, that's all," you told him wrapping an arm around his shoulders and trying to pull him into your embrace. "I'm fine, just stressed," he told you, shrugging your arm away and moving towards the other end of the couch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked, your eyebrows knitted together in concern. You knew when he wanted to be left alone, and now was one of those times, but something in you wouldn't let you. 

You wanted to be able to fix all of his problems, make all of his worries go away, and make the world perfect with sunshine and rainbows for him. All of that would be impossible if he didn't let you in. 

"I'm fine," he dismissed, looking at you for a split second before turning away again. For that short moment, you saw something was unsettled in his eyes. That was the thing with Lando - there was no chance he could hide his emotions. His eyes gave himself away so easily. 

"Are you sure? You-" you started.

"I said I'm fine, Y/N," he snapped, and his side profile looked annoyed as you looked at him. Now was the time you thought it would be best to leave him alone. "OK, sorry," you quietly murmured, getting off the couch and going back upstairs. 

You would leave him to cool off for a bit, and give yourself some time to calm down. Lando had never snapped at you before, so it shocked you.  Now you were certain something was up. 

You sat on the bed and thought about what you could do. You didn't want to leave it until he came to bed, because the both of you would get in your heads over the hours and blow the situation out of proportion. 

Meanwhile, Lando felt awful. You were just trying to help, and he yelled at you and he could tell he scared you. The sound of your voice apologising for something you never needed to apologise for made his heart shatter and felt worse than he had before you had asked if he was alright. 

He wasn't feeling like himself, and that was now painfully obvious. It was as if the happy part of him had been replaced with all of the stressful things that were going on in his life right now. But, he scolded himself for taking it out on you.

You were only trying to help, and he knew that. He wanted to go and talk to you, but he couldn't trust himself to not lash out at you. He had let his emotions get the better of him, and he needed to take some time to cool down. 

After around two hours, you had finished scribing your letter to Lando. If he didn't feel like talking to you, then maybe he could read what you had to say. Padding downstairs, Lando was still sat in the exact same spot on the couch. 

You stood in front of him, then placed the folded piece of paper down on the coffee table. He watched your every move until he couldn't see you anymore as you ascended the stairs once more. 

He cursed himself for not saying anything, for not taking you into his arms and apologising for taking his frustration out on you. But, he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't snap at you again, so maybe it was for the better. 

Leaning forward, he snatched the paper off the coffee table and unfolded it. 'Hey Lando, sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to press. If you don't want to talk about it, I get it. But, if you want to, I'm here for you - no matter what. I love you, Y/N x'.

Even though it wasn't your intention, you had made him feel slightly worse about himself. You were being so nice to him and you only wanted the best for him, but he had pushed you away and rejected you. He was so unbelievably lucky to have you, and he loved you more than anything else in the world. 

His emotions had barraged him all at once, and all he could do was let the tears fall down onto his cheeks. As you walked by to get a glass of water from the kitchen, you heard his muffled sobs through the door.

Despite your promise to yourself to give him time, your heart ached for him. He didn't have to tell you what was wrong, you just wanted to be with him. You couldn't stop your legs as they carried you into the living room and around the back of the couch.

From behind, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and buried your face in his hair, but you didn't say anything. You simply stood there as he leant back into your touch. "I'm sorry," he managed to choke out. "It's OK," you whispered back, trying to supress your own tears. 

"No, it's not. I shouldn't speak to you like that, whether I'm upset or not," he said, his hands latching onto your forearms and gripping for dear life. "Lando, it's OK. You don't have to explain yourself if you don't want to," 

"C'mere," was all he said in response and you walked around the couch and sat down next to you. "I've just been really stressed lately and I've not been feeling like... me, if that makes any sense," he explained, pulling you into him.

Keeping your mouth shut, you nodded to signal for him to continue. "I've just not been happy recently, and I don't know why," he mumbled, looking down at his lap as his fingers aggressively circled your arm. "You don't need to be happy all the time, it's OK not to be," you told him as he looked at you with glassy eyes.

"But I shouldn't have snapped at you like that,"

"Lando, baby, I promise it's alright. It's alright to have feelings that aren't 100% positive all the time, and it's fine to want to be alone sometimes. I get it, it's hard to talk about how we feel, but I'm always here if you need me," you said, caressing his cheek as you spoke. 

"I know you are, I know. But I want to feel like me again," he backtracked as a few more tears fell onto his rosy cheeks. "Give it some time, and I'm always here if you want to talk about anything.  In the meantime, what do you say we order in some spring rolls?" you said, and a small smile danced on his lips. 

Even if it was only a small smile, it was still a smile nonetheless. "I like that idea," he grinned, and he already felt better for talking to you. You could put a smile on his face whenever, but now he needed it the most. 

"I love you," he said affectionately, just as you picked up the phone to dial the Chinese place. 

"I love you too," you responded, leaning into his touch as his hand snuck up the side of your shirt and mindlessly traced shaped on the skin of your waist. 

Lando may not have instantly felt on top of the world again, but he was certainly making good headway on getting there, and he could feel those small fragments of his usual, happy self, falling back into place.

A/N - This is 'Not Like Me', but the other way around. Hope you enjoyed, and if you need to talk, I'm always here <3

|masterlist|

[seat-safety-switch]

If I ever get back to my own timeline, the first thing I'm going to do is bury my Doc Martens so far up the ass of The Professor that he's going to wish he had never heard of dimensional travel. You certainly can't blame me for going along with it. It all sounded so good: with an infinity of other universes, chances are one of them is gonna have a low-miles 1978 Plymouth Volare that I can bring back home.

That universe, if it does exist, isn't this one. I knew as soon as I stepped out of the warp that things were different. The air hung thick with the smell of two-stroke oil. Screaming wasp-like engines ran at incomprehensibly high revs. Japanese kanji were stapled on the side of every building, making it nearly impossible for my illiterate ass to navigate the downtown well enough to secure a taxi cab. I stumbled through the rain-slick streets in search of a store with enough triple-A batteries to get home.

Something that looked like a hardware store approached from the gloom. The horrific shrieking din grew from all sides. Did they know I was coming? Were they hunting me? That's when I saw it. A family hatchback, containing a family. Front-wheel-drive. Nothing special. In the front, though, a shrieking dorito, its induction scoop jutting through an entirely absent hood. In this universe, rotary engines had won the war. Something in the laws of physics didn't go the same way here as it did in our realm. Pistons were virtually extinct, hunted to the ends of the Earth.

I could not bear to see if I could find my beloved Mopars in this world. If any had survived at all, they would be incomprehensible. And how bad would a Chrysler-helmed Wankel engine be? How horrifying would Saab have become, in this triangle-shaped hell? Most of all, I feared falling in love with it, refusing to continue the sliding. The good news is that these things had such low compression after a couple weeks of use, that 48-volt marine batteries were cheap as hell. Even if I did have to pay for them with chunks of my own hair.

[iovetecchou]

situations / tecchou suehiro

Prompts... "I had a dream about you." & "You've done enough teasing, now it's my turn."

Contains..! smut, mutual touching, fingering, dry humping, pussy slapping, slight!manhandling, dirty talk, teasing, jealousy, almost getting caught, public sex, rough sex, use of "good boy", creampie, switch!tecchou, he cries from the pleasure perhaps... also says "i love you" while cumming...

AFAB Reader.

2,784 words.

If Tecchou had to use one word to describe you, it would be... confusing.

You had been colleagues for a long while now, nothing more.

At least that's what Tecchou had assumed, but you played tricks on him; sitting atop his lap when you finished your report before him, always giving him the same reasoning as to why. Which was, "Your lap is much more comfortable than my chair. More padding." Perpetually followed by a cheeky squeeze to his upper thigh, which never failed to pull a gasp from Tecchou's lips.

Not to mention, you always requested to be paired up with him on missions. Giving him lingering kisses on his reddened cheeks when you both came out on the other side of your battles virtually unscathed.

Oh, but the best of them all? The 'thing' that plagued Tecchou's every thought?

Well...

He would stay up countless nights. Thinking of the 'things' you would utter to him with a straight face. You were nothing more than colleagues. And yet, he couldn't help but fist his cock while thinking of you. And the lewd scenarios you'd describe, cursing his body for betraying him this way. Every single night.

