#and yes anon i do actually want to draw them

[mellohiizz]

🌀🌀you want to draw devotion duo (zam and mapicc) 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀you want to draw them soooo bad 🌀🌀🌀🌀

guys i dont know what happened this just randomly appeared on my canvas i dont remember drawing this/j anyway, was going to draw them anyway because that clip now lives in my brain and im getting devotion duo brainworms...

[velvetwyrme]

which deception would have an sti AND fuck cars?

in reference to: https://www.tumblr.com/penny-anna/767952128217104384/imagine-youre-a-mechanic-in-the-transformers?source=share

okay. so. first off. anon, thank you for sending me this because the idea that you read that post and just went- "hey, you know who i should pose this question to?" and sent it to me- is hysterical and i lvoe u.

anyway theres also a Texty answer under the cut if you want to read that, because i genuinely DO have thoughts about this, but i wanted to draw that comic because this ask made me laugh very hard when i saw it in my inbox.

also, the thrilling conclusion of the comic answer:

he fucked that car!!!!!!!

hi! Texty time. I think a lot of them would have/be one but not the other (either has a STI or is a Carfucker) but i included some of those here anyway because i think my thought process was funny for some of them. this is all purely my own opinions etc. etc. no basis for anything only vibes. i went through a lot of options and came to a lot of conclusions.

to reiterate the Chart for claritys sake:

Soundwave: No STI and no Carfucking. This is true across all versions of Soundwave imo. Rumble and Frenzy are a solid no on the STI front and a solid yes on the Carfucking.

Starscream: no STI, no Carfucking (despite what Soundwave thinks). TFP!Starscream specifically might have an STI though. Sorry man. Skywarp definitely has/had a STI but gets it treated on account of his trinemates. No Carfucking. Thundercracker would fuck a car but doesn't have an STI.

Shockwave: ??? - I'm not sure I want to know. "Once, as part of an experiment" was the original thing I wrote for his answer lol. True across continuities as well.

Anyway. moving on...

My actual answer for Megatron: REALLY depends on continuity. Here's a sample:

G1? Yeah, probably both. I can see it.

IDW/MTMTE? Nah. Maybe? ... Nah. I feel like if he had an STI it'd have been back when he was a miner. Would not fuck a car.

Earthspark? I feel like no STI but yes to the Carfucking. Except he feels really guilty about it after. I still haven't watched ES but this is the impression I get from him.

TFA? oh god. i don't know... i don't know....... he probably fucks cars. No STI.

TFP? Yeah absolutely are u kidding me? Yes to both.

Constructicons: I feel like they'd be a yes to both, but not at the same time, so they wouldn't have been the one/s to transmit a STI to a car. Also Hook would be ON TOP of treatment. Once they ALL got infected after combining into Devastator, and that was miserable for everyone. Nobody has fessed up to being the one who had it in the first place, but now they have treatment on hand just in case.

Also while on the topic of combiners... I think some of the Stunticons are also pretty good candidates for STI/Carfucking. Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider in particular shfkgbekfbk

I considered Tarn/The DJD and Overlord just because of how freaky them guys can get, but I think Tarn runs too tight a ship for that to happen, and Overlord is preoccupied with. worse things. The Scavengers on the other hand... sorry to Misfire, I can see him giving a car a STI. Relatedly, Grimlock would fuck a car but not have an STI.

Who else................................ wait.

Astrotrain. I can see it. Okay bye im going to sleep this took me too long to reply to fhfjfbrmfbdj

[catssluvr]

it would be sososo wonderful if you wrote a cute little blurb abt Spencer and fem!BAU!reader both coming into work with little doodles all over their arms and the team notices or something <3 (yes this is the same anon that sent the headcanon lol)

hii! i loved your headcanon and am so glad you requested this 💌

𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔, spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

you relationship with spencer is revealed when you both show up to work with doodles on your arms <3

warnings: none <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Spencer reaches for the mug full of hot coffee, taking a generous sip. His button up feels almost immediately too hot, body warming up due to the hot beverage. He rolls up his sleeves without a second thought, arms covered in little doodles on full display to anyone in the bullpen who decides to look at them.

"Hey, pretty boy. Did you see- are those hearts?" Derek approaches his desk with a teasing smile already making it's way to his lips. Spencer scrambles to cover his arms up, clumsy pulling his sleeves down.

"Did i see what?" He feigns innocence, crossing his arms over his chest as he's way too nervous to actually button up the sleeves. There's no way he's going to out the relationship he's been hiding for a good few months because of some doodles.

"Oh no, you're not running away from this. Why have you got cute drawings all over your arms, uh?" He teases even further, trying to take a peek at the skin under Spencer's button up.

Your gaze immediately shoots up to them once you realize what Derek is referring to, quickly faking a normal expression once you realize your eyes have widened. You pretend to be looking at the files in your table, waiting for the answer. Your table is not far from his so you really have to keep it cool.

"I uh- i was bored and drew them." Spencer says the first excuse that comes to mind and realizes rather quickly how bad it sounds. His neck turns red and it soon spreads to his cheeks and ears too.

"You want me to believe you were bored and decided to draw hearts and butterflies on your arms? Sure, Reid." He chuckles, making sure to give him a hard time.

"Aw, does my sweet boy genius have a girlfriend?" Penelope snoops in, a less teasing and more bright smile on her lips.

"It sounds like he does. Unless he's suddenly ambidextrous and is able to draw perfect hearts on both of his arms." Emily comments, just as interested to make Spencer flustered as Derek.

"I- What if i am?!" Spencer's voice comes out a tad bit squeakier than intended, facade crumbling very easily. He looks at you almost desperately, trying to find a way out of this interrogation without having to reveal your relationship.

"Come on guys, leave the poor boy alone." Rossi saves him before you can, but he seems just as curious as the rest of them. Raised eyebrows and looking directly at him.

"Do you know anything about this, gorgeous?" Derek turns his gaze to you. Spencer gulps nervously, trying to act as normal as possible now that you're also about to be involved.

"Me? Why would i know?" You question a bit too defensively. Lying isn't exactly your forte and now that everyone is looking at you, it feels even harder.

"Wait- do i sense jealously?" It now feels like you're the next chosen victim to their interrogation. You might have aimed for careless but it definitely came off as defensive and bothered.

"You really don't." You roll your eyes as you answer, noticing the way Spencer gives you an apologetical look. You smile for long enough so that he notices but quick enough so no on else sees it.

"I think we do." Rossi agrees with Derek.

You sigh exasperatedly, hand coming to rub your forehead. What you don't notice is the way your shirt rids down, exposing your also covered arm.

"Oh my god- she has them too!" Penelope gasps, not holding back the surprise.

You wonder how they hadn't figured out you and Spencer are dating before. You both aren't exactly great liars and it was just a matter of time until someone caught one of your stollen kisses on the workplace.

"Oops?" You mutter out, cheeks painfully hot as you give up on trying to hide it. There's no way they would believe any kind of excuse now.

"Can't say i'm surprised." Emily is the first to say anything, leaving to go back to her desk as if nothing had happened.

"I'm so happy for you guys." Penelope ruffles Spencer's hair with a smile that's definitely making her cheeks hurt, while Derek resumes to shaking his head with a chuckle.

Spencer gives you a lopsided smile and you quickly realize he's trying to know if you're okay with all of it. You nod with a smile of your own, fingers tracing the doodles on your arm.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

[lundenloves]

bro ik simon buys his daughter some silly ass shit on missions😭 like he will buy her a mug ( a mug, FOR A BABY. ) titled: "worlds best daughter and dad duo" .. wont even let the reader hold their kid as long as hes some n shit.. just pls dad!simon hcs PLS

you ask and you shall receive anon. here are the current thoughts swooshing around in my messy brain right now. 🪄

dad!simon masterlist | hc 2

my god definitely tho.

He’s the definition of girldad. To a T. Like, when she’s younger and he’s still new to the whole thing it’s all scary but once he’s past that and realises it’s literally just a tiny person. It’s over for everyone around him.

That little girl is worth crushing skulls for fr.

Waking up in the middle of the night to baby cries was something he took in stride. The first few times definitely scared the shit out of him and he wanted to wake you up. But then again, realising that it was just a tiny person. He would get up and probably fall asleep on the sofa with her instead of taking her back to the cot.

Not that he would admit it but he felt way more relaxed with her sleeping on his chest.

Shirtless.

SKIN. TO. SKIN.

When she gets older, she starts asking questions about him and his job and all the ‘why’ follow ups. We’re talking ages 7-9 here.

“Why wear skull stuff if you’re called Ghost?”

“It’s a callsign.”

“What’s a callsign?”

“A nickname.”

“Why?”

Literally his mini-me though. She follows him everywhere. All around the house, upstairs downstairs, outside inside. EVERYWHERE. He never grows tired of it though. Always entertaining the questions.

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes. I have a name.”

Then telling her it and she goes onto call him Simon for three days straight before moving onto another source of entertainment.

She draws pictures of 141. Penning a little version of herself in the middle of the men, a big arrow pointing to each of them labelled by their names spelt wrong. Sop. Pris.

Soap draws pictures back stfu.

Definitely the type of relationship with his daughter where they’re close until she becomes interested in boys and her dad is suddenly embarrassing lmaoooo.

Johnny is actually the embarrassing uncle.

Her first boyfriend my days.

I know by this point, he has another daughter. No one can convince me otherwise. He has a minimum of two.

“She’s gonna see her boyfriend.” The younger one would sing and Simon is right onto that shit. Dad stance n’ all.

“What age is he?” First question.

“Dad.”

LeaveTheDoorOpen™️

His kids don’t actually know what he works as. It’s like, no one knows exactly what their dad does. SAS shit or smth.

For forms, he just waves a hand of dismissal and is like, “Just say i’m in the army.”

“Are you in the army?”

“No.” this mf

Having two daughters definitely be teaching him a lot. Like periods. He never took them seriously until he was being barked at for the seventeenth time in one day, deciding in that moment to understand.

Also the designated bag holder and credit card user on shopping trips.

Dilf.

this is short but i’m writing a huge smut for him rn don’t tell anyone. you. yes, you.

taglist? click this link to complete the form.

[jemiswumbo]

she’s out of her mind

luke castellan x daughter of hades!reader

anon prompt: Hey babes! I saw your post about wanting prompts and I was wondering you could write Luke Castellan x Daughter of Hades! Reader where it's like sunshine (Luke) x grumpy (Reader) trope?

authors note: hello i am back with a small drabble for the cute prompt above! i got drunk off of applebees dollaritas and wrote this in 15mins so do with that information what you will. hope you enjoy! :)

title is from she’s out of her mind by blink-182. lyrics are a lil fitting.

warnings: none? i think? it’s just fluff, i think. sort of.

“Wake up, sunshine.”

You groaned low and deep, releasing a guttural sound full of pure agony. Rolling over on your (extremely warm, cozy, sleep inducing) bed, you came face to face with your boyfriend, Luke Castellan, who was currently opening up the curtains in your cabin.

Being the only child of Hades at the camp, the entire cabin was sparse and empty, save for the corner you called home. There was a bed with black sheets and blanket, a side table full of the few memorabilia you had to your name, and a dresser beside that which held your extensive collection of black clothing. The walls resembled the inner workings of a cavern; slick rock prodded with small bones and beautiful jewels encapsulated the bedroom areas. Sconces held lit torches burning bright with turquoise Greek fire.

Your favourite part of the cabin, though, was the specially-crafted blackout curtains that were typically drawn tight over the windows. Not even a sliver of light could penetrate the thick, black, velvet drapes. That was, until, your idiot boyfriend took it upon himself to draw them open. The harsh blades of sunlight violated your eyes, illiciting your pained groan. You hated it when people interrupted your sleep.

“Luke,” You whined, shoving your face into your pillow, hoping to evade the blinding light. “Let me sleep, please, for the love of the gods.”

“Fuck the gods,” Luke said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice without needing to see his (cute, devilishly handsome) face. “Anyways, it’s 9am! You’ve slept in long enough and I wanna have breakfast with you and your pretty face.” Luke flopped down on the bed beside you and flipped your body back over with ease, in a foolish attempt to force you into the world of the living.