Six simple words would start the end of it all for him.

"I had a dream about you!"

Tecchou perked up in this chair at your words. If he had a tail, it would be wagging behind him. Chestnut eyes tracked your every move, intently staring as you made strides toward Jouno's desk. Sitting atop the sadistic man's lap without a second thought.

Tecchou tilted his head in confusion, eyebrows furrowing in the process. Why were you sitting on Jouno's lap right now and not his? Especially after you just uttered-

"Jouno! Did you hear me...? I said I had a dream about you!"

Jouno let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head slightly. Bringing his free arm up to wrap around the small of your back before he muttered, "Oh, I heard you, princess. Loud and clear."

You let out a small giggle before wrapping your arms around Jouno's neck. "Aren't you going to ask what happened in the dream?" You swung your legs playfully from where they dangled off the side of Jouno's lean thighs, causing the blind king to tighten his grip on you ever so slightly.

Tecchou's jaw clenched at the scene unfolding before him, practically oozing jealousy. Jouno could sense the envy radiating off his idiotic colleague. The Hunting Dogs knew about Tecchou's little crush on you, yet all of the teasing they put him through for it went right over his head. Tecchou was seemingly unphased by the teasing until now. So there was no way in hell Jouno was about to pass up this opportunity to get on his least favorite colleagues' nerves.

"Alright, enlighten me. Did we perhaps fuck?" Jouno asked candidly. The brazen smirk etched into the sadistic man's features only proved to piss Tecchou off even further.

"Mhm! We did, and it was while we were on a mission too! Can you believe that? The perp had an aphrodisiac ability, and I ended up getting hit with it. And, well, you can use your imagination for the rest." x

Tecchou watched with raged filled orbs as Jouno's hand snaked further down your frame, cupping the side of your upper thigh tightly and pulling you impossibly closer to him. "Oh? How vulgar, princess. What did I do to help you out exactly? Shall I make your dream a reality?"

Tecchou was standing in front of you both in an instant. And before you could respond, you were being tugged away. Tecchou wrapped his arms around your frame, Hoisting you over his shoulder, paying no mind to Jouno as he made long strides toward the elevator down the hall.

"Hiro?! Put me down- I have rights, you know!" You shouted playfully, kicking your legs in an attempt to free yourself. Your fists pounded against his broad back, but he could care less. All Tecchou could think about was how he wanted you to be all his.

Tecchou ran his free hand along all the elevator buttons for each floor, causing them all to light up. "There, that should give us time," Tecchou mumbled before carefully placing you on your feet. You had a moment to take in your surroundings before he was on you, caging you between his sturdy chest and the elevator wall behind you.

"Hiro, what are you--"

"You've done enough teasing, now it's my turn."

Tecchou deadpanned. Both of his hands came up to entangle around your waist in an instant as his lips captured yours roughly. You whined into the kiss as his hands kneaded your sides, bringing your digits up to tug on the ends of his dark hair.

He let out a low groan against you, taking advantage to slip your tongue past his parted lips. But Tecchou wasn't about to let you take control with ease, not after your little display with Jouno only moments prior. Before you knew it, Tecchou pulled away from your lips. His strong hands kept your hips still against the back of the elevator as he glared down at you.

His gaze was intense, one you only ever saw when something seriously got on his nerves. "Don't get bold with me, angel," Tecchou whispered, nimble digits coming up to caress your frame. Eliciting a whine from you, your eyes still locked on his.

He traced patterns into your upper thigh with his lithe finger, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. Heat swirled within your core at the sudden change in demeanor from the usually stoic man. Who knew all you needed to light a fire under him was to get him a little jealous?

"Do you think you deserve this?" Tecchou cupped your panty-clad pussy from under your skirt. His eyebrows twitched in amusement at the feeling of your slick seeping through your panties. "Who got you this excited, angel? Me or Jouno?"

Tecchou's free hand grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger. He invaded your personal space, not that you minded, but still. It felt as though you still hadn't awoken from one of your wet dreams.

You gasped as his hand pulled away briefly from your needy cunt, only to make quick contact with a curt slap. "Well, angel? We don't have all day." His continual naughty slaps to your sensitive pussy, and filthy words pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Y-You! I made up that dream with Jouno to make you j-jealous…" You confessed, biting your lip and averting your gaze. Shifting on your feet in an attempt to distract yourself from the embarrassment. Your eyes darted back to Tecchou's stern face the second you heard a low chuckle rattle through his chest.

"If this was your end goal, all you had to do was ask. I want you too, angel." Tecchou confessed, a tight-lipped smile coating his face as his fingers finally dipped under your panties. You both gasped in unison as his lithe digits ran along the expanse of your slicked-up pussy. His tough-guy facade faded the second he got to touch you so intimately like this.

"Really? All this… for me? You mean it?" Tecchou tilted his head slightly. His brows were knitted, bottom lip jutting out into a pout as the pads of his fingers made contact with your puffy clit. Tecchou desperately needed your reassurance after your little display with Jouno. It was clear as day. And how could you deny him when he looked at you so pathetically while he tried his hardest to please you?

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a desperate kiss as Tecchou began rubbing quick, tight circles into your sensitive bud. You whimpered into the kiss as your hands grasped the hair that resided on the nape of his neck, causing Tecchou to rut his hips into you unintentionally.

His erection pressed against your upper thigh. And on instinct, you pushed your leg in between his. Allowing him to rut against your thigh with ease as Tecchou continued to play with your pussy.

He whined into your mouth at the newly added friction as his fingers came down to prod at your entrance. You pulled away from his lips, taking a sharp breath before you quipped, "Does this answer your question?"

Tecchou's eyes were half-lidded, drool seeping past his parted lips as he hurridly humped against your thigh. You could see the tears beginning to brim over his lashline as he nodded his head fervently, followed by a string of, "Yes- yes, yes!"

So much for him "being in control", huh?

Two of his fingers slipped in with ease from how wet you had become. A whine escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion, eyes glued to Tecchou's face as he fell apart before you. "You're being such a good boy for me, Hiro. My good boy."

A cry spilled past his ruddy lips at your words as he picked up his pace inside you. His fingers pumped in and out of you with ease. Curling on the drag down perfectly, hitting your sweet spot with each deep plunge of his thick digits inside your needy pussy.

"S-Say it again… please…" Tecchou begged candidly, rutting against your thigh desperately. You could feel his clothed cock throbbing against you with each thrust of his hips. His thumb moved up to rub your clit as he continued to finger fuck you. You were sure Tecchou would cum in his uniform if you uttered those words again.

Your release was approaching and fast. Just as you were about to say those pretty little words; something else grabbed your attention. There was only one button still glowing brightly from when Tecchou pressed them earlier, causing fear to settle within your chest as you began to watch it fade.

"Hiro, wait- stop!" In an instant, that perfect pleasure he was granting you was gone. He pulled away from your thigh as worry coated his features. His chestnut eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign of discomfort. "What's wrong- did I hurt you? I'm so sorry, angel-"

The doors began to open, causing panic to creep up on you. Reaching out for Tecchou's hips, you quickly hauled him toward the back of the elevator. Standing in front of him in an attempt to hide his erection as you smoothed your skirt back into place right as the elevator came to a complete standstill.

Tachihara gave you a small smile and a nod as he stepped inside, his eyes traveled to a disheveled Tecchou who stood behind you. "Uh, everything alright with him?" Tachihara questioned, pressing the button for his floor before his eyes met yours.

"Y-Yeah! We just got back from a bad mission. I'm going to take him home to rest. Mind pressing floor one for me?" You lied through your teeth, hoping it was at least good enough to trick your good pal Tachihara.

He narrowed his eyes at you, nodding and reaching out to press your requested floor. A few awkward moments passed before the elevator came to a complete stop and your colleagues' floor. "Alright… be sure to take good care of him, y/n. See you both tomorrow, yeah?"

You gave him a weak smile before waving him off, uttering a small "See ya then!" Before the doors shut again. Granting Tecchou and yourself some much-needed privacy. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding before reaching out to highlight all the elevator buttons one more, resetting your timer.

"That could have been so fucking bad- Hiro! C'mon, we don't have much time…" You hurriedly expressed. Making quick work of undoing Tecchou's belt, followed by the button and zipper of his pants. Tugging his uniform slacks and boxers down in one swift motion.

"W-What are you…?" Tecchou trailed off, voice getting caught in his throat as he watched you slip your panties down your legs. You balled them up before tucking them into the breast pocket of his uniform. Your hands made their way to the hem of your skirt, wasting no time lifting the flimsy fabric to reveal your bare cunt.

"Hiro… I want you to fuck me, but we have to make this quick! Please? I promise I'll make this up to you another time. I just- I need you right now. C'mon Hiro, you're my good boy, right?"

The last of Tecchou's resolve snapped with that. He was standing before you in an instant, large hands coming up to your hips. He spun you around with ease, pressing your chest up against the back of the elevator wall firmly as his hands moved down further to soothe over your ass.

He flipped the back of your skirt up, admiring the sight of your slicked-up pussy from this angle. "F-Fuck angel… I don't know if I'll be able to l-last long if we…" You pushed your ass into his twitching cock, cutting him off before you muttered, "That's what I'm betting on."

Tecchou grasped his length, lining himself up to your entrance. His thick cock pushed into you. Stretching you out perfectly, causing you both to cry out in unison as he bottomed out. "T-Too tight, hah…" You wiggled your hips into him, encouraging Tecchou to fuck into you as he pleased.

"C'mon my good boy, make me cum. I know you can do it, baby." His mind was fuzzy. All Tecchou could think of was how good you felt wrapped around him and how badly he wanted to make you feel good. He gave you an experimental thrust eliciting a moan from you. He attempted another one. Only this time with more force, you clenched around him fiercely at this.

"Ah- Hiro! So good, baby…" You babbled, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts as Tecchou finally found a steady rhythm. One of his hands found purchase on your hip, fucking you on his cock as he pleased. His other hand snaked around your frame to play with your puffy bud.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as the coil within you began unraveling. He was so deep inside you, and his nimble digits worked wonders against your clit. There's no way you would last like this. "Hiro, m' close! Please d-don't stop!" You cried out, trying your hardest to stay up on your shaky legs.

Tecchou picked up on your struggle. Opting to wrap his hand, which was on your hip, around your midsection. Pulling you close to his chest and burying his cock even deeper inside your twitching hole as he held you up against him.

Tecchou ground himself deep inside you. As he added more pressure to your twitching clit, the thread within you snapped. "Cumming- m' cumming!" You cried out. Your walls clamped down on his cock with so much force. Tecchou's hips stilled inside you as his orgasm tore through his entire body.

"Fuck- angel! S-So good, so perfect… I-I love you!" He doubled over, whining into your ear as the tears ran freely down his cheeks at this point. His breath fanned over the shell of your ear as his cum spilled deep inside you. You could feel his balls twitching from where they kissed the underside of your spent pussy as he emptied his load inside you.

As both of you came down from your highs, you fully processed what Tecchou uttered to you only moments ago. You pulled off his cum coated-cock, tugging his hand away from your waist and turning in place. Getting a clear view of his fucked out expression.

"What did you just say to me…?" You looked up at him in disbelief. Watching the way his face morphed into a deep shade of crimson. "I-I uh…" Tecchou trailed off, too embarrassed to utter those three words back to you once more.

You peeked over to the elevator console, noticing that the floor numbers were not fading in color. Now that you thought about it, the elevator hasn't moved up or down in the last ten minutes… shit.

You brought your finger up to Tecchou's lips, "We'll pick up on this conversation later. I think we have something more substantial to deal with." Tecchou looked defeated. What could've been more important than him confessing his love to you?

You answered his intrusive thoughts before he could express them aloud, "Hiro! Not like that, no- but, we're fucking trapped in this elevator! Fuck, and I have no service, great…"

"We can always go for round two while we wait-"

"Not a chance…"

[denaliwrites]

Dreams See Us Through

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Part 1: Don't Blink Part 2: Don't Turn Your Back Part 3: Don't Look Away

Catch and Release Prompt: "Solo"

Summary: Without the Doctor by your side, it's up to you to save yourself.

Soundtrack: If We Hold On Together by Diana Ross

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp, @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce -- If I could tag literally everyone who asked for a part 4, I would.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Peril.

"Doctor," the tinny voice of Jack Harkness piped up from the TARDIS intercom, sounding winded, "I found something I think you're gonna want to see."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

When you opened your eyes, the Doctor was gone. In his place, a seemingly infinite field of flowers sprawled before you, with the sun shining brightly overhead. At first, you thought maybe you'd died and gone to Heaven, but as you looked around you saw that, to your right, nestled among some rolling hills, sat a pretty average-looking castle. You would've thought that, were this Heaven, the castle would've been grand and made of gold or something.

And, as you made your way through the meadow, you realized you recognized the flowers you brushed past.

So the angel hadn't killed you. And not only had it instead displaced you in time, it had also displaced you in space.

You were back on Earth.

Your next step was to find out when and where you were. Based on the castle overhead, your guess for location was a very broad "somewhere in Europe." That didn't help you much -- you needed more exact details.

You needed coordinates and a date.

You paused to look around, realizing that you never bothered to look behind you. Unfortunately, it didn't help much -- the castle was still your best bet for civilization. And from this distance, you couldn't tell what state it was in. If it was brand new or hundreds of years old.

Only time -- and a very long trek -- would tell.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

"Doctor," Jack greeted as the Time Lord swept into the room. His arms were held open as if for a hug.

The Doctor ignored the gesture and opted to instead stare at Jack from a distance, arms crossed over his chest. "Why am I here, Jack?" he asked, already tired of the man's antics.

"To look at this," Jack answered with an easy grin as he whipped out something from his coat pocket.

The Doctor stared at it in confusion.

"You called me all the way here for an Agatha Christie novel?"

"Really, Doctor. You think I'd resort to making up excuses to get you to come see me? Look at the cover," Jack told him, throwing the book over.

The Doctor caught it easily and did as Jack had told him. Up close, he could see the details and read the finer print. And a realization struck him.

"What's a hundred-year-old Vipiteran edition of the Mysterious Affair at Styles doing in a dingy apartment in 2008 London?" Jack asked aloud the question that had been forming in the Doctor's mind.

He didn't have an answer, so he shrugged and began flipping through the pages.

He was near the end when he stopped short, staring at something wedged between the pages. The Doctor pulled it out, staring dumbfoundedly at the old photograph he held between his fingers.

"Doctor, look at the back."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The biggest problem was avoiding the creation of a paradox -- difficult, but not impossible.

Luckily, you'd found a town on the other side of the castle, and with it your date and location. May 16, 1922 in Tureborg, Sweden. That definitely made things easier, though there was still the challenge of getting the Doctor's attention without creating a paradox. Or... at least, not a world-ending one. Hopefully.

You unfortunately had very little on you -- really, only the book you'd bought on Vipitera that you'd kept on you in case you found time to read (so much for that), and a credits chip that was virtually useless now.

You also couldn't speak Swedish. That was a bit of a problem.

You were there only a few days when your problems seemed to resolve themselves. An English artist had stumbled upon the town on his way through the country and had stopped to take in the sights and paint a pretty picture.

More importantly, though, he had a camera with him, and that was enough to spark an idea in your mind.

Befriending the artist was easy -- he was desperate for the companionship of someone who could understand him and you were desperate to get back to the Doctor.

You used each other, as God intended.

Fast friends that you were, it wasn't long before the artist offered to take your picture, and it was an offer you couldn't refuse. In fact, it was an offer you'd been banking on.

And that was how you got a Vipiteran copy of the Mysterious Affair at Styles, with a picture of you tucked into the back and a date a few days into the future and current coordinates scrawled on the back, to London.

Now all you could do was wait, and hope.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The Doctor decided, as he set the TARDIS on course for the day and location you'd written on the back of that photograph, that the moment he saw you, he was going to tell you he loved you.