Typical for a child of Death, you kept your eyes squeezed shut and pounded the bedsheet with your fist. “I will literally, genuinely, actually murder you without hesitation if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”

“That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend.” Luke said, pressed a small kiss to your nose. You swatted him away with anger.

Any other (normal, rational, smart) kid at camp would’ve soiled their pants and fled in terror from such a threat uttered by the one and only daughter of Hades. You were capable of a simple killing — you were graciously bestowed the gift of sucking out the souls of mortals with a mere flick of the wrist — and so it was only logical to fear such a ghastly claim. Luke, however, had realized early on in your Camp days that you were full of shit and would never hurt a fly. He took an opportunity to befriend you and you’d been dating for a few years now. You were (truly, madly, deeply) in love with him and yes, despite your immense hatred for morning sunlight, you would never actually hurt him.

“Come on,” he prodded again, cuddling up beside you and tapping your forehead mischievously. You mustered the courage to crack open one eye (barely) and saw him grinning down at you. “Wake up, baby. Let’s get breakfast and then spend the day at the docks. We can swim and sun bathe and have a picnic—“

“Gods, you’re ambitious today,” you grumbled, rolling back over to face the opposite direction of Luke (and, the open windows), allowing him to grab your waist and pull you up against his chest. “I hate being in the sun. You know this.”

“Yeah, but I like to try new things with you,” Luke said, peppering a few kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck, squeezing his taut arm around your torso. “And I’m dying to see you in a bikini.”

“Perv,” you mumbled, but deep down you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, causing a crimson blush to bloom over your chest. “Give me another hour to sleep.”

“No,” Luke said, and now it was his turn to groan impatiently. “Please, now, for me? I love you and want to spend time with you.”

“I hate you and want you to leave me alone,” you replied, pulling your fluffy duvet back up over your shoulders. “Bed time.”

“Beach time,” Luke decided. He sat up slightly and ripped the blankets entirely off your form, exposing your body to the cold air of the morning.

You shrieked. “Luke, you asshole—“

Luke jumped out of the bed, smiling wide. He gathered up all the blankets up into his arms, much to your dismay, and held them away from you. You only wore shorts and a tank top to sleep last night, and the chill in the room froze you right to your bones. Luke bundled up the bedding into a ball and fired it across the room. “There, now you’re acclimated.”

“You’re dumb as hell.”

“You are a grouchy, sleepy demon who needs breakfast and vitamin D.”

“Ugh!” You exploded, finally shoving yourself out of bed in a fit of exasperation. Luke had the audacity to applaud you. “Okay, there, I’m up!”

“So proud of you, my sleeping beauty,” Luke remarked. He crossed the room to you and placed a tender kiss to your lips, making sure to nip at your pouty bottom lip.

“Sorry for being rude,” You murmured, after having kissed him back. “I love you. I just don’t love being woken up.”

“I know,” Luke said with a grin. “I actually think you’re cute when your grumpy, so I do it on purpose to bug you.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the small smirk from appearing on your cheeks. “Whatever. You promised breakfast and I’m starving, so let’s go.”

Luke mimicked your playful eyeroll. He took your hand, leading you out the door and towards the dining pavilion.

note 2: hi hi! if you read this and enjoyed it and maybe want to read more from me, i would super appreciate prompts and requests sent to my inbox! can’t guarantee i’ll write them all but i will for sure try my best! thanks for reading! :)

[divinegrey]

ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ʙʟᴜᴇ / ᴊɪɴx x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sorry for the wait everybody!! been writing other things in the meantime, arcane hasn't been my sole focus. also i have homework and exams. but here's something to appease all of you!! anon, i hope i did this prompt justice!

prompt: I'd like to request a Jinx x Fem! Reader. I like the idea of the reader being a follower of Jinx, as I think the dynamic could be fun. I think it could be cool to explore a follower of Jinx getting to know her and realizing that she's more than just a symbol. She's a multifaceted individual.

words: 1585

warnings: none

It started when she caught you tagging the side of a building. With her face, no less. 

With all the shit going down in Zaun in the wake of Silco’s death and every gang leftover fighting for scraps of power, it was only time before Jinx caught up to the fact that while yes, her face is plastered everywhere on wanted posters, there are about a dozen more spray-painted graffiti tags of her over them. Which was the goal of what you were doing when she dropped down from a building and walked to your side. 

All she did was look at the statuesque version of her face, washed in shades of blue, and say, “My nose doesn’t look like that.” 

And she was right.

Of course, with time, you got better at it. The wanted posters did a mean disservice, honestly. The only thing they got correct were the pink eyes, pink eyes that followed you when you went to your shitty box of an apartment and flopped onto a mattress flattened by years of use. You’d go to sleep, wake up, grab your paint duffel, and head back out again. The nice thing about Zaun is that there’s always an empty spot just waiting to be tagged. 

Somehow, Jinx always finds you. 

“You know people see you as a leader, right?” You say, shaking a can of neon pink, the ball rattling around inside the canister. You glance over your shoulder to where Jinx sits on some pipes connected to the wall, her braids dangling and the gold bullet casings wrapped around reflecting the faint light that falls through the fissures. With a gesture to your own head of hair, dyed an insane hodge-podge of bright colors, blue included, you continue, “Silco’s gone. Whole world down here has turned upside down. But for the first time in a while, we’ve got hope. Cuz of you. Cuz of what you did to those fuckin’ Pilties.” 

“For all the good it did,” Jinx remarks, a dryness to her tone you’ve come to know and love. 

“I’m serious. C’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t know the reason why I keep painting you? Why a dozen other taggers I know keep painting you? Why the color blue is nearly sold out in every damn shop?” You kneel down, arcing a curve of pink paint along the grey brick wall, moving quick and precise. Overthinking it makes it worse. “I’m not wearing spray-painted clothes in your colors for nothin, Jinx.” 

She turns, peering at you. In the shadows, her eyes seem to reflect some more, glowing like a cat’s would. “Because y’all have some weird, deluded sense that I’m a leader, or somethin’.” 

“You are. To me. To us.” You point at the other tags in the alleyway, some of them copies of the same mark you’ve seen a dozen times around town. Jinx’s name, sigils of BOOM! and explosives doodled about. You twist and take a seat on the scaffolding, your legs dangling off the side of it. “I didn’t know you when I first started drawing you. I heard what you did, and I thought damn, there’s someone out there willing to actually do something. In a single day, you did more than Silco ever did in years. Sure, we might be going head long into a war, but dying free is better than living under someone else’s boot.” 

Jinx hums. She leaps off the pipes, crossing the gap between you and her with ease, landing on the wooden scaffolding. She straightens up, gazing at the half-finished tag you’re working on. With a hum, she turns to you, and puts something in your hand. Before you have the time to look down and figure out what it is, Jinx says, “Nozzle control. Quality on some of your cans are shit, no offense. Slap that thing on it and you won’t have an issue after that.” 

“Oh, thanks—” 

“Don’t mention it!” Jinx steps off the scaffolding, landing on the ground below with a THUD. “And for the record, I ain’t the kinda person to follow.” 

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to convince me!” You call down, grinning from ear to ear. Her brows furrow together, then a small huff, a hint of a smile on her own face. She walks away, off to do… whatever it is that she does when she’s not hanging out with you. 

It isn’t for some time that you see her again. You’d say you’re worried, but you pass through the crowds hearing whispers of Jinx sightings. Every day, it seems another head of blue hair appears, the quiet signs of revolution brewing in the heart of Zaun as the enforcers grow more and more strict, searching anyone and everyone for some hint or clue to find the one that destroyed the Council Chamber in Piltover. You’ll never say a word. 

You walk into your apartment. Work was… work, boring and mind-numbing as it always is. You wonder if you can handle another day of it, but another day will bring another chance of seeing her out there, so you decide not to fly off the handle just yet. You shrug off the soot-stained work clothes, and where you reach for your paint-splattered jacket, it isn’t there. 

Instead, a note. 

Never had anyone believe in me quite like you. The Hound’s statue, midnight. Come and get it. 

With the pink lettering and the doodles of monkeys and bombs scribbled across the page, it doesn’t need to be said just who left this note. You snatch it off the wall, utterly beaming; Gently, you fold it into fourths, tucking it into your shirt. Thank god for the late shift— less waiting!

Any of the weariness you might’ve felt before is gone as you race through the streets, taking any and every shortcut you know. The night is quiet, what with the enforced curfew put up by the Pilties to discourage wandering, not that they’ve done a good job of it. Zaun is Zaun, and the cogs down here will always keep turning, whether Piltover likes it or not. 

When you arrive at the open plaza where the statue erected to Vander, the Hound of the Underground, is, your mouth drops in shock to find the entire plaza covered, every square inch of it, in neon paint. Sigils upon sigils that you have seen time and time again, glowing in the dark. It reaches all the way to the statue, pink highlights in Vander’s hair and blue accents along his metal jacket. 

Sitting on the shoulder of the statue, paint can in one hand and your jacket in the other, is Jinx. 

“Shoulda known you’d be a little early. Good thing, I work fast,” Jinx remarks. She crooks a finger at you to come closer, and you do, taking care to step over the paint lines on the stone. You’re a little in awe of the work she’s done— how has nobody taken notice? Come to think of it, you heard there was a scuffle a few blocks away. The logistics don’t seem to matter anymore the closer you get to her. 

You arrive at the base of the statue. “How’d you even know where I live?” 

“Sweets, there are a lot of things I know about you. And a lotta things you know about me. Things that might drive other people away, but not you,” Jinx says, something like an angel as she looks down upon you from the statue. In the flash of a second and the trace of neon light left in the sky, she’s standing in front of you, your back pressed against the statue. The beam of moonlight that breaks through shines on her, her shimmer-pink eyes locked onto your frame. “You keep sticking to the inside my brain, can’t stop thinking about you.” 

“Could say the same for you,” you reply, a little breathless. “Why’d you do all this? Get my jacket and bring me here?” 

“Cuz you showed me somethin’ important. That people, for whatever crazy reason they got in their head, believe in me,” Jinx says. She holds out your jacket to you, and you take it, slipping your arms through the sleeves and fixing the collar so it stands upright. Her eyes go from bottom to top, taking her sweet time. “I wanna show em what I can do. Give those people with my blue in their hair a reason to keep going. To keep fighting.” 

“You have me. All the way, Jinx,” you say, putting a hand over the front of your jacket, where a pink heart has been painted. “So what do you wanna do? Other than all this?”

“Right now?” Jinx cocks a grin. “I wanna kiss you.” 

What? You blink, wondering if you heard that right, but her taking a step closer to you only confirms that yes, you did hear it right. You swallow the nerves, finding your cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling. “And then what?” 

“And then, we show Zaun all the fun we have to offer, and we tell Piltover to shove their Hextech where the sun don’t shine,” Jinx finishes, her hands grabbing the lapels of your jacket and pulling you in. Your lips touch hers, something you never thought would happen, not in your wildest dreams. 

But here you are, arms wrapped around Jinx as she kisses you in the streets of Zaun, the cry of revolution soon to come. 

~~~~~

A/N: thank you for reading!! comments are always appreciated <3

[sunandflame]

So, I have it in my head that Kyojuro’s nipples are really sensitive (and if he doesn’t have much experience then I don’t think he would know that), but I think someone could get him real hot and bothered just by playing with them (and fuck it is so hot when big strong guys like their titties played with, amiright??)

🥹🙏🏼 could please have a drabble of someone figuring that out? Maybe both him and whoever’s getting their paws under his shirt figuring it out together? Sitting in his lap and teasing him for however long —light, tiny little pinches that make him squirm and whimper, warm, swirling circles with your fingertips that make his jaw drop open, fluttering nudges and flicks that make his hips buck under you. Anything you do to them gets a reaction, could do it for hours, but five minutes of it and he’s a wiggly, panting mess, but he doesn’t want you to stop so you try putting one in your mouth and—- 😈🥵

Dear anon baby, you are so fucking right. This is indeed very hot. When I saw this I KNEW this was way too good to dismiss this delicious idea. I am just so sorry for answering this so late. I hope you are still around and I hope you enjoy it!

Weak Spot

Warnings: suggestive, nipple play, nipple teasing, dry humping, smut

Word Count: 701

Pairing: Kyojuro x Reader

crossposted on AO3

You were sitting on your favorite place in this whole world and that was your boyfriend's lap. You liked how his muscular and big thighs felt under your thighs. In the beginning of your relationship you were so self conscious, not sure if your weight crushed him, but Kyojuro assured you that you weighed nothing for him. After you made sure that he was not lying to make you feel better for your weight, you started to sit more often on his lap as this was a way to be as close as possible. 

It was winter and you started to feel cold, searching for some heat that you knew that your boyfriend would provide. Your mind was absent when your hand wandered under his shirt, laying your hand on his chest and stroking his skin. 

A little gasp was to be heard and you lifted your head to see into your boyfriend's eyes who was starting to blush. 

“Kyojuro honey, are you okay?”  Curious you furrowed your eyebrows

“Hm, yes yes. It’s nothing!”

“If you say so…” 

You thought nothing of it and placed your head on his shoulder again and continued your stroking. Your fingers accidentally brushed his nipples and then you heard it again. That little sweet gasp of his. Can it be…? Now your hands slid over his chest not involuntarily but carefully, brushing against his nipple until you heard him holding back a whimper. Oh he is sensitive there… A mischievous idea came into your mind and your fingers were now circling around his nipple to tease him lightly. 

“My flame…” His voice was strained, as he was trying to gain his last self control, his face completely red. “Please…”

“Please what…?” Your fingers didn’t stop drawing circles around his nipple until you decided to give them a very slight flick. That caused him to buck his hip under you. He realized what he had just done and his face turned into a scarlet tone, embarrassed over his own reaction.

You undid his shirt and revealed those sweet manly titties that you were keen to explore now. You continued to stroke them with your fingers. And his jaw actually fell open when you were fluttering nudges and started to flick his nipples. The bulge of his, under your lap, was pushing against your ass and thigh. His skin was too hot and you decided that he needed a cool off by your mouth.

You drawed out your tongue, licking first his chest before you finally got to your desired target. You heard him whimper as he wiggled under you but did nothing to push you away. He enjoyed this far too much even if you overstimulated him.

Kyojuro was truly a mess. It was the first time he experienced those things and he was not sure how further he could go. His skin was tingling and feeling hot. His pants were incredibly tight and he worried that his zipper wouldn’t hold his dick anymore if you continued to play with his chest like this. Things didn't get any better when you started to dry hump him, causing more friction. That’s it. It was impossible to hold back his moan. He grabbed tightly on your waist as he tried to stop your hips from moving. 

His strength was remarkable and something that had always turned you on, but this did not stop you from continuing your play with his nipples. So you went further, licked and bit his chest, eliciting all those sweet moans and whimpers from him, while his hands bruised your waist. You did not mind at that point. You would wear those love marks with pride. 

You did a quick cat lick. It felt so deliciously warm after all that preparation you had done. So beautiful red and puckered. You sunk your teeth into his nipple and that was the moment where he came undone, trembling as he gasped for air. You felt how his cock was twitching under you and a wet spot forming on his pants. A satisfied smile was on your lips as you gave him a kiss on his lips.

“I guess we found out your weak spot, my love.”

[alnair-jpg]

Olympics AU Info dump!

First, I am blown away by how much love the series is getting, thank you all so much! I do really enjoy all the comments and reactions in the tags. Know that they all delight me and the only reason I don’t reply to everything is because there are so many! But I read them all 💕

General questions:

Can you draw the designs or concepts? Write fanfic in this AU?

Yes of course! I’d love for you to tag me if you post them so I can see

Do they all know each other?

At first, I would say no- with the exception of Nico and Will (they’re developing a whole backstory in my head that I cannot and will not stop.). But they all meet in the Olympic Village after the opening ceremonies and quickly become friends. They all try their best to attend each other’s events. (Someone please tell me how Percabeth becomes a thing. Please. 🙏 )

Why didn’t Percy win gold?

Percy was an Olympic medalist in swimming before moving to diving. After competing in several swimming events and feeling like they were all just small variations of the same thing, he wanted more of a challenge. He chose diving to stay rooted in to the water, but to add a new dimension to his bodily awareness and control.

What’s Annabeth and Luke’s rivalry?

They most definitely trained together, and it was Luke’s skill that motivated Annabeth to aim for the Olympics. But, she wanted to compete for her home country, Greece, which Luke thought was just a shortcut since there was a clearer path to an Olympic team in a smaller country. Annabeth is constantly trying to prove to him that she would have made it to the top of the sport either way.

Also, apologies to the IRL fencers out there for the inconsistency. I know fencing is a gendered sport, and Annabeth’s gear/style are inconsistent, please forgive the oversight ☺️🫶

Volleyball?

The whole Hunters of Artemis are a volleyball team (that apparently has no country 😅). Thalia ends up the captain. When Reyna moves on from tennis they welcome her with open arms.

Rejected sports

Will as a runner. Canonically, he’s super fast, but just having him as a sprinter didn’t fit with his personality.

Will as a pole vaulter. Specifically the guy that lost because he was ‘blessed a little too much’ and knocked down the bar. I will not explain further.

Will as a gymnast. He was this || close to being a gymnast essentially modeled after Steven Nedoroscik, I had the sketch and everything. (I shared it here!) But when an anyonomous ask clued me into the sick medical team uniforms it all fell into place from there. (Thank you no-longer-anon @helyeahmangocheese !)

Percy in anything equestrian related. I see him not having the patience for all the formality of it all, but he definitely crashes Hazel’s shows and chats up all the competition (the horses.)

Annabeth on a sailing team. Also, related to that, Reyna on a sailing team. It was a fun idea, especially for Reyna and her history with pirates but ultimately it was really hard to capture in a few illustrations.

Nico in several winter sports. For consistency mostly. He could fit for a lot of winter sports - ice skating and snowboarding are my personal favorites.

Leo as a shooter. He would most definitely build his own gear and make tweaks to his weapon. Which would get him immediately disqualified.

Jason in discus. Jason as a basketball player. Golf is just… fitting. 😂

Other Characters I’ve been thinking about

(that may have art in the works… and may not actually be athletes!)

Clarisse

Meg

Grover

Rachel

Lester / Apollo

Mr. D

Chiron

[clairewritesandrambles]

Scott needily grabbing your ass when he’s cums when you’re on top… 🫢 those hands 😩

Anon. ANON. Please, I am not strong enough for this today.

He doesn't let you get on top often. He prefers seeing you underneath him, either fucking you into the mattress from behind or watching your cock drunk face while you're a mess for him. So when he does? Oh, it's even hotter to him than usual.

Note: I wrote this with a plus-sized reader in mind, because my body is the exact reason why I actually hate being on top in my own sex-capades.

This spiraled. I started thinking this would be like 100-200 words. It's almost 1300. I hope it's good.

CW: Spanking (once), breeding, talking of body insecurity, Scott being sweet for once?, Claire talks too much

"That's it, baby. Nice and slow. I want to see you shaking from how bad you want my cock." Scott was reclined against his stack of pillows, one arm obnoxiously tucked behind his head while the other hand rubbed soft circles into your thigh.

"Scott... Please just fuck me." Your voice was soft, unable to hold his hungry gaze as he took in your form straddling his thick thighs. You felt too exposed, even with your hands resting on his chest allowing you to obscure some of his view of your body.

Shaking his head, he took the hand under his head and used it to caress your hip. "You're not getting out of this that easily. I wanna see you fall apart on my cock before I even think about having you under me." Seeing the uncertain look in your eyes, he threaded his fingers through yours as a soft, reassuring smile touched his lips. "You can do it, beautiful."

"Scott," you whined, "please." You shifted uncomfortably on him, thoughts running through your head a thousand miles a minute. Thoughts of your face from his point of view, the look of your body, and the feel of your weight on his hips and chest. Would he be turned off by it? Would it feel good for him? Not for the first time, you worried about Scott seeing the flaws you saw in yourself and realizing what he has gotten himself into.

You're jostled from your thoughts by Scott readjusting himself to sit up to your level, the concern on his face indicating he'd recognized the look of overthinking on your face. He always teased that he knew you better than you knew yourself and in moments like these you believed him.

"Talk to me. What's wrong?" He bumped his forehead against yours, giving you no option but to look into his eyes while his strong arms held you close.

"I just..." You trailed off, considering playing it cool before you saw him raise an unimpressed eyebrow, already a step ahead of you. "It feels good, right? I'm not too heavy or anything?"

A large hand snakes its way to cup your jaw, making you instinctively lean into his warmth. You always loved it when he used his hands on you, seeing them flex as he held and touched you, and the warmth they provided.

"You always feel amazing, baby. I could spend the rest of my life with you on top of me, letting me see that beautiful body of yours, and I'd feel completely at peace." He whispered these words like a sacred promise, his thumb dragging on your bottom lip as he softly angled his head even closer to yours. "I am so fucking in love with all of you."

Your entire body heated at his words, your hands grabbing at his face to join his mouth with yours. His tongue licked into your mouth, stealing your sighs as one hand slipped around your back while the other trailed down your jaw to land at your throat.

"Now," he said, breaking the kiss, "ride my cock like a good girl." He leaned back as his hands encircled your hips, his hair falling into his lust-filled eyes.

"Yes, sir," you mocked, leaning forward to brush his hair back into place as you pressed one last kiss to his lips. Your hips lifted on his cock before you sat back, drawing a heavenly moan from his lips, the sound mixing with his words and touch to spur confidence into you.

His grip was bruising as you rode him, profanities mixing with praises as you bounced on his cock. You knew you'd wake up with marks tomorrow, Scott's fingers brushing over them with a satisfied sigh as you two dressed for the day. 

"You feel so fucking good, baby." He breathed, thumb brushing over your clit. Your pussy clenched in response, a strangled sound escaping Scott's mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure. "Come on, beautiful. Come for me, I wanna feel you fucking leaking down my cock, you can do it."

You didn't even have time to react before your orgasm washed over you, making you cry out his name and clench around him. He shot up to a half-sitting position, catching you as you collapsed on his shoulder. "Fuck, good girl. You're so fucking good for me."

With his hand behind him providing more leverage, Scott started thrusting into you, fucking himself even deeper into you than he already was. All pretenses were dropped as he desperately chased after his orgasm, his other hand gripping your ass as he pulled you down to keep as much of him inside of you as he could.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you feel so fucking good. So fucking tight, I can't wait to fill you." He mouthed at your neck, your fingers grabbing onto the hairs at the base of his neck as he sucked a mark onto a sweet spot. Praises fell freely from his mouth now, his grip on your ass tightening before crescendoing into a firm smack. "Gonna fill you and get you fucking pregnant."

His words drew out a sound that didn't even sound human, making you clench around him once again as a second orgasm rocketed up to settle as a tight ball in your stomach. You could hear his smirk as he continued: "You want that? Want me to pump you full of cum until you can't take anymore? You'd take more though, if I told you because you're so fucking good for me." You weren't even in control of your own body at this point, hips desperately meeting his thrusts. "God, I'd fucking love to see your body while you're pregnant. Nice and full of me, wearing little loose dresses around the house so I can fill you over and over again. Fuck I'll keep you nice and bred every day."