He was lucky, ultimately, that you'd found a way to leave breadcrumbs that were too small to upset the delicate balance of reality -- yet noticeable enough for him to pick up the trail.

He was lucky that you were smart, and bold, and courageous, and determined as hell. He was lucky that you wouldn't take death lying down. That you'd find some way to make it back to him.

He was lucky, he realized as he threw the switch that'd send him back to you, that you loved him enough to fight to get back to him.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Right on time, the sound of the TARDIS materializing filled the air. You moved to stand, waiting with bated breath and vibrating nerves as the blue box faded into view, and only a moment later the Doctor came bounding out, eyes scanning the scene for you.

He barely had a second to process the you-shaped missile heading his way before you were on him, arms thrown around his neck and holding on so tightly that he had to remind you that he needed to breathe.

"Shut up," you murmured into his neck, even as your arms loosened, "and fucking hug me back."

He obeyed without hesitation, his lips pressing to the top of your head as he pulled you tighter against him.

"I thought I lost you," he said into your hair. "I love you -- I promise I will never let anything happen to you again."

You believed him.

This experience had been enough to scare you both into being more careful. And even so, it wasn't over.

You pulled away from the Doctor, staring up at him with a determined gaze.

"Take me home. There's a Weeping Angel I need to take care of."

[traveler-at-heart]

Hearing nats genuine belly laugh for the first time

Thanks for the prompt!

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Tickles

It’s impossible to read her.

Natasha controls her expressions and reactions to virtually everything.

If she’s happy, one corner of her mouth will rise. Angry, and her glare could kill you, but you’ll never hear her screaming or cursing.

Never mind laughing. She loves being sarcastic and her wit rivals that of Tony. But you’ve never heard her laugh with abandonment.

And you’re so curious about that elusive sound. If her few chuckles or hums have your head spining, what would a real, authentic and care free laugh do to you?

Sweep you off your feet.

Which is exactly what Natasha does, making you land on your back.

“You’re distracted” she comments, no expression as she waits for you to stand up.

“I’m not” you lie.

You’re always distracted when she wears those tight leggings and tank top to train.

How you wish you could be better at hiding your own feelings.

“You are” she confirms when she throws a kick to your leg and then flips you over, straddling your hips.

She’s right on top of you, a proud and cocky smirk that only increases her level of hotness.

“Whatever” you mumble, trying to get her off of you. She makes you work for it and you decide to poke her side to annoy her.

Then, the strangest thing happens.

Natasha giggles.

Your eyes widen and her hand covers her mouth. For the first time since you’ve known her, she looks mortified.

“Don’t you ever do that again”

“Do what?” you challenge, and poke one of her sides and then the other one. She giggles again and then traps your wrists in her hands.

“Stoopp” she complains but you shake your head no.

Pretty soon you’re rolling around, trying to get the upper hand and free yourself from her hold.

Once you accomplish that, you tickle her back and she lets out a squeal, laughing like crazy.

Between her laughs and your hands going up and down, you end up tickling the inside of her elbow and on pure instinct she throws a punch.

“Shitshitshit” she says when you get knocked out, your eye begining to swell.

“Tasha?” you come to your senses a minute later.

“I’m here” she says, her hand on your cheek. “I’m so sorry”

“You have a nice laugh” is all you can think to say, still pretty out of it.

She blushes-another first since you’ve known her.

“Let’s ice that punch”

“Mmkay”

—

Fifteen minutes later and you’re back to being fully conscious of what happened.

You’re leaning on a kitchen stool, a bag of frozen peas covering the left side of your face.

“What happened to you?” Sam asks when he sees the both of you sitting in silence.

“I tickled Natasha and she knocked me out”

“By accident” Nat clarifies.

“Allegedly” you open your one good eye and smile at her.

“Who tickles the Black Widow?” Sam defends her and you nod.

“Someone really stupid. Clearly”.

They talk about missions and training new recruits. By the time Sam goes back to his quarters you feel like your eye is less swollen, so you remove the frozen peas.

Natasha leans forward and touches the redened area.

“I really am sorry”

“It was worth it to hear you laugh” you grab her wrist, making soothing circles with your thumb. “Do you think Fury will want to take me shopping for my very own eye patch?” you feign excitement and she snorts.

“You won’t need one, but I do hope you’ve learned your lesson”

“No tickling a trained spy. Ever”

Natasha smiles shyly, and you get bold enough to ask something else.

“Wanna grab dinner with me tonight? As reparation for my partial blindness”

“I’d like that” she smiles.

“I’ll see you later then” you stand up, already planning your date. “With my one good eye”

“Shut up” she laughs again.

What a beautiful sound

[sonicjustbecause]

The Sonic 3 Trailer lacks of both spoiler and context, and that is about how a trailer should be. We already know what it is about. We only needed to see few scenes to make sure it might look good (or bad, it depends on what we except).

Now, I've seen a couple of crazy theories I've read and I believe both of them won't happen. I'll explain

Tom getting killed

Won't happens anything different to Tom that didn't happen before. he will be at worst knock out/neutralized and go off screen. Like in Sonic 1 (punched by Eggman) and Sonic 2 (encircled by flames)

Such happening would be the complete Shadow's assasination as character. We as fan won't forgive him and also this would push Shadow in the villains realm.

The past characterization.

Original Shadow (Adventure/Heroes/06) was very tame. There is a video on YT that analyze how Shadow behaves toward the world and underline the lack of destruction and violence in SA2, as opposite as we see in Sonic X and ShtH05.

in Sonic-X they changed slightly Shadow's personality, removing his intellectual and contemplative nature and replacing it with a more brash and violent personality. But even there, they prevented Shadow from killing Cosmo, making him acting like a cat who plays with his prey instead of being efficient (slow pace, talking, missing aim despite the short distance and when the thing failed just giving up on that). Shadow could have act smartly simply killing Cosmo in her sleep. As I say, I think they wanted to save his reputation.

In Sonic Force he indeed killed Infinite's squad. His first kill, most likely. Small fries, while leaving the boss alive, evil and stupid considering the aftermath. They saved Shadow's reputation by making Infinite lame and obnoxious and by not showing his gang at all (so we don't get attachted and we still cheer for Shadow). Sort of telling without actually showing anything.

Similar cases and why those characters have been tamed out.

Lupin III had a super rough star. His author got inspired by underground Western comics of the '60s and the original Lupin III was not a thief and a cheerful anti-hero. Lupin was originally a real godfather, a mafia boss, and despite he was mostly accompanied by Jigen and Goemon (who weren't really characterized back then) he had all underdogs, picciottos and so on under his rule. He did steal, but also he killed innocents, he raped women (includin Fujiko) and did several other hideous things.

Evil protagonists don't last long. They either get overhauled or they die like Light Yagami.

For this Lupin had to be tamed. Lupin killed less and less and more and more only with a reason and was more and more gentle with the innocents, including his main foe. And lastly he just virtually stopped to kill.

He's not the only one, many protagonists were born as unremedable villain and then they have been turned into antiheroes... or even heroes. Villanous protagonists never last long.

Shadow is beloved mostly because of his original personality. I noticed in most fan work, he is characterized the way he was in Sonic Adventure 2/Heroes/06 or Prime. Sometimes like in Sonic X and Shadow 05. Rarely like modern Shadow.

Back to Shadow

"What did you do?"

"What I had to!"

Those lines may be related to anything and everything. They might be related to Shadow's attempt to destroy the world like in SA2.

"I had to keep my promise!"

"What I had to do" suggest me something Shadow did not because he wanted to but for an external obiective. It might be world safety, keeping a promise, preventing the Sun going red giant, anything. Maybe even destroying Metal Sonic (if he appears like some rumor suggest) after Sonic convinced him to join the good side. Shadow has a long story dealing with living weapons.

Shadow stealing Stone's bike

Simply impossible. I already said Shadow's size is comparable to the size of a five years old child, about 1m tall. Stone is a 1,78m tall adult.

How Shadow would look on Stone's bike. It would be good material for the memes. And even if he would be able to ride an adult designed bike, he would be unable to do the Akira thing.

[ghost-bxrd]

Keep going I want everything *holds up a note pad* give me angst

*slides glasses up higher*

Okay, you asked for it! Get ready for some really cracky ship content on the side of more Court Family au!