His words rip a second orgasm from  you, your body spasming as you kiss him again, all teeth and tongue through the rush of passion. More filthy words continued to escape against your lips, Scott losing coherency in the throes of his building orgasm. He fully straightens up, both hands grasping your hips to push you down onto him as his cock twitched and filled you. Deep grunts filled the air as he continued minuscule thrusts, the aftershocks of his orgasms continuing to go through him. As he came down, he mouthed at your jaw, dropping down your neck and chest before finalizing with a soft kiss in the valley of your breasts.

Satisfied, he leaned back against the pillows, more strewed on the bed than before. You moved to lay beside him, causing a discontent sound to come from his throat as he pulled you back down onto his slowly softening cock. "It's not going to stick if you get up right away. Gotta make sure it works." He spoke like he couldn't believe you'd think of getting off.

"How stupid of me." You rolled your eyes, taking in how good he looked with a sheen of sweat glistening off his skin and curling his hair.

He smirked knowingly at you, seeing you take in his appearance. But his words didn’t match the arrogant expression, instead reflecting only the soft look in his eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too. You're going soft, Miller." You taunted, reaching out once again to brush a hair off his face when he caught your wrist.

"Only for you," he conceded, pressing a soft kiss to your pulse point and pulling you to lay on his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

[cheesus-doodles]

How does Ran view Rindo’s best friend reader? And what’s his opinion on their relationship? I really like your work on Rindo and reader!

thank you for your kind words anon!

Masterlist | Rindo Tags

ㅤ‎

Ran thinks that the two of you together are adorable.

Yes sure, he knows damn well that both the both of them are delinquents who ruthlessly rule the back alleys of Roppongi with an iron fist, and that they are indeed supposed to be feared. But how was he supposed to think any other way when he sees Rindo with you?

Even though you clearly are the more easygoing and naive of your little pair with a tendency to go along with whatever it was that Rindo wanted, in Ran's eyes, its still his younger brother who comes off as the lost puppy trailing you looking for affection and attention, happy to let you lead him around by the nose. Yes, both of the Haitanis have both been in and out of juvie for various reasons, and Ran is perfectly aware of how Rindo is actually like during fights, having no qualm with breaking bones and putting faces through cement. Yet Ran still finds it hard to find any good reason to fear Rindo whenever you are arm-in-arm with him, chattering away with a complete lack of awareness to your surroundings. Ran, in fact, finds it rather amusing to occasionally poke his younger brother by linking arms with you just to get a reaction out of him and see him growl and threaten.

There was no way that Ran could possibly hate you, not with what you had done for Rindo. As the older of the two (not by much but still), Ran takes it upon himself to learn about and keep an eye out for Rindo, even if the younger Haitani dislikes his older brother's intrusions into his life.

And from what Ran can tell, Rindo has only changed for the better - as much as a delinquent can, at least. He knew that the day you picked Rindo over him was the day that something within Rindo had sparked (or snapped), and the younger Haitani had never let go of you since then, which you didn't seem to mind. Good thing either way, since with you came a sense of responsibility for Rindo that he never had, and Ran do so appreciate Rindo caring about something outside of picking fights for a change. Maybe you could get him to care about bills as well soon.

You did bring a breath of fresh air into both their lives, which the older of the brothers appreciates. With you came normal afternoons, calm evenings, and even peaceful nights; being a regular civilian with no ties to the gang life, you usually were the one to drag the two Haitani brothers around to your favourite cafes or the newest shops. Normal activities. Of course, the the only caveat to peace and normality being that you were within arm's length of Rindo, but that was easy enough to achieve.

‎

Ran does however wish from time to time that you were the slightest bit more self aware and less air-headed. The amount of stress you cause his younger brother on a day-to-day basis simply can't be healthy, but more importantly, it affects Ran as well. Don't get him wrong, this older delinquent was content to watch his younger brother run around like a headless chicken from time to time, but when it spills over into his life and causes Ran to lose his precious sleep is where he draws the line. Maybe with a few more brain cells, you would be able to learn which action would result in a explosive reaction from your best friend, but it has already been years and Ran isn't hopeful.

Rindo always anxiously checking in on you whenever he could as if you would vanish off the face of the earth the moment he wasn't looking (being lured into a van and kidnapped with candy was what Rindo swears would be enough to work on you, and Ran didn't doubt as much). And when he couldn't, Ran would have the chance to be amused by his younger brother compulsively opening and closing his phone every second just to make sure he wasn't missing any messages that you were sending him, before giving in after five minutes and simply calling you. This would quickly turn into a full blown cursing and swearing session when you fail to pick up within half a minute, followed by a panicked Rindo dropping everything to take off and hunt you down.

This usually happens during school time, when the younger of the Haitanis reluctantly let you attend class, only to storm your classroom later on, though meltdowns also tend to happen at night when you aren't sleeping over at their place. And the latter is when Ran gets awoken by all the scrambling, sometimes getting dragged up as well to look for you when Rindo happens to barge into your room on the rare occasion you wandered out for a midnight snack.

Despite Ran knowing that whatever Rindo has going on with you isn't quite normal, with Rindo being a tad too obsessed with knowing where you were and what you were doing at all times, the older delinquent doesn't care. As long as his younger brother was happy, Ran was content with playing along. And alas, until Ran can knock some common sense into that empty head of yours, he'll settle for tying you to a chair and hauling your ass back to Rindo.

Ah the woes of being an older brother.

[seeingivy]

so high school

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my gojo as taylor songs series

an: so sorry to the dream girl fans, had to expedite this one. taylor as gojo anon its your lucky day.

--

you were always under the impression that people like satoru gojo were perfect. 

flawless even. 

at times, you were even inclined to think that it was unfair; that some people were born with perfect looks, charming personalities, with intellect and intelligence to match. that they didn’t have to struggle. 

though it seems at the current moment, you stood corrected. because the so-called rumors that you had heard about satoru – that he always participated in class, that the teachers loved him – they might have still stood true, but the underlying implication that was always insinuated, that he was naturally intelligent, wasn't. 

it slightly cracked a sheen into the persona. you wondered if the girls in your english literature class would still giggle about him the way they did under their breaths if they knew. though knowing them, they probably would find some way to make his ineptness endearing. 

“this is the quadratic formula. did you understand this one when we went over it in class?” you ask. 

“yes.” satoru responds, seething. 

“okay, so if that’s the case, can you solve this problem for me?” you ask. 

you slide the paper over to satoru, eyes hopeful, as you watch a blank expression spread over his face.  it’s something that he does often, or at least in this setting from what you can tell of the total of two hours that have passed. 

the entire session seems to be a lot of talking into the air – with him opting to listen to you explain the question rather than try it on his own or admit where exactly it is that he needs help. 

you’re not surprised that he has an ego about getting forced to do remedial tutoring. 

“you know, listening to explain it over and over again won’t really help. you have to be able to struggle your way through the question on your own.” you respond. 

satoru gives you a shrug, before taking the paper into his own hands. 

“this is bullshit. and i get that i have to like know this shit because like…societies and shit before me knew it all but i don’t really understand the point. coach is just making me do this bullshit to keep me from playing more. 

you pinch your lips into a line. the algebra teacher and basketball coach, masamichi yagi, had, in confidence, told you the exact opposite. that satoru was bright and talented – on the road to where he wanted to go – but his grades were going to hold him back if he didn’t try harder. 

you can still hear his words in your head. 

he can be tough to work with when he’s frustrated, but just try to get through to him. he’s smart enough to do this. 

“i mean, the past societies and stuff learned it and emphasize passing it on because it’s actually really relevant to what you’re doing right now.” you respond. 

“yeah, maybe for nerd shit that you do, but it’s not really relevant to where i want to go.” satoru responds. 

you roll your eyes. he didn’t have to be irritating about it. 

“and where’s that?” you ask. 

and in a split second, you see satoru smile for the first time, this close. you weren’t a stranger to him at all – almost no one was with the way the basketball team's pictures were plastered all over the school in the yearbook – but you had never sat so close to him before, at least not in years. 

he a dimple on the right side and three freckles on the left. 

“i’m going to be a starting point guard on an nba basketball team.” satoru whispers. 

“you want to go pro?” you ask. 

“hell yeah. it’s all i’ve ever wanted since i was a kid.” 

you smile. you had heard it before – that he was electric on the court – but you didn’t realize that it was serious enough to pursue a basketball career. 

“i hate to break it to you, but the quadratic formula will be really useful to you in the future.” you respond. 

satoru scoffs. you take the board from him, drawing out the trajectory of the line, as he explains. 

“the reason that you use the quadratic formula is to find the solution of the equation. it can actually tell you more than you think – about where something needs to be in space, how fast it needs to move. if you’re standing all the way at the end of the basketball court, as far away from the net as possible, you’re not going to shoot right?” you ask. 

“obviously not.” satoru responds, sarcastically. 

“and you’re not going to try from right underneath the net?” 

“not if i want to get my ass beat by coach.” 

“so you know that you have to find the right spot to try from because it’ll give you your best possible shot at getting it into the basket. that’s how the equation works – figuring out the best possible spot to where your solution works.” 

satoru rolls his eyes at you. 

“so?” 

“so. you should think about it like that. don’t make it so abstract because it’s honestly way too boring to try to do it that way. finding applications will help you get through how difficult it is. if you want to get scouted for division one basketball, you have to have good grades.” 

satoru clicks his tongue in his cheek. 

“do you want me to do the quadratic formula in my head every time i make a shot?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“obviously not. but you have to admit that something like that would be helpful. and it is helpful, for people who do engineering, fly planes, all of that type of stuff. the application will just make it more interesting or relevant for you.” you respond. 

“how do you get through it?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

“your application or whatever. to make you do it without getting bored.” 

you can feel your cheeks burn. 

“i actually don’t have one. i was just making that up.” 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“you gave me a whole inspirational lecture with shit you pulled out of your ass?” satoru asks, eyes incredulous. 

you note that there’s a whisper of a smile on his face. 

“part of the job is motivating students! and i don’t have one because what i want to do actually does have no application to this..” you respond. 

satoru nods, before leaning forward on the desk, his cheek in the palm of his hand as he smiles.

“so what do you want to do?” he asks. 

“what?” 

“in the future. i’d love to hear whatever it is that doesn’t have a real life application to math, so i can use it as a backup plan if this whole basketball thing doesn’t work out.” 

you glare at him. 

“this is a tutoring session, not social hour.” 

“oh come on. you’re no fun. i promise i’ll actually try if you tell me.” satoru responds. 

you debate lying. 

you debate lying because you know this is how he is, because you’ve seen him do this since the second he had his growth spurt in the sixth grade. tell different girls that they’re pretty, flatter them by asking them personal questions, and flirt like it was the air he breathed. 

and it makes you mad – only because you were that girl in seventh grade. giggling to yourself about how he said your braids were pretty, asking about if you were going to the dance, and everything in between. 

the only reason that the girls who whispered about him in your english literature class annoy you is because they remind you of yourself. though that stopped dead in his tracks when you realized that it was something that he did with everyone. 

satoru’s eyes are expectant, waiting for an answer, and you convince yourself later that night that it’s why you gave in and told him what you’ve never told anyone before. not because he really was attractive and charming – but only because he told you his first.

“scout’s honor you won’t tell?” you ask. 

satoru signals with the little cross over his heart, before giving you a nod. 

“i want to be a singer.” you respond. 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“you’d be great for that!” 

“what?” 

“oh, come on. you’ve been the lead of every musical since like freshman year. and i remember that song you wrote about cheerleaders or whatever in sixth grade, it was really good.”

you widen your eyes. 

“you remember that?” you ask. 

“what was it called? i just remember it was like cheer captain and bleachers or something like that. mei mei got really mad at the time because she thought you were talking about her.” 

you laugh. 

“it was called you belong with me. there was a lyric in it, she’s cheer captain and i’m on the bleachers. and she was right to be mad, because it was about her. i can’t even believe you remember that.” you respond. 

satoru smirks. 

“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool. i like to think we’re friends – that’s why i picked you to be my tutor.” satoru responds. 

you didn’t know that part. you had figured that yaga had just reached out to you because you were one of the top students in the class.  

“i don’t know. i didn’t realize you remembered all that! i kind of thought you didn’t even know my name.” you respond. 

satoru smiles. 

“your name is y/n. you used to wear pigtail braids in first grade with ribbons in them. you’re really smart and you always have been. you went to the dance in seventh grade with that robotics nerd nanami kento. and one time you picked me for heads up seven up in fourth grade.” satoru responds. 

you feel your cheeks warm up. 

at the heat of your infatuation with satoru, you had made your move in the only way that you knew how – by picking him in heads up seven up. 

once in a while, you would get to play the game in class – when it was someone's birthday or you were waiting for an assembly to start. the teacher would pick seven students and the rest would put their heads down at their desks, with their thumbs up. the people who were selected got to pick anyone they wanted in the room and tap on their head. if the people who were tapped were able to guess who picked them correctly, they got to switch in. 

you picked satoru. and he guessed correctly. 

“kind of had a big fat crush on you after that, if i’m not going to lie.” satoru jokes. 

“what? over the heads up seven up?” 

satoru nods. 

“you picked me out of a room of forty people. i was ready to propose marriage.” satoru jokes. 

you snort. 

“don’t say that. i totally would have said yes. i obviously picked you for a reason.” 

satoru looks up at you, eyes wide in something you can’t really place, before he grins at you brightly. 

“you bitch! we could have been childhood sweethearts at this point if you weren’t such a chicken.” 

“me? you should have made a move. the ball was in your court after i tapped on you in heads up seven up.” 

satoru sighs. 

“oh ten year old satoru. dropping the ball as always.” 

you roll your eyes, before sliding the worksheet back over to him. satoru groans, before sneaking the paper closer to him, and scratching his head as he looks at the paper. you lean over the tiniest bit of the desk, trying to make a mess of his scribbling, and making sure he’s on the right path. 

“why’d you pick that one as c?” you ask. 

“was i not supposed to?”

“i mean, no. i just wanted to figure out why so you don’t do it next time.” 

it goes like that for the rest of the hour. he tends to make silly mistakes or get hopelessly lost in the middle, but answers one question correctly by the end of the session – which he takes as a win. 

he says one thing that sticks in your mind before he leaves, with the same expectant eyes waiting for an answer as he hangs off of the door frame. 

“y/n?” 

“yeah?”

“when you become a big famous singer, will you invite me to your first show?” satoru asks. 

you smile, before looking down at your hands and twisting the silver rings on your fingers. 

“if that happens, sure. only if you invite me to the first game where you get to start.” you respond. 

satoru grins brightly, his eyes crinkling in the smile.  

“i'm betting on it. you and me.” 

--

three months into tutoring – and a few ice cream cones and movies here and there – satoru invites you to go to a party with him.

“you know, i’m not really into the party scene, satoru.” you respond. 

“but you’re into me, because i’m the love of your life, so you should come anyways.” 

satoru does that often. flirt, make jokes about how the two of you are meant to be, and everything in between. troy and gabriella because you’re a brainiac and he’s an athlete. the best love story, since you’ve liked each other from the start. 

but you know that he’s joking, because he does that with everyone. it doesn’t mean that it isn’t nice to pretend that it’s true sometimes. 

“look, mei mei has a bunch of drinks that her dad bought for the party, so you should just come and let loose.” 

you widen your eyes. 

“you know mei mei hates me right?” 

“it’s okay, being around her will give you more material to write for your songs. then you can sing it on your sold out world tour.” satoru jokes. 

he also does that often. talk about your dream like it’s most certainly going to come true. talk about how he’s going to be front row, how you’re going to be the half-time show for his championship games, and how fans will adore your love story and humble backgrounds in tutoring. 

“come on. i’ll pick you up at six, okay?” 

at six pm, satoru honks the horn of his shitty honda civic for six minutes before you oblige and give in. and the party goes well – with satoru sticking by your side, introducing you to his best friend suguru, and making you do shots with cheap tequila. 

it goes well until they start playing a mixed version of truth or dare and spin the bottle. you have two options when the bottle lands on you – kissing the person who span it or getting a truth or dare from them. 

it’s not your idea of fun. because while you would have easily opted for just being asked truthful questions all night, you realize that the stuff that they ask and insinuate is no joke. 

and after an hour, satoru kisses suguru – much to suguru’s dismay – and shoko gets dared to prank call her ex-girlfriend, utahime, which goes insanely horrible. it felt like intruding to listen to the two of them argue so openly on the phone. 

when mei mei spins the bottle, it lands on you. 

“please don’t try to kiss me.” 

you pinch your lips in a line. 

“i wasn’t planning on it. i’ll do truth.” 

she breaths a dramatic sigh of relief. you shoot satoru a smile, who shakes it off as plain joking, before you swallow hard. 

“fuck, marry, kill. satoru, suguru, and choso.” 

you feel your eyes widen. 

“was the game not kiss, marry, kill?” you respond. 

“if we’re in the sixth grade.” mei mei responds.

you fidget with your fingers in your lap, all three of them expectantly looking at you, as you feel your voice shake. 

“um. marry satoru. and then i guess…i’ll kill choso? and you know the last one.” you respond. 

“and i thought we were friends.” choso responds, voice dripping with sarcasm as the group of them snicker. 

“we can go do that right now, that’s not a problem. should we switch the game to seven minutes in heaven?” suguru responds, snickering over his shoulder with shoko who doesn’t entertain one second of his nonsense. 

satoru is the only one who doesn’t say anything. and they move on just as fast, spinning the bottle over and over again, while you overthink what just happened – how awkward you were being, how satoru slightly shifted away from you on the hard carpet, and how you very desperately want to go home. 

when you spin the bottle, you hope to god it doesn’t land on him. but it’s just your luck, because it points directly at suguru, who is now very smugly seated next to satoru. 

“are you going to kiss me?” suguru asks. 

you know that he’s joking. you know deep down that this is just something that makes them laugh, that deep down, you wouldn’t really have to if you didn’t want to, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to be cornered like this. 

“no.” you respond. 

suguru feigns hurt. 

“why not?”

you look down at your hands. 

“i’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

“i can fix that.” suguru responds. 

you shake your head. and in the split second that passes, you can feel satoru’s hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you down the stairs and out the door, and leading you down the street to where he parked his car. 

he’s quiet as he rummages in his pockets for his key, angrily yanking on the door, as you stand on the pavement. 

“come on. we’re going home.” he responds, leaning his hands on the open door as he gestures for you to move to the passengers side. 

you shake your head, feeling hot burning tears in your eyes, as you look at him. 

“are you mad at me or something?” you ask. 

“what?” 

“i don’t know! i didn’t know what to say when mei mei asked me that. i don’t ever want to offend you or hurt your feelings or anything. and i wasn’t going to kiss your friend, you didn’t have to drag me out of there like that because i wasn’t even going to consider it.” 

satoru sighs, leaning his cheek against the window, as he gives you a halfhearted smile. 

“i’m not mad at you. or what you said.” 

“okay, because i thought that was the best option! marry is objectively the option you save for the best person in the options because that’s the person you have to kiss too. like when you marry someone you obviously have to kiss them and you’re not going to kill them, so you save it for the best.” you respond, rambling. 

satoru grins. 

“you think i’m the best option?” 

you groan. 

“shut up. i don’t even know choso. and suguru is…suguru. no.” 

satoru smiles, walking away from the open door, before reaching for your wrists and squeezing hard. 

“i’m not mad at you. i just got…annoyed back there for a second.” satoru murmurs. 

“at?” 

satoru tries to stifle his sigh. 

“i didn’t want suguru to kiss you.” satoru responds. 

“that makes two of us, genius.” you respond, earning you a laugh from him. 

“i wanted it to land on me. i know it’s just a game, but really. i wanted it to be me.” satoru murmurs. 

you laugh. 

“okay, satoru. truth or dare. i can give you one right now.” you respond, giving him a peachy smile as you wait for him to respond. 

but he doesn’t. because all you see in the dim lamplight of the street is satoru, frowning at you. his eyes are expectant, but not waiting for an answer this time – but for you to understand what he was trying to say. 

that he wanted you to kiss him. 

it takes you five seconds. five seconds of bright blue eyes to get it. 

“oh.” you respond. 

you pause. 

“really?” you whisper. 

satoru shrugs. almost like he’s embarrassed. 

you lift your hands, gesturing for him to wait right there, as you duck into the car from the door that he opened, and reach over the seats for the water bottle that you left in there a few days ago. 

“fuck, ow.” you whisper. 

“are you okay?” satoru asks, leaning closer to peek his head through the door. 

“yeah. yeah. just looking for something.” 

you find it underneath the seat – a wrinkled mess of plastic from the heat and three sips of lukewarm water left. you push out of the car, holding up the little bottle in between the two of you, to which satoru gives you a confused look. 

“i wouldn’t drink that.” satoru responds. 

you shake your head, before crouching to the ground, and placing the bottle on the ground. you gesture for satoru to join you, the two of you hunching over with your heads pressed together. and you reach forward and spin the bottle, only for it to point towards the car. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you murmur. 

you readjust the bottle, manually pointing it towards satoru, as you look back up at him and give him a smile. 

“i don’t get it.” satoru responds. 

“it landed on you.” you respond. 

you watch satoru’s throat bob. 

“what?” he whispers. 

“i spun. it landed on you.” you respond. 

you swear he’s blushing in the moonlight. 

“y/n.”

“are you going to kiss me, satoru?” you whisper. 

it’s a split second before satoru reaches forward, pulling you up by the wrists, and yanking you into the backseat of his car to do just that. you can taste the remnants of the cheap tequila on his lips, the feeling warm in your chest as he smiles – no, laughs – into the kiss. 

in the seconds that pass, you lean your forehead against satoru’s, the two of you lightly panting as you catch your breaths – his hands warm on your waist and yours underneath his biceps. 

“did you really pick me out of everyone to be your math tutor?” you whisper. 

satoru laughs. 

“i knew what i wanted. and i got her.” satoru whispers. 

you get signed on to a record label a year later, two months before you graduate high school. it breaks your heart to leave him behind when the fall comes around. 

--

four years later 

“did the tour bus get stalled?” you ask. 

yuki looks up from her clipboard, switching off the little knob on her earpiece, as she takes the open seat next to you. 

“yeah. they’ve got it stuck inside the fencing outside the stadium, they’re just trying to push it through now.” yuki responds. 

“can’t we just walk out to the car?” you ask. 

yuki shakes her head again. 

“fans go out the same way. if you want to avoid getting mobbed on the way out here, it’s best to wait.” yuki responds. 

“if we have to wait, i’m just going to go lie down in the dressing room. come get me when it’s here?” you ask. 

yuki gives you a nod as you walk off to the other side of the stadium, the heels of your feet aching from the high stiletto boots you were wearing breaking halfway through the performance, as you shake through the messy tresses of your hair. 

“it was so nice to meet you, man. you said she was over this way?” 

you feel your eyes widen as you turn your head to the left – to the voice that you can recognize anywhere – and feel a dry patch in your throat. at the sight of satoru, an obscenely tall version of satoru, standing three feet away from you, talking to one of the members of your crew. 

you watch as satoru gives a polite smile and walks down the way towards your dressing room, already six whole paces in front of you from how long his legs are now, as you follow behind him, wiping away the darkness of smudged makeup under your eyes and brushing down the beads of your dress. 

it can’t be him, can it? you desperately wished there was something else to wear besides the bedazzled bodysuit you were wearing currently. 

you watch as satoru knocks on your door, expectantly waiting for a response at the door, as he wipes his hands against the sides of his pants. and you walk up right behind him, nervously clearing your throat, as he turns around and gives you a wide smile. 

“ah. right, hi! i was just looking for you. my name is…” 

“satoru.” you finish. 

there was no way he thought you actually forgot him, did he? 

satoru unclenches his shoulders, an immediate pang of relief spreading through his face, as he gives you a smile – a dimple on the right and three freckles on the left – as you feel a pang of hurt in your chest. 

he looks good. he looks even better than you left him, his striking white hair longer than it was before and the smallest amount of wrinkles around his eyes. 

“you remember.” satoru responds. 

you bite on the inside of your cheek, to stop yourself from smiling at him fully. 

“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool.” you respond. 

satoru rolls his eyes at the words – the same ones he said years prior – as he crosses his hands over his chest. and you can’t help but contain your excitement and lean forward, a gesture he returns as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeeze hard. 

“satoru, oh my fucking god. you should have told me you were coming.” you respond, leaning back as he reaches up to cup the side of your cheek and smile down at you. 

“how could i?” he asks. 

“you could text me. i have a phone.” you joke. 

satoru gives you a smile. 