Bruce grows up learning high society and Court etiquette mostly from Alfred and some trustworthy Court members and quickly decides that some things need to change. (He may be morally flexible here but he still wants to change things for the better). He still puts up the Brucie mask in front of High Society, but now he does it with the goal to gather blackmail material from as many people as possible and indebt them to him for potential use down the line.

Bruce becomes Voice of the Court when he turns eighteen and immediately starts uprooting several of the more corrupt members of the Court, instating new people into the ranks that will benefit the city as a whole. He makes some enemies this way, naturally. And soon after the Cout’s Talon is tasked with Bruce’s safety at all times.

Bruce and Cobb do NOT get along. At all. Mostly because Bruce is determined to make Talon’s life even harder by trying to slip away from his sight every other second. It’s infuriating. Cobb considers literally sitting on the guy after only one week. (“Try bailing on me now, o’ honorable Voice”)

Bruce spends several months strategically implementing new laws and projects that will benefit the Court AND Gotham in the long run, making it a point to go to the most important meetings in person, even if they happen to be between criminals. (Cobb was so, SO tempted to let Black Mask shoot the idiot that day.)

Within two years human trafficking is close to nonexistent in Gotham City, lethal crime is down a good ten percent (which isn’t much in the grand scheme of things but for Gotham it’s almost biblical) and whispers of “Batman” are omnipresent. (Cobb considers asking if slapping his Voice would be considered treason but… it probably would. Even though Bruce really deserves it with such a stupid cover name. Owls HUNT bats… couldn’t he have chosen Owlman?)

(“What’s your name, anyway?” Bruce asks one day, flipping his tie into a neat Windsor knot that’s just passable enough to not be considered sloppy. “I am the Talon of the Court, my Voice.” Bruce hums, one elegant eyebrow raising in the stark reflection of the mirror, “No, your real name.” “It’s whatever you wish it to be, my Voice.” “You know what I mean, Talon. If you do not wish to answer, then I will not make you. But do not play me for a fool.” “… Cobb. William Cobb.” Bruce blinks, the left corner of his mouth tugging upwards, “Will… I see.”)

The first time a traitor nearly succeeds in killing Bruce is when he once again slips away from the Talon’s sight, and while Bruce is still well trained he’s no match against five people with guns, sedatives, and a mission. Cobb finds them right as they’re about to shoot Bruce in the head and goes absolutely feral. (He hates Bruce, he hates Bruce, he hates Bruce, he hates-)

Bruce wakes up back at the manor with a pissed off Talon standing in the corner of the room, keeping watch and refusing to talk to him anymore beyond what he’s ordered to. Sneaking away from the Talon after this becomes virtually impossible for Bruce.

Cobb keeps giving Bruce the cold shoulder for months to the point where Bruce becomes genuinely concerned, but the Court scientists assure him that their Talon is running at a 100% capacity. (That’s not what I’m asking, Bruce wants to scream. I want to know if he’s okay.)

(Cobb wasn’t worried, he wasn’t. He watched countless humans die in so much worse ways already. Inflicted worse himself. It’s just because he almost failed his mission and allowed the Voice to be killed that he’s so unnerved now. That must be it. That’s all it is. That’s all.)

Dick’s parents fall and Bruce is up and out of his seat the next second, pushing through the masses until he can clutch at the child and cover his eyes, shielding him from the view of his parents’ dead bodies. Social Services never get to put their hands on Dick Grayson.

The Court is ecstatic. Cobb is ecstatic. From tragedy, opportunity blooms like a rose with poisonous thorns, and the Talon stands ready to take on his apprentice as the Court broaches the subject with Bruce.

But Bruce (idiotic, stupid, bleeding-heart Bruce) refuses point blank. (“He’s a child,” Bruce says. Like that means anything. They were all children, once. He’ll grow out of it quickly enough. And the boy will make an excellent Talon, perhaps even surpass Cobb himself, with time and training. Maybe more capable at keeping the Voice safe than him, too. But then Bruce says, “He’s my child. My ward. And any of you who think to go against me will answer to the Talon and myself.” And, oh, damn you, Bruce. Damn you. But what else is Cobb to do but lift his head and stare down the Voice’s subject in silent challenge, daring them to object? Bruce is his Voice. Talon will never not side with the Court’s voice. (He pointedly does not think of the time he slit another Voice’s throat. He does not.))

Dick is anger and fury and sunshine and it drives Cobb crazy. The raw potential that is lost with Bruce’s refusal to allow him to train the boy… he cannot stand it. There will be another Talon before long (Cobb is not bitter about it, he is not) and with Dick the protection of the Voice would have at least stayed within the line of Cobb’s blood, but now… now Cobb can’t be sure the new Talon will take their task as seriously as the boy would have.

Dick is the one to approach Cobb for training before he ever goes to Bruce

Bruce nearly has a heart attack the first time he finds Dick training with the Talon, ripping the boy away and screaming at Cobb for nearly an hour about “orders” and “NOT a Talon” and many other things Dick doesn’t really get

Bruce asks Talon to bring him Zucco’s head and Cobb will forever deny the vindictive pleasure he felt when watching the smarmy man squirm and beg for his life (he didn’t get fond of Dick. Cobb doesn’t do fond. He hates him almost as much as he hates Bruce, thank you and good day.)

… okay I just realized none of this really qualifies as angst but— somehow this post got away from me. I’m sorry 😭😭😭 feel free to ask for more specific angst content tho? 🙏

[i-wanna-die-like-now]

Dp x bnha headcanons part 2! Or just weirdly specific things I see happening, idk just my thoughts on stuff.

Tsuyu gets super sleepy around Danny because of his ice powers and almost always struggles with being directly next to him, unlike Todoroki he doesn't have a warm side she can stick to.

Iida almost breaks down when Danny refused to listen to his rules by clicking on his aids (suppression for his sensitive hearing) Bakugou on the other hand finds it hilarious and takes to turning his own aids off when he no longer wants to listen.

Sato invites Danny to his weekly “sugar time” to teach him how to bake as a favour, Danny is surprisingly good at it and eventually him and Sato work together to include ectoplasm into their baking (without it coming to life) so Danny could top up his energy.

^^Bakugou refuses to let Danny near him when he cooks because of that very reason, he'd seen what his ectoplasm can do to food, he does still cook for him on occasion because he's never seen anyone savour his food the way Danny does! It most definitely goes to his head. Danny savours the food because 1. His parents can't cook to save their life. 2. Bakugous food is so much better than any type of take out and 3. He never knows when his next proper meal will be back home and is taking full advantage.

Danny goes to Hatsume for help with making a Fenton thermos (just in case) and she falls in love with the blueprints because what in the world was that layout, it's a mess that she finds thrilling to decipher it. Actually talking to Danny she realizes that no its not a mess he just has ADHD and can't write it down in a way anyone but him understood. (Danny is a genius and you can't convince me otherwise, he just has untreated ADHD 😭)

When Toga drinks Danny's blood her body has trouble with picking what form she changes into and they merge together, eyes changing and flashing in between green and blue and her hair being a mix of black and white. Her face almost looks exactly like Danny but something is off, his eyes are a little too big, his ears are a mix of pointed and normal and his skin has blotches of tan skin and deathly pale. She is fascinated with his green blood though and really wants to taste it, when she finally does get to it burns her tongue and throat and leaves her craving more. (If she separated the ectoplasm from the blood, which is virtually impossible, she'd be able to use the blood for Fenton and ectoplasm for Phantom. Because its the same DNA her quirk registers it as one person when mixed together and that's what causes them to blend)

Stain on the other hand would hate the taste and then finds out his quirk doesn't actually work on him properly, it makes his body heavy and very hard to move but it doesn't paralyze him completely because of the ectoplasm. He also definitely sees the potential Danny has.

Danny info dumps about space to everyone and everything at any chance he can, someone asks a question that shows they have a mild interest in the subject and he's off like a rocket. Izuku joins in with his own info dumping about heroes and their quirks, it somehow merges together and they start talking about space quirks and space themed heros.

Uraraka brings up sending him to space with her quirk halfway through a disagreement and Danny straight up drops it and asks her is she would. "Don't worry I can survive if I'm in my ghost form, it's for science! Hey- No wait don't walk away!" He ends up moping around for a whole week after and when Aizawa asked why he loses 5 years off his life. "Please don't ask your classmates to try and kill you." "But sir I'm already dea-" "get out!"

He duplicates himself so he can hold both of Eris hands to swing her, Eri loves to try and figure out which one is the original and she's surprisingly good at it.

Todoroki uses his fire side to help with Danny's chronic pain, after a while it becomes a habit to hold hands and all their spare time they're glued to eachother, neither of them are complaining.

[yanphobia]

Athazagoraphobia - Chapter 2

Athazagoraphobia: The fear of forgetting, and being forgotten.

Pairing: Yandere Male Merman OC x Reader

Warnings (for the entire story): Yandere, Horror, Graphic Discriptions of Injury and Death, The Ocean, Body Horror, NonCon Touching, Dubcon, Female Reader, Extreme Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Chapter 1 Index Chapter 3

Author's Note: hi im alive again

This is fine, you’re doing fine. Nothing is wrong. 

If you kept telling yourself that, then maybe you’d start to believe it. The yacht was a decent size and very well decorated. It wasn’t even that far from the coast, only a few miles as it circled the bay for the evening, but despite acknowledging this, you felt like you were alone on a raft, stranded at sea. 

Refusing to look out the windows, let alone go outside on the deck, you shifted your focus onto the guests around you. Seeing everyone so happy and carefree eased your stress a bit. People from the school that you and Sammie attended, Sammie’s family, Jonah’s family... this helped you remember that you were not alone. All of you were here, tonight, to celebrate the engagement together. 

Although this took your mind off the fact that you were out on the water, it presented another fear – Sammie's engagement. You knew, in your heart, that this was her decision to make, but you also knew that she was making a horrible mistake. Jonah was a good man, true, but they were too young to take this step. It was too soon for Sammie’s life to change; you weren’t ready for her to leave you behi- 

“There you are!” There she was. “Why don’t you come outside? The moon is coming out!” 

“I don’t know, maybe in a little bit?” You offered, not trying to offend her. 

“[Y/N]…" she said in that disappointed tone that you hated so much. “Is everything alright? You seem kinda off.” 

“I’m fine!” you rushed to assure her, “I’m just a bit seasick.” 

“Are you sure? You’re more quiet than usual...” 

“Sammie, I-” 

You wanted to tell her everything. You wanted to say how little her exposure therapy had helped you, how much you opposed this marriage, how afraid you were. But, even as a deafening, screeching sound reverberated through the yacht, you weren’t sure that you could. 

It seemed like no time at all before the lights began flickering, and the guests began whipping their heads back in forth in utter confusion. And then... there was the panic. As the yacht jerked to the side, all the guests began to realize that a terrible accident had occurred. The lights had cut out entirely, and the yacht was rocking violently from side to side. It was apparent to everyone - the boat was sinking. 

“Sammie!” 

You stared into her eyes, now wide as dinner plates as she realized the situation. You were miles away from the shore, and with a free bar, it was virtually impossible for anyone to swim to safety. 

“They have lifeboats!” You tried to calm her, “They have measures in place-” 

Another rock, and people began screaming.  

As the staff began rushing to contain everyone, you began to hear a familiar humming sound. Oh God, no. You felt numb as your hands began to shake.   “No, no...” you murmured, trying desperately to get ahold of yourself. “This isn’t real, it’s all in your head... Sammie...” 

You turned to her in an attempt to find something that could ground you, but as you saw the blank, distant look on her face, you could tell that she could hear it as well. The sound was coming from outside, just beyond the deck. Then she started to follow it. 

“Sammie! No...!”  

You weren’t quite sure what happened next, in all honesty. Everything was a blur, and yet time seemed to crawl by. Between the chaos of the sinking ship, your incoming panic, and your attempts to stop Sammie from leaving, you suddenly found yourself outside, grasping onto the rails of the deck with one hand and Sammie’s arm In the other. 

The rocking had only grown more intense as did the sound. You could no longer lie to yourself that you were just imagining things, and your head began to feel light as you were forced to accept that there was something in the water below you. You struggled to stay standing as the yacht sunk down and the waves began crashing into you. There was a man calling out to you, and you were unsure if he was a guest or staff member.  

Something crashed into the side of the yacht, causing it to rock violently. You used the momentum to roughly shove Sammie towards the man. Doing this caused you to lose your balance, and another sharp rock launched you backwards towards the balcony. You grabbed onto it for dear life, but your hands slipped off the wet rails and you were quickly tossed over the side. You were dead silent, in shock, as you plummeted into the dark waters below. 

---

Dying. You were dying. 

You had to be; it was the only way to explain this feeling. Despite how hard you had tried throughout the years to prevent it, you were now experiencing your worst possible fear – drowning alone, forgotten, in the ruthless sea. You flailed your limbs reflexively, gracelessly, in hopes of pulling yourself back to the surface. You screamed; the water too dark to see anything with your bulging eyes as it forced its way down your throat and into your lungs. Your mind was racing, all of your regrets at the forefront of it. How could it all end this way? You had such potential, so many things that you wanted to do and experience – how could you die so soon, so pitifully?! 

You could barely register the freezing water, or the hard ocean floor you laid on, as you felt your body being torn apart, unable to accept that you were being eaten alive. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could feel your legs being broken, the salt of the water stinging the open wounds as your delicate flesh had been ripped off. Your skin split where your ribs were torn apart, your spine feeling as though it were being pulled from your body. Your eyes, your hands, your teeth – everything burned in the worst way possible.  

Above, everyone scattered around in pure chaos, but below the surface the silence was deafening. Here it was just you and your attacker. You felt your lungs shift one final time, and you could’ve sworn that you heard yourself screaming loud and clear before your consciousness slipped away. 

[ninapi]

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┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Infinity ╝

Premise: Kanae convinces Sanemi to go on a blind date in a combined effort from all the teachers at the academy to battle Sanemi’s imminent desolated future.

Word count: 3485

Note: This is setup in the Kimetsu Academy world, just so you know~ 😊

Part of a series. You can read the other two installments here: Giyuu, Rengoku.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kimetsu Academy had been known for many years for having the best teachers there are for every single one of their subjects.

They’ve been single-handedly picked for their roles for a reason.

Shinazugawa Sanemi, being the one in charge of math, was the most hated one among the students.

Truth is, he was an amazing teacher. He was extremely knowledgeable and was able to solve the hardest equations within seconds, making everyone else look like an idiot.

The problem with him wasn’t particularly the fact that he was a genius in his field, but his character.

It was virtually impossible to please this man.

If you didn’t bring your homework, you’d have to run around the school for the entire morning. If you did it but had wrong answers, you had to run around the school for the entire morning.

If you spoke out of turn, you’d have to clean the classroom on your own after class. If you forgot to put your phone in silent mode, said phone would end up flying out the window.

It was pretty easy to see why the students disliked the man this much.

Yet, his fellow teachers knew him better than that.

Yes, there were better ways to do things, nicer words to use, especially with children, but he did everything he did to teach them a lesson, to make sure they paid attention in class and to ensure their future would be bright and successful.

The students lack of love towards him wasn’t the only problem in his life though. What had him this sour was how majority of his co-workers were all either tying the knot or happily in a relationship.

He’s never been one to mess around with girls, he had no time for that. Studying and being the top has always been his priority, along with taking care of his brother on behalf of his parents.

But if he was being honest, something he rarely is, mind you, he felt lonely.

What triggered his ridiculously sour mood was how Tomioka managed to get a girlfriend so fast, and even worse, he barely had to do anything.

Kanae and Rengoku were lucky, like destiny pulled them in the right direction, took them straight into the hands of their beloved, and both were now in preparations to spend their life together with those who held them dear. But Tomioka? All that bastard had to do was scratch his belly while drinking some tea and had the pretty new intern wrapped around his finger.

It was like acid was being poured down his stomach, he could feel it opening holes all over it, consuming him with rage from the inside.