“you know, when you change your number, that means i can’t text you.” 

you groan, smacking your palm against your forehead. 

“shit. i totally forgot. i was just so stressed out at the time because…” 

“because someone leaked your phone number and people were calling you at every hour of the day. i know.” 

you feel your chest pang, mainly at the fact that satoru was here – that he thought you forgot him and, in earnest, you really had forgotten him. that he was keeping tabs, that he knew everything that you were up to in the years since you separated – from your phone number getting leaked to the fact that you were performing tonight – and you couldn’t say the same. 

you frown. 

“right. i’m sorry, i meant to give it to you, i just…” 

“were going through a lot at the time. first world tour, six grammy nominations, and some friends who weren’t the greatest, i gathered.” 

you sigh. 

“you don’t know the half of it.” you respond. 

satoru shakes his head. 

“i mean, i do. but i’d love to hear it from you, if…if you ever wanted to tell me?” satoru asks. 

he has that same look in his eyes. timid, expectant eyes, shy and waiting for an answer. 

“of course i would want to tell you.” you whisper. 

satoru smiles. 

“good. i’d love to hear it.” satoru responds. 

it doesn’t feel real. it doesn’t feel real that four year ago satoru kissed you in the moonlight on a horribly paved street, that you had to leave him behind on that same cobblestone four years ago, and now he’s standing in front of you – the two of you the same as before, satoru the same, maybe even better, than the way you left him. 

“what are you doing here, satoru?” you ask. 

he smiles, before reaching into his pocket, and pulling out two little pieces of paper. he hands them over to you, as you read the fine print. 

July 19th 

San Francisco Golden State Warriors versus Los Angeles Lakers 

“i’m the starting point guard for an nba basketball team. i promised you an invite to my first game.” he murmurs. 

you press the tickets close to your chest, as you give him a nod. 

“y/n. the tour bus is here!” yuki screams at the end of the hall, frantic hands waving you over, as you turn back to satoru with a pinched look. 

he smiles in response. 

“don’t worry. i’ll see you in a week.” he responds. 

--

the week that follows is agonizing. 

you scavenge every corner of the internet to find out everything about him known to the public. where he lives, what he’s been up to, what team he plays for. 

he’s the starting point guard for the lakers, his hometown team for where he’s lived for the past four years. it seems that he had made his escape from the suburbs around the same time that you had, by playing division one basketball at the university of southern california, before getting a straight bid into the nba. 

he’s the youngest starting point guard in history. he’s broken his own all time record multiple times and was one of the youngest people to get signed on with the league. 

he likes to cook. suguru made his way onto the team with him. the two of them are a dynamic duo – famous for their hilarious interviews. he’s a father. he adopted two kids that lived in his neighborhood after their dad tragically passed away – megumi and tsumiki. 

and most of all, he’s the same as you left him. because in every interview you watch, you hear the same thing. 

“satoru, which artist is on your pregame playlist?” 

“if you could go to any concert, which would it be?” 

“who do you dream to collaborate with in the future?” 

it’s the same answer every time. 

y/n l/n, of course. 

you can hear his voice in your head already. 

i knew what i wanted. and i got her. 

--

the stadium is an overstimulating amount of loud – something exacerbated by how nervous you are – as you walk down the steps to the court, stomach erupting into a nervous mess of butterflies. 

satoru gifted you courtside seats to the opening game. and if he was going to follow suit like he always did, his kids would be sitting right next to you, dead center to watch him play. 

you catch sight of his white tufts of hair at the center of the court, fans in the stands excitedly pointing at him practicing free throws with his teammates, and snapping pictures. you see a group of girls in his jersey giggling at the side, zooming in to take photos and loudly talking about how hot he looked when he pushed his hair back with a headband during the game. 

girls on twitter loved the headband. it seemed that among most things, one thing never changed – how much people adored satoru. 

as you get closer to the lights, you can tell that people notice your attendance, hushed whispers and pointed fingers at you as you make your way down to the waxed court, your shoes clicking on the wood, as you walk over to your seat. 

you hope satoru doesn’t think it’s too forward that you decided to wear his jersey – with his last name spelled out on the back – as you take a seat. 

you wipe your sweaty hands on the pleats of your white tennis skirt, fiddling with the beaded bracelet on your hands, as one of satoru’s teammates eyes widen at the sight of you, before they all but run over to smack him across the shoulder. 

satoru looks over at you, giving you a soft smile, as he drops the ball and starts making strides over to where you’re sitting. you can feel your cheeks burning as you stand up, waiting for him to fully approach and he does the same thing he used to – wrapping his hands around your wrists as he leans forward, the smallest sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“i’d hug you, but i’m a little gross right now, brainiac.” he murmurs. 

you shake your head. 

“no problem. these are nice seats.” 

he smiles. 

“i’d let you bring a friend, but i had to save –” 

“the other two tickets for your kids. megumi and tsumiki. they’re your neighbor's kids, who you adopted after their dad passed away.” you finish. 

satoru widens his eyes, before poking his tongue in the side of his cheek, and giving you a grin. 

“did your research, did you?” 

you shrug. 

“i did. but i’d love to hear about it, if you’ll tell me...” you respond. 

satoru laughs. 

“tsumiki is a really big fan. megumi doesn’t believe me when i said that you and i used to date, but he doesn’t believe anything i say anyways. they’re my favorite people in the world. and i love to make dad jokes.” satoru responds. 

you smile. of course he does. 

“i’m excited to meet them. i’ll give tsumiki a whole personal concert. signed cds or vinyls, whatever you want.” you state. 

“i’d withhold that for now. i think she’s going to have a heart attack from excitement all at once when she realizes daddy is dating her idol.” 

you feel like you’re in high school. you feel like it’s thursday after lunch and satoru’s walking you to class, making jokes about how the two of you are going to end up together. saying you’re troy and gabriella, about how no one will understand each other like you, about how you’re going to be at the halftime show performance at his championship game. 

“one last thing.” satoru states. 

“what’s that?” 

he reaches into the pocket of his shorts, procuring a set of blue earplugs and placing them in the palm of your hand. 

“i remember you hate how loud it can get. and this is going to be ten times worse than our shitty school gym, so wear these.” satoru states. 

you can’t help but frown at the thoughtfulness, looking back up at the bright smile he’s giving you, before squeezing his hand. satoru leans forward and pinches the softness of your cheek, before running back to the center of the court and practicing with the team. 

you can tell that some of them are jeering at him – giggling behind him as he shoots from different parts of the court, and you memorize the permanent smile that seems to be etched on to his face. suguru gives you a wave, before blowing you a kiss, which earns him a hard shove from satoru on the court. 

--

two months later, the two of you follow the same routine. satoru travels around the country for his games. you do the same for your tours – and whenever the cities overlap, which coincidentally every week they almost do – the two of you get dinner, eat breakfast. he insists on sleeping on his couch so you can take his bed, but you convince him to stay and just share.  

satoru says the overlap is fate. you tell him that he’s ridiculous. he says that it has to be fate – that you have to be meant to be, because you get back into it just as quickly as the two of you fell into it. 

satoru tells you that he’s proud of you. your fans post videos of him at your shows – bright smiles on his face as he sings along to all of the words of your songs. you decide to surprise him at the third show he comes to, by singing his favorite song – you belong with me. you both joke about how mei mei is pissed wherever she is. 

you tell satoru that you’re proud of him too. you watch every game courtside and really, are just in awe of him as you are when you were seventeen, blue paint splattered on your cheeks as you cheer him on – the muffled sounds of the crowd in your ears. you always carry three pairs of ear plugs, the extra two for megumi and tsumiki. 

you think you love him. you think you always will. you realize that no one was ever going to have your heart like he did. 

satoru has a home game in los angeles in late august. and his manager invites you to the afterparty two minutes away from the stadium, your transportation arranged with megumi and tsumiki. 

you think they’re adorable. you think satoru is the best dad. 

at a whopping seven years old, tsumiki reminds you of satoru. full of energy and light, she talks a hundred words per minute. the second you walk into the afterparty, you watch as she beelines to the big group of people, suguru quickly picking her up as she starts chattering loudly. 

megumi’s the opposite. a little shy for his age, you swear that he squeezes your hand harder as you stand at the doorway of the crowded room. and true to satoru’s words – he really didn’t believe that you and satoru used to be friends, let alone date, but states that it must be because satoru did some black magic on you. 

he makes jokes like that all the time. 

“you okay?” you ask. 

“yeah. have you seen my dad?” he asks. 

you frown. 

“no.” 

megumi gives you a halfhearted sigh. 

“okay.” 

megumi gets nervous. the only people he feels comfortable around are satoru and tsumiki. 

“you know, your dad never changes. he used to do this to me all the time too.” you state. 

“do what?” 

“drag me to parties. it’s not really my scene.” 

megumi smiles. 

“really?” 

you nod. 

“i wouldn’t even know most of the people there. one time he took me to the birthday party of a girl who literally hated me.” 

megumi laughs. 

“of course he did. some romantic he makes himself out to be. but really, i don’t care. i just hate waiting for tsumiki to come back.” megumi states. 

you smile in response. 

“well, how about we wait in the kitchen? there’ll be less people there.” 

you tug megumi along to the kitchen, quickly lifting him to sit on the counter, as you rummage through the fridge – trying to catch your breath from whatever alternate universe you’re living in. 

you’re in satoru’s house, with all of his friends. his kids seem to like you. he scored the most points out of the game, including the winning shot with six seconds left on the scoreboard. you have no idea where he is or what you’re doing right now or – 

“hi.” 

you slam the door shut, only to find suguru getou towering over you, with a smile on his face. 

“hi.” you respond, reaching up to tuck the hair behind your ears as you take a step back. 

“it’s been a long time, girl scout.” 

you try to stifle your sigh. 

“sure has been.” you respond. 

“satoru’s really keen on hiding you away.” 

you awkwardly nod, twisting the silver rings on your hands, as you give him a smile. 

“we’re just getting to know each other, that's all.” you respond. 

suguru widens his eyes. 

“what is there to find out? you’ve known each other since you were toddlers.” suguru responds. 

you shrug. 

“i don’t know. a lot of time has passed.” you murmur. 

suguru pinches his eyes shut, in frustration. 

“you’d think that would make the two of you more eager.” he responds. 

“what do you mean?” 

“if it were me, if i felt the way the two of you obviously do, then i’d get a move on. i’d be unable to contain it.” 

you glare. 

“you don’t know how we feel. and there’s a lot on the line here.” 

suguru crosses his arms over his chest. 

“do you like him?” suguru asks. 

“what?” 

“because he loves you. basketball has always been his dream, but even more so when he realized that it would be a reason to talk to you again. he’s listened to all of your albums the second they came out, seen you perform every time you came around these parts, and cursed the hell out of every movie star asshole who has talked shit about you publicly or hurt your feelings.” suguru responds. 

you sigh. 

“i’ll ask you again. do you like him? because he. loves. you. you make him so nervous that he won’t make the first move, just like he wouldn’t when you were sixteen.” 

“of course i do. i –” 

“do i need to threaten to kiss you again?” suguru asks. 

it’s right at that second that satoru parades into the kitchen and you can tell from the way that he yanks suguru back by the year that he only heard the very end of the conversation. 

“that joke doesn’t get any funnier the fifth time you say it.” satoru seethes. 

“get a move on before i do, dumbass.��� suguru responds, giving satoru one last shove before walking off. 

you don’t have time to think about his words, but one thought crosses your mind – that suguru might have been so insistent at that party all of those years ago, because he knew it would push something forward between the two of you. 

he sure had a strange way of being a wingman. 

at the sight of satoru, megumi’s holding his little hands out – something satoru obliges to as he picks him up – before turning over to face you. 

“do you want me to kill him?” he asks. 

you smile. 

“i know he’s just kidding.” you respond. 

satoru rolls his eyes. 

“i was kind of hoping you would say yes.” 

“did you used to date suguru too?” megumi asks. 

you widen your eyes. 

“absolutely not. just your dad, no one else.” you respond. 

“god megumi, that’s not just something that you can ask someone.” tsumiki murmurs, padding into the kitchen with pink cheeks, as she wraps her arm around your leg. 

you return the affection, reaching down to push her bangs away from her forehead, as you look back at satoru. he stares a little too long, before looking over at megumi and whispering. 

“can you and tsumiki take a walk real quick?” 

megumi gives him a nod as satoru sets him down, the two of them walking away hand in hand to the other side of the room, as satoru turns back to you, reaching forward to wrap his hands around your wrists. 

“hey.” he whispers. 

“hi.” you whisper back. 

he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. 

“did you enjoy the game?” 

“sure did. tsumiki and i shared rainbow airheads. and megumi gave me a really big hug after you won, which almost made me cry.” you respond. 

“i’ll say. i almost cried when i saw all three of you hugging on the jumbotron.” 

you lean forward, pressing yourself against his chest, as you link your arms together behind his back. you can hear suguru’s words racing through your mind – if it were me i wouldn’t be able to contain it, do you like him? because he loves you – and it makes your skin burn. 

“hey. you okay?” satoru asks. 

you say the only thing that you can think of. 

“yeah. i’m just…really happy..” you whisper. 

satoru pinches your cheek.

“me too.” he responds.  

“ever since i left, my life has changed, so drastically, so quickly. i went from being a girl from a small suburb in new york to being someone that…that a lot of people knew about. wanted to know about. sometimes this stuff makes me feel like i’m not really that person anymore.” 

you pause. 

“but every time you look at me i can…i do feel like that again. like someone who was in high school, who hated school dances, and did the morning announcements. someone who loved you. who was with you.” 

you sigh. 

“no one’s ever had me like you. i don’t know if you’re joking when you say it, but it really is fate. you really are….are my soulmate or my invisible string or whatever. you…you’re it for me.” 

satoru lets go of your wrists, before reaching for the closest cupboard and reaching for a bottle, and placing it flat on the floor. he’s crouching on his knees, your chest so full of love you can barely stomach it, as he gestures for you to crouch on the floor close to him, his cheeks pink in the light. 

you watch as he spins the bottle, only for it to miss and land on the fridge. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” satoru responds. 

he reaches forward, twisting the bottle so it faces you, before looking at you expectantly. the same way he looked every other time – waiting for you to tell him what your dream job was, waiting for you to kiss him, and now waiting for you to confess for a second time. 

“are you going to kiss me, y/n?” 

you whisper it against his lips. 

“guess what?” 

“what?” 

“i knew what i wanted. and i got him.” 

--

an: our very first ttpd gojo as taylor <3 this post was sponsored by @yuutito, @neptuneblue, and @um-no-ok through my participation in fics for gaza! thank you so much for donating - I hope you liked the piece!!! i went a little bit over the promised wordcount as I started writing, but left it as is to be posted since we met the goal. a reminder that i'm still taking submissions for my wips (i'll be putting a new one up) and for requests!

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[thelargefrye]

THE YULE DRAGON … holiday one - shot ( 17+ )

pairing : poly!dragon!ateez x witch!f!reader

genre : dragon au, fantasy au, holiday au, fluff, angst

word count : 4.3k

warnings : language, mentions of dragon hunters, talks about death, light injury but nothing major, one death threat

suffer tag : @sanjoongie and for anon who asked about any new chapters

note : very excited to write this, so let me know what you think! also here is a link to what y/n's dress at the yule gala looks like!

the winter month draws near and the clan prepares to celebrate the yule dragon festival for the first time in years. knowing this is wooyoung's first one with an actually clan, you want to make sure everything is perfect.

when you woke up in the morning, you noticed how snow had slowly begun to fall and lay on the ground. you also couldn't help but notice how the dragons around you seemed to have been in good moods. smiles on their faces as they walked around and some even greeted you with warm smiles.

when you arrived at the nursery, the hatchlings all immediately greeted you. most of them run up and tackle you to the ground.

"miss y/n! miss y/n! did you see the snow?" one hatchling, jiyu, asked and you couldn't help but laugh as you nodded and pushed some hair out of her face.

"yes, i did. very beautiful isn't it?"

"not as beautiful as you, miss y/n!" another hatchling, minjae, said. the other hatchlings couldn't help but agree with minjae and you couldn't help but laugh at them all.

"prince mingi said that we will be able to celebrate the yule dragon festival this year!"

"the yule dragon festival?" you remember wooyoung telling you about the holiday years ago when you first met. you can't help but feel excited knowing he's going to enjoy a real one this year.

"yeah! it's been years since the clan last held one," seeun says and that quickly catches your attention. years? you thought the holiday was a yearly thing?

"alright, little ones, let's go ahead and get ready for the day," mingi comes in and ushers the hatchlings away from you in order to gather them in a line so they could eat.

you push your curiosity down for later as you go over to help mingi with the hatchlings. you watch the hatchlings with a warm fondness as they eat and talk to each other, and the rest of the day goes by in flash with you and mingi taking care of the young dragons.

"miss y/n, have you ever experienced a yule dragon festival before?" one of the hatchlings asked as they were laying down for a nap. the question of one hatchling seemed to have caught the attention of a few others around you two.

"not a proper one with a true clan, but me and wooyoung used to do a small celebration before we came to the clan," you said as you remembered your time with wooyoung back in your cottage. you can feel your cheeks heat up as you remember the first time you both celebrated the yule dragon together.

"do witches have any special holidays?" another hatchling, siyu, asked.

"we do but they're not like the yule dragon one. we focus more on what we are thankful for and mourning those that have left us," you explain.

"that sounds sad."

"sometimes it is sad, but then you have to remember that even those that left this world are still with us in spirit. watching over and guiding us on the right path of destiny," you say.

"but miss y/n, you don't have to be sad anymore because you have all of us!" one hatchling said with the others immediately agreeing and you couldn't help but smile at all of them.

"okay, okay, everyone," mingi says as he comes in and immediately calming all the hatchlings down. "its time to rest, not get excited."

"but prince mingi," minjae says looking towards the tall prince, "don't you agree that miss y/n doesn't have to be sad anymore, since she has all of us now?"

"of course," mingi says as he bends down to pet minjae's head, "but miss y/n still has a right to miss those that she lost. we all do. now come on, everyone, time to rest!"

you can't help but smile at how some of the hatchlings groan at mingi's words, but nonetheless all lay down in their little nooks. you and mingi go through and make sure each hatchling is comfortable before you leave the nesting room.

you watch as mingi closes the door behind him before he's offering his arm to you. you take his arm with a smile as he escorts the two of you back to the main palace wing.

"i meant what i said though," mingi begins and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "that you have a right to be sad about those you lost, but also know that hatchlings are right as well and that you have all of us now. the hatchlings, me, wooyoung, yeosang, the others, and even the clan. you have all of us."

"thank you, prince mingi," you say, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek and he smiles at you before quickly pressing his own kiss to your lips. "also," you speak up after you two continue to walk, "what did the little ones mean when they said its been years since you all had a yule dragon festival?"

"well... we haven't had one since hongjoong's parents and brother were killed. hongjoong didn't want to have a large one with the whole clan, so this is the first time in five years that we have celebrated it as such," mingi explains and you nod your head in understanding.

"what caused him to suddenly change his mind?"

"well you and wooyoung of course," you wanted to laugh at mingi's answer. more like just wooyoung, you think. you decide to remain silent as mingi guides you through the palace.

"this will be wooyoung's first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you note as you notice many dragons setting up and decorating the palace corridors with festive decorations. you can't help but feel excited knowing that wooyoung will be able to experience the real thing after so many years of not having it with an actual clan.

your mind goes back to when you and wooyoung would celebrate together back at the cottage. both of you dressing up, decorating the cottage, and spending the entire night together. wooyoung taught you the dances that he learned. even when you weren't celebrating the dragon holiday, you would find wooyoung and yourself dancing and just enjoying each other's company.

"hey, mingi?" you caught the dragon's attention and he turns towards you as you continue to speak, "is there... a way i can help set up the festival?"

"oh! umm, i think so. seonghwa is usually in charge of things like this, but i volunteered to help him this time, so..."

"do you need help?" you ask, feeling an excitement bubble up in your stomach.

"of course you can help," mingi says, a wide smile on his face and you mirror his smile, beaming up at him. the two of you share a quick hug, mingi lets out a small laugh at your excitement, almost not expecting it.

"thank you," you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you are separating yourself from him. you notice the blush that covers his cheeks and ears and you have to stop yourself from pouncing on the tall dragon from how cute he is.

as the next week goes by, you spend your time helping the dragons in the clan to decorate for the yule dragon holiday. at first some of the dragons were reluctant at accepting your help, but slowly and eventually they allowed for you to help with the decorations. sure they didn't trust you with the important stuff, but that was okay.

you only wanted to make sure everything was perfect for wooyoung, he needed to have the best yule dragon after everything he has done for you. you also wanted to make sure the clan had a good one as well, but wooyoung took priority in your heart.

"wow, look at these decorations, darling," yeosang's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look down from your spot on the wooden ladder to see your lover looking up at you with a smile. you finish hanging the silver garland before climbing down the ladder and yeosang is quick to press a loving kiss to your lips.

"thank you, me and the hatchlings made them," you say, feeling rather proud from how all the decorations have been turning out. many of the other clan dragons complimenting you on your hard work.

"you've been working so hard, a lot of the clan members are grateful for your help," he says as the two of you begin walking out of the grand hall, where the yule gala will be held tomorrow night. other dragons are busy around you all finishing up last minute details, with most of them stopping to bow at yeosang before scurrying away to finish their task.

"i have something for you, princess," he says once the two of you are out of the grand hall and you give him a confused look which only makes him smile. "it’s custom for everyone to wear special outfits, rather a little too fancy if you ask me, but people really enjoy it," he begins as the two of you continue to walk down the hall.

"and i bet you completely forgot to make sure you are prepared for the gala," yeosang teases and you felt yourself get flustered at his words. "but don't worry because you wonderful mate has taken care of you," he says as you both stop in front of your chamber doors. "i hired a seamstress to make you a dress and thankfully she managed to finish it in time."

"wait, yeosang– you... you didn't, you shouldn't have."

"but i did, and i wanted to. my darling, you have done so much, let me give you this," he says, cupping your cheeks before leaning over and kissing you. you feel yourself melt into the kiss as you press yourself closer to your lover, arms wrapping around his waist. the two of you only separate when you're out of breath and yeosang presses one last kiss to your lips before he's pulling away and opening the door to your bedroom.

when you stepped inside, you were completely shocked at the dress that rested on the mannequin in the center of your room. you had honestly never seen a dress more beautiful in your life and you felt yourself tear up because of it. you felt like you didn't deserve a dress as gorgeous as this.

"it's beautiful, yeosang."

"you look absolutely beautiful, my fire," seonghwa says when he sees you walk into the grand hall.

the gala had been going on for several minutes, hongjoong lighting the ceremonial flame that burned in the center of the clan. you were amazed at the flame and its rather unique color, and mingi explained that this flame could only be lit by the leader of a clan and that it in order to celebrate the first dragon.

you honestly couldn't look away from the flame, almost like it was meant to entrance you.

"thank you, prince seonghwa," you said, bowing slightly to the eldest dragon prince. seonghwa could only smile as he took your hand into his before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

"make sure you enjoy yourself," he says, not yet letting go of your hand. "i want a dance before the night is over."

"of course, your highness," you say, a small smirk taking over your lips before seonghwa is nodding and making his leave. he does unfortunately have other people to see and talk to.

your eyes scan around the grand hall, looking for the head of familiar red hair and you feel your heart skip a beat when you finally find him. wooyoung looked absolutely handsome in his outfit and you were glad to see that he matched the other princes. it made your heart flutter knowing that wooyoung was being accepted by the clan.

you made your way over to your first lover, your feet picking up speed when you two made eye contact. you felt like it had been forever since you last seen wooyoung – however it had only been a few hours. you had been so caught up in making sure the festival and gala were perfect for him that you had completely forgot to pay the red-headed dragon attention.

so you immediately wrapped wooyoung in a tight hug once you were close enough. wooyoung was quick to return the hug, holding you close to him as he inhaled your scent before pressing a kiss to your neck.

"my y/n, you look so beautiful," he says as he twirls you around, the white-silver fabric that was decorated with beautiful shimmering stars and moons. wooyoung had seen the dress, yeosang having shown him before you and he knew you would look beautiful in it. but of course, seeing you actually in it he was blown away by your appearance.

"are you having a good time, woo?" you ask, heart beating rapidly waiting for his answer.

"of course i am," he says with a smile, "mingi mentioned how you helped out with this whole thing. any reason why?"

"you, of course," you say, both your hands linking with his. "this is your first yule dragon with an actual clan in a long time. i wanted to make sure it was perfect."