It’s not like he was attracted to the new intern, she was cute, but they barely talked before even when she was in his care; but it made him wonder how do you even get someone to like you back? Even his younger brother had a girlfriend before, and he was still so young…

He’s had girls confess their feelings for him before, especially in high school, but he was too busy at that time trying to raise his brother, work a part time job at the convenience store and trying to get good grades to be accepted in the university he so wished to go into, girls were definitely not a priority back then, and he didn’t really do anything to get them to confess, just ignore them and throw dirty looks at them. 

Girls are weird.

But now, he isn’t dealing with girls, he’s dealing with women.

And women are more complicated than girls.

How do you get them to look at you? He has a decent job, he owns his apartment, has experience raising children, the highest degree he could get in his dream university…and he was definitely in the handsome side of the scale…so what was he missing?

“Time, Shinazugawa. That’s what you don’t have.” Rengoku was by his side along with Kanae and Uzui who agreed to tag along for some drinks as to try to cheer his teammate up a bit.

“What does time have the fuck to do with this?” they had been drinking for a while now, his usual dirty mouth coming out to shine in its glory.

“Well, how do you pretend to meet a nice girl when you go straight to your apartment after work every day? I can assure you pretty girls don’t go knocking on stranger’s doors waiting to meet their destined husband…”

“Pfft like you can talk, your stupid ass dialed the wrong number and got a freaking wife out of that! Why do things like that only happen to you? What about me? Am I that much of a bad option…?” alcohol was now showing its effect on him, unbeknownst to all, Sanemi gets quite whinny and sometimes even tears up while drunk, a sight on its own some would say, but very unexpected, nonetheless.

“Sanemin I told you, just trust me! I know the perfect girl for you! Why do you keep ignoring me, huh? Is it because I’m getting married next week? Nobody wants to be my friend anymore because I’ll become a housewife. What’s so bad about that, HUH????” now it was her turn to sob, her face as red as it could get completely lost now that she had a couple of shots of who knows what.

“Jeeze could you both chill the fuck up? What do you mean Kochou?” Tengen who was now ‘babysitting’ according to his terms, tried to keep both of them from tugs and punches, these kids get really out of control with things as strong as pumpkin juice…

“My friend (Y/N), she also works a lot and has no time to meet people out of work, she’s super cute and gentle, and I’ve been trying to set them up for a while now, but his whiny self keeps rejecting her…” she was now poking her tongue out at Sanemi, sniffing in the process.

“Why would you do that, man? She’s really cute I’ve seen her picture before…”

“Wait what? Have you? How?” Kanae’s face was one of disgust, Tengen didn’t have the most ethical hobbies and that was common knowledge around the school.

“I…well let’s just say I’ve seen her picture ok…” he was now trying to hide his embarrassed face behind his enormous beer stein, not wanting to admit how he stalks his co-workers insta accounts when he’s bored.

“I…just…what if we don’t click? I mean, is not like I think she’s ugly or anything, I haven’t even seen her but that’s not the reason why I’m reluctant to the idea…I just…I’m fucking scared ok? I’ve never been on a date before, let alone a blind one…how am I supposed to prepare for that? What if she hates me? I better just stay single for the rest of my life, I took care of Genya as a child, he can take care of me as old man…” 

“No, he won’t. Kochou, send a text to your friend, he’s going on a date tomorrow night.” 

“WHAT”

“Yes, sir!” typing crazy fast in between a fit of drunken giggles, his fate was being cooked in a pot while he sulked talking to the empty shot glass in front of him about how his co-workers wanted him ridiculed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Being forced out of the house by his brother and a very angry Rengoku who had gotten in by accepting an aid call from Genya, Sanemi was now walking from the station to the coffee shop he was supposed to meet his date.

Kanae wasn’t the most specific when describing people, or things for that matter so he was fairly uncomfortable, “She’ll be wearing a dress and she’s such a cutie, you’ll know who she is right away!” or so she said, but there were at least six different girls wearing dresses currently inside the establishment and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go inside or not just yet.

He was about to call it quits when a panting woman came running towards the door, hair a bit disheveled, cheeks tinted pink with exertion and a beautiful long dress hugging her curves in all the right places, even if it was clear she went there running after work.

Holding onto the door with one hand, she stops in front of him, “Shinazugawa-san, is that you? I’m so sorry, am I late? Were you just leaving? I had a last-minute meeting and lost the train I was supposed to take, had to take the long route here.”

“I-, ugh yes, I mean no, you’re not late, yes, I am Shinazugawa and no I wasn’t leaving, I just- I didn’t know if you were there or not, all Kochou said was that’d you’d be wearing a dress and you were cute.” his flustered being along with his stammering made you chuckle, “Well yeah all she said was that you had white hair and a bunch of scars.”

“That’s a lot more info that what I got, what the heck?” you both were laughing at this point, “was she right though?” you were looking up at him prettily through your lashes and that caused his logic brain to shut down completely. “Yes, I do have white hair and a bunch of scars…”

“Not that, silly. Kanae-chan told you I was cute, was she right?” he’s never been so embarrassed in his entire life, he knew his friends were just trying to destroy his social life instead of helping, he was sure of it now.

“Ugh, the definition of cuteness varies from an individual to another. I don’t particularly enjoy cute things…” he nodded in thought, panic surging through his veins at the sadden look you gave him. “Though, I do think you’re pretty, if that answers your question…” trying to cover his own mistakes, he opens the door for you, motioning for you to go in the cafe and move on with this date.

“I’m (Y/N) by the way.” he grunted in acknowledgement as you looked at the pastry display trying to choose what to get.

“I’m Sanemi, but I guess you already know that…I was told the cake here is really good…” his comment made you turn your gaze towards the cute display of tiny cakes, immediately stealing your entire attention. “You like sweets?” he mumbled something under his breath but just nodded in response, “I do too! Great, we have something in common!”

The soft smile adorning your face made him feel like a stupid teenager, is this how Genya feels when he sees that one girl he has a crush on? He felt so inexplicably giddy, and he hated things he couldn’t properly understand.

“How about we get the featured menu?” stars were falling out of your eyes in excitement; it seemed the menu you were referring to was a menu limited to couples, two tiny lava cakes joined in the middle to form a heart, with two drinks of choice.

“But says it’s for coup-“ he just blinked in realization, clearing his throat, “..y-yeah sure, let’s get it.” clapping excitedly you went over to order the ‘Lovey-dovey sweets combo’, Sanemi towering over you from behind to hand his card over before you could take your purse out. This earned him a lovely smile from that beautiful face of yours, a strange sense of pride filling his insides; it felt like someone was patting him on the back, like he was doing a good job.

“Got it, Lovey-dovey sweets combo for the lovely couple of table 6 coming right along~!” the employee’s comment made you both flush, did you really look like a lovely happy couple? You literally just met-

“So Shinazugawa-san, Kanae told me you have a little brother and that attends your school. What’s that like? I always wanted to have a big family but ended up all by myself pretty quickly.”

“I do yeah, our parents left this world pretty soon, so I’ve been taking care of him since then…having him in the school is weird though, he’s kindda embarrassed of me I think..” the last part made you giggle, making space for the server who brought your order to the table.

“That sounds pretty impressive if you ask me, all I’ve had to take care of before is a small turtle I got as a Christmas present when I was in middle school. And she escaped through a window…” your disheartened face made him laugh; this wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. Sweets, chatting of nothing in particular with a pretty girl, why was he that nervous earlier? Why did he reject this outing so many times? “Yeah well it wasn’t easy…”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” you were taking little bites of the treat with your tiny fork, yet he hadn’t touched his yet, he was completely lost in the moment, enjoying the concept of dating for once in his life. “But I highly doubt your brother finds you embarrassing. If he’s a teenager, he probably just feels like his dad is looking at him doing… you know all the crazy nasty stuff kids do in high school…he’s probably embarrassed of himself and doesn’t want you to see him like that.” he’s never seen it that way, many things Genya has done or said in the past making a lot of sense now.

“You should be a teacher too, seems like you know a lot of things about kids.” he meant it as compliment, yet your smile didn’t reach your eyes. “I do know a lot about kids I guess, but not because I want to be a teacher.”