"oh love," he says, gently pulling the two of you off to the side, "you didn't need to do that. it would have perfect no matter what because i'm celebrating it with you. back at the cottage... i saw the two of us as our own little clan. and the yeosang joined," wooyoung says and you can't help but laugh at his last comment. despite mating and bonding with yeosang, wooyoung still couldn't get over the other dragon coming in basically setting up camp in your little cottage.

"you love yeosang, don't try to fool yourself," you tease and wooyoung grumbles a little bit before rolling his eyes.

"whatever."

you were about to say something when the sound of a familiar tune filled the grand hall. you turned to see a lot of the people gathering at the center and began dancing. you noticed mingi pulling yunho behind him to the dance floor with many of the other dragons cheering for the two tall princes. following them, you see yeosang and san dancing and you were a little surprised at seeing the blonde guard dancing and smiling as him and yeosang looked at one another.

"wow, who knew san could smile," wooyoung says and you crack a smile before turning to your lover.

"shall we join them as well?" you ask and wooyoung nods before he's pulling you towards the dance floor and you two quickly fall into a rhythm of the dance. the music easily guided you as you and wooyoung danced, you felt your whole attention center in on your lover and it felt like it was just the two of you.

you got flashbacks to when you and wooyoung would dance in your cottage. how back then it really was just the two of you and no one else, but now you were surrounded by people that even if they all didn't welcome you, they welcomed wooyoung. and even if you didn't feel welcomed at first, you have mingi, yeosang, the hatchlings.

seeing wooyoung smile and laugh and enjoy himself made you feel like you were on cloud nine. even if he wouldn't say it out loud, you knew wooyoung enjoyed being a part of the clan.

you felt the music guide you and your thoughts, as the music began to slow down you found yourself and wooyoung also slowing down. wooyoung pulling you close to him, his arm coming to wrap around your waist to hold you close to him.

"i have you had your ceremony?" wooyoung suddenly asks, snapping you out of your happy daze. you knew immediately what he was talking about.

"not yet, i was waiting till after the gala was over," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat at knowing what you would have to do later.

just like dragons, witches also had their own traditions and such. not as public as the yule dragon, but more intimate to each witch. celebrating those that you left you in this world. wooyoung has been with you during this ceremony like you have been with him for his. you don't know how many nights you have fallen asleep, crying in wooyoung's arms because of all the witches that have died.

"do you want me there with you?" he asks, and it takes you a moment to think about it.

"no, i'll do it alone this time."

"are you sure?" you nod your head, you didn't want to ruin wooyoung's good time here with your own traditions and ceremonies.

when the music changed once again, you pressed a kiss to wooyoung before stepping away, telling him you needed some fresh air.

"let me come with you," he says as he starts to trail after you, but you stop him.

"it’s okay," you say, hand out to stop him, "i'll be right back."

you don't give wooyoung a chance to say anything as you're turning and making your way to one of the many garden doors that lead out into the courtyard.

once the cold air hit your skin, you let out a sigh as you made your way over to one of the stone benches that overlooked most of the courtyard and even down further into the clan. the yule flame burned brightly a short distance away and you couldn't help but walk over to it. the flame reminded you of the flame that you would light for the umbra ceremony.

the flame burned brightly and you almost felt like a moth from how you were being drawn to it.

which is how you found yourself in front of it. the noises from the grand hall behind you is like static as you look at the flame, letting it consume you. you got flashbacks to when you would set up a room of candles for the witches that you lost, the flame from those candles burning brightly into your mind.

"why are you out here," the cold voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at hongjoong with wide eyes. the prince looks at you with a stern expression, his cold eyes burning into your body.

"i was just... just getting some air," you tell him, refusing to fully make eye contact with him.

hongjoong lets out a 'tsk' sound before he's coming to stand next to you, looking up at the flame. you're surprised by how close hongjoong, this is probably the closest he has ever gotten to you without trying to kill you.

"mingi told me how you helped decorate for the festival," he said out of nowhere after the two of you stood in silence. "i guess witches can be good for something," he adds and you feel yourself deflate at his harsh words.

"i did it for wooyoung," you said wanting to make it clear that you were only doing it for your first love and no one else. "this is his first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you add.

"and i'm sure witches are the reason why he had gone for so long without experiencing one with a clan," he says back.

"perhaps," you say as you clench your fist together tightly, "but wooyoung is here now with a clan," you turn your head to look at hongjoong, taking in his form once more. his lavish outfit and vibrant blue hair standing out against the dark night. he was the epitome of what a leader of a dragon clan should be in the fact that he always had that air of authority around him. everyone respected him and if they didn't respect him then they feared him.

you, unfortunately, feared him more than you respected him. the dragon oracles say that you two are mates like you are with the rest of the princes, but you knew hongjoong refused to acknowledge you as his mate. you were a witch, the thing that killed his parents and brother and forced him to take the role of leader too soon. you wondered if you and hongjoong would ever get along.

you notice how the flame reflects against hongjoong's skin and then something hits you.

"please excuse me, prince hongjoong," you say suddenly before you are rushing past him. hongjoong doesn't say anything and you don't know if he watches you leave as you are too caught up in rushing back into the palace.

you run to your room, feeling out of breath as you enter your chambers you share with wooyoung before going over to the large trunk that rested at the foot of the bed. you quickly dig through the trunk and pull out a set of candles. all three a beautiful rose color and it reminds you greatly of your mother.

"what are these for mother?" you asked, looking up at your mother as she handed you the three candles. they were different from the ones you were use to lightly for the umbra ceremony and you wondered why she was giving them to you.

"these are special candles, y/n, i made them myself so you can use them when you need them the most," she explains, her voice seeming ever cryptic.

"when i need them the most?" you echo and she nods, a tight-lipped smile painting her features.

"they are for the one who will need to say goodbye the most."

you gripped the candles tightly as you raced back to the courtyard and was surprised to still see hongjoong standing there. somewhere deep inside wants you to believe he waited for you, but you know that's impossible.

"prince hongjoong," you say as you approach him. "i want to thank you for letting wooyoung into your home. i know that... you despise me and my people, you lost your parents and brother after all. and i know you probably don't care but i want to share something with you."

hongjoong turns to look at you, his face void of emotion as he watches you set the three candles down between the two of you. you crouch down, kneeling front of the candles as hongjoong stands towering above you.

"the umbra witches have their own ceremony, we light candles in order to remember those that have left us and this world. we do this as a way to remind us that while they have left this world physically, they are still here with us spiritually," you pause in order to take a deep breath, licking your lips before continuing.

"my mother made me these candles when she was still alive. she told me that they were for someone who needed to say goodbye, and... i think she made them for you."

"what the hell are you talking about?" hongjoong asks, voice full of surprise and anger. "i don't need any of you stupid umbra witch shit," he adds and you notice his fist clenches with his rage.

"please," you beg, voice straining as you plead with the prince, "take the candles, it will bring you peace, prince hongjoong."

you feel a sudden shock as you are grabbed by the collar of your dress. you're pulled up from your kneeling position, face dangerously close to an enraged hongjoong as he bares his teeth at you. in the moment you are reminded that you are at the mercy of a clan full of dragons whether you liked it or not.

"i will never," he jaw clenched tightly as he speaks, "ever, forgive your damned people for what they did to my family. my people. so don't think so damned candles will change that. you will never be my mate and just know that if it wasn't for yeosang and mingi that i would have burned you at a stake a long fucking time ago."

hongjoong waste no time in throwing you to the ground, your hands skidding across the stone pathway harshly and you flinch at the sudden burn of skin. you turn to see hongjoong's eye burning, like he will kill you if you say anything else to him.

you then watch him destroy two of the candles, his foot coming down harshly on them and you feel like a part of you is being ripped apart as you watch him. he's about to do the same to the last one, but you move and grab the last candle. the last one your mother made.

then without thinking you stand up and run away from the prince. you clearly made a mistake in thinking that you could get hongjoong to open up just a little bit. you felt tears begin to form in your eyes as you ran, clutching the candle close to your chest as you collapsed in the one of the many decorated halls.

you looked down at the candle once more, the image of your mother's smile flashing inside your mind as you caressed it. you knew this candle was for hongjoong. he was the one who needed to say goodbye to those he lost, but it was obvious that now wasn't the time.

"y/n!" the sudden call of your name makes you snap your head up to see yeosang rushing towards you. face full of concern and he drops down to the floor next to you. "y/n, what's wrong, why are you crying?" he brushes the tears away and you open your mouth to say something before a sob escapes instead.

you throw yourself into his arms and he arms them around you protectively. you hold your mother's candle close to you as you allow yourself to cry in yeosang's arms. yeosang doesn't say anything, only letting you cry as a comforting hand runs over your hair.

"it's okay, y/n, i'm here," he says softly, holding you closer to him. "whatever made you sad, don't think about it anymore, okay? cause i'm here to protect you."

and so the night comes to an end as you spend the rest of it in yeosang's arms, allowing him to hold you closely as you mourn for the loss of your mother and the hate hongjoong bares for you. 

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network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[r0-boat]

*Free falls from the sky*

Hello there, I’m 🦩anon! I come from the land of being terrified to send asks but finally got the courage to when it comes to the hot demons from WHB

I absolutely loved your Mammon Headcanons (totally not because I go feral for him, and also loved the dark/more twisted ones)

Do you by chance have more? If not then that’s ok!

🦩

Let's get some very sweet headcannons I don't have a lot but I have a few of certain characters so here's a mess of them!

Wholesome what in hell is bad headcanons various demons

Gehanna eddition

Let's give some love to the nobles!

Belial

Your Belial's first love, You're the apple of his eye. He constantly daydreams about you. And he's always eager to go on cute dates with you.

Belial before he lost his voice was a very good singer now you can only hear little bits of it when he hums. Someone hadn't heard his voice in a long time so he's a little shy about his singing.

Belial is always staring, please don't mind him He just likes looking at you listening to your voice. You could talk for hours and he could listen. Only for him to respond 'I love you.'

Leraye

When he gives you gifts he always gives you stuffed animals.

Leraye will randomly text you just to remind you that you're beautiful and great and sexy and that he loves you. Sometimes you'll just send you texts or at a context photos throughout his day He just likes telling you about himself.

Leraye feeds stray cats every time You see him, He is surrounded by stray kitties purring and cuddling up to him as he's trying to feed them. He has the biggest smile on his face as he tries to give them all attention and food.

Paimon

Paimon always shares his food with you, It is His love language He doesn't let anyone else do it but you. Sometimes he'll order big sizes just so you can eat it together. Paimon will even feed you.

If you have feminine clothing paimon will ask to borrow it. If not Paimon will buy outfits to match with you. They even bought you two little keychains to match.

Paimon loves to do those couples challenges with you. every time they find a new one they get so happy and then text you sending you the link to it and asks if you want to do it with them the next time you come over.

Sitri

A very overworked demon as much as your heartbeat turns him on it also calms him down when he lays against your chest he starts falling asleep.

Sitri is very touch starved He loves when you calm your hands through his hair melting into your touch and when you pull away he whimpers asking why you stopped.

Yes he does get annoyed when Leraye is hogging your attention but to be honest he's kind of happy that Leraye And you get along so well he hopes he could take care of you and you can take care of him part of him kind of hope you will choose him. Leraye is it good demon.

Zagen

Zagen is a really good artist, when he's bored he doodles for fun and those doodles look like works of art. During a meeting Zagen and Belial started doodling on a piece of paper. Despite Belial's crappy drawings Zagen says they're absolutely amazing and Belial should draw more so now they draw together! Zagen Even teaches Belial some art techniques and he's getting better Zagen is so proud! Leraye and Zagen still go to the gym together.

Zagen even though his rank is lower he still feels like a big brother to all of the other devils. He's very stoic protective yet caring and sweet. Zagen is a gentle giant. He may look scary but he's actually pretty shy. One compliment and his face is turning red, trying to hide that blushing face.

Zagen always reminds you to eat, He wants