“Then?” he was now sipping on his coffee, fully immerse in the conversation. “Well, I wanted to…ugh…never mind that’s not something you should talk about in a first date…” shaking your head, you laughed awkwardly taking a sip of your own drink. Sanemi’s hand moved on its own, resting on top of yours in a comforting manner, “Hey…it’s fine. I don’t really know what people even talk about or not in first dates...” the smile he was giving you wasn’t the brightest out there, but it made your chest feel warm and made you want to share your thoughts with the man.

“I just…” you stopped once again and to this he responded by caressing the back of your hand, rubbing soft circles against it, “I- like I said earlier, I always wanted to have a big family…” you mumbled your words out, you didn’t want him to think you were trying to snatch him and make him a father on the first date, it was a weird topic for two people who just met, but in all honesty, one of the things Sanemi didn’t like about women of his age was how now a days nobody wants a family, the concept of marriage and kids scares the hell out of everyone lately, and all he wants is to get a family as big as the one he once had when the rest were still alive, it was actually endearing to him.

“So you’ve been doing your homework diligently to be a good mama, huh?” his teasing tone made you chuckle, the air wasn’t as thick anymore. “You could say that.”

“Well I think that’s pretty cool. I had to raise a child without any guidance, so it’s reassuring knowing you know what you’re doing…” he stops in his tracks realizing what he just said. All color drained away from his face, the tiny fork in his hand now discarded on the fancy tablecloth smearing it with chocolate fudge. “I…I mean…It’s a good thing…to be…you know prepared…and stuff…not that I’m trying to get you…ugh fuck I messed this up already, didn’t I?”

But the look in your face was one of adoration instead of horror as he had imagined it would be. He’s never seen such a beautiful loving smile in his life, it was like you actually had the same idea, like you didn’t mind talking about such a thing with someone you just met, like that love at first sight bullshit was actually a thing. “You didn’t~”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After a year of dating you, Sanemi finally decided to pop the question. Of course, motivated by all the crew at the academy, only him and Tengen were still not married, even Tomioka had eloped or something like that and was now expecting a child.

But you weren’t someone to mess with, he wanted to do things right.

He wanted things to last forever.

Reality is a fickle thing, couples that love each other madly can get divorced in the blink of an eye; beautiful families full of love can crash and disappear almost completely in a day like his did. He wanted to take things slow, to make sure he had everything ready to make you the happiest, to give you all you needed.

But you being you, had to do things your way.

He had booked a lovely and expensive Italian restaurant for the weekend, even the course was already pre-selected. He would get one of those corny cakes with lettering on it asking you to marry him. He booked it months ago, the perfect proposal for his perfect future little wife. If you said yes, that is.

But you…”Baby have you seen my pink socks?” you were snooping around his drawers while he got changed after work. You didn’t really live together, but you’d spend most days in each other’s apartments unwilling to spend a day without seeing each other, even if all you did together was sleep late at night.

“ugh the tiny ones?”

“Mhm!”

“I think they’re next to the bed, no? That’s where I put them last night.” your cute evil giggles, made him remember last night, completely distracting him for a second.

“Oh that’s right!”

With a loud gasp, he came running out of the bathroom to see you already holding the red velvety box in one of your hands. “My love…is…is this…?” tears were filling your eyes at a rapid pace, alarming him to no avail.

“Ugh…I was too slow…” he plopped down on the bed, holding his head down with both of his hands.

“Is it baby?” your tone was softer now as you made your way over to kiss the top of his head.

“I had this whole thing planned for the weekend…you sneaky little beast…” he threw you into the bed, tickling your sides relentlessly as a way to punish you. “Yes. It’s a ring..happy now? Why do you always end up crashing all my surprises? You evil, beautiful woman!” he was showering your face with kisses as he continued to attack your sides, your laughter made his heart soar every time he heard it, it made him feel alive.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know. I swear!!” you wiggled your way out of his grasp, panting in between chuckles, before holding his face gently, placing a soft loving kiss to his plump lips. “I do.”

“You do what? Enjoy crashing my surprises?” he was now resting his forehead on yours, bringing you over to rest on the pillows and cuddle you closer. “Not that, silly. I do, want to marry you…if that’s what this ring is about of course…” the hope in your eyes made it impossible for his heart to pump anymore blood into his blood stream, he was livid, even if this wasn’t what he spent days planning, the answer was all that mattered, he could always cancel the damn reservation.

“Of course that's what this is about, you party crasher.” smiling, he placed one more kiss onto your lips, deeper this time, his hands resting on your lower back as you both bathe on each other’s warmth. “Then I guess we have a lot of things to decide…”

“Like which apartment should we sell?”

“And where to put all your tiny socks…”

Laughing became a staple of his daily life since you became a part of it.

Seeing you every day became the highlight of his life.

Forever never felt this real before and he started to wish the concept would take shape for you two as you grow old together, because as corny as that might sound, is all he can think about at night.

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Masterlist

[lani-wr1tes]

Connie x Black! Fem! Reader.

connie was the love and light of your life , and you where his. as far as you know , you did no wrong in his eyes. everyone told you that this was the "honeymoon phase" but let's be honest who's in that phase for three years.

as far as you were concerned, you were the main girl of his life, atleast you thought you were. of course you had your suspicions but you were convinced he'd never do anything like that.

there wasn't much he could've done anyways, he lived with you and it was the same thing every day. you woke up , he woke up , you got ready , he got ready , you stayed home or went to studios for photos, ran errands and while he went to work , tattooed , gave a couple piercings then went home.

so there really wasn't much he can do? right?. well today was different. tonight officially made three years of your relationship. so when he went off to work today you were a little suspicious when he didn't say anything about the occasion.

you had the whole day set up. 9:30 hair appointment, 3:15 nails , then the rest of the day cleaning and cooking then boom! surprise your boyfriend with a anniversary date from home.

at 6:30, when he usually got home you sat the table waiting for him to walk through that door. atleast that is what you thought should happen, right now it was 11:37 pm. upset , you were cleaning everything you set up. "niggas not even here.”

you went to your room, mumbling all negative words to yourself about him and the occasion. cleaning up the room a little bit then going into the bathroom to shower.

when you finally finished that and your nightly routine, you laid down on your bed looking at the digital clock on your nightstand. 12:30.

sighing to yourself you closed your eyes , trying your hardest to get some sleep but it seemed virtually impossible, the room door opened and you turned your body around seeing it was connie.

"hey mami." he leaned over the bed to kiss you but you dodged it. "where were you?" connie rolled his eye at your question.

''''ok, could we not do this today?" he grumbles. "i don't feel like doing anything right now, it's late and i'm tired."

connie walked into the bathroom, stripping his clothes till his underwear and throwing his shirt and jeans in a hamper. "connie tell me what the fuck made you so tired that you come home damn near twelve in the morning."

you weren't even going to mention your anniversary , you're going to let him figure that on his own. " i was with jean." he plopped on the bed facing away from you.

"seriously that's all you have to say especially today too?" you sucked your teeth looking at him.

"y/n, i don't have the energy for this. we'll do something another time go the bed."

"fine. bitch ass. you mumbled turning away from him. your eyes slowly opened, scanning around the room. you slightly squinted, in an attempt to focus on the numbers, glowy white on the pink alarm clock

you looked over on the bed and saw the empty side of the bed. the smell of food hit your nose harshly causing you to stand up.

you slid your slides on, and walked into the kitchen. connie stood over the stove, one hand on a spatula and the other on a phone.

"mom. ma. listen." he turned off the stove. "; know i messed up so ima make it up for her today. you walked over to the fridge still in a sour mood from last night.

"you know i love you right?" he looked at you in the eye. even though it was dark you were still able to see each other's faces. "fuck out my face”

"and no matter what i say or do or how i act i still love you." he said with a dead serious face. "i get it whitney houston. you doing everything but apologizing."

“and i'm getting there." he rolled his eyes and laughed a bit. " i love you and i'm sorry."  connie looked sincere and you just looked at him.

"I'll make it mean something but for now do you forgive me?" you sucked your teeth and shrugged. "i guess i accept your apology but that doesn't mean i forgive you."

"ima take what i can get mama.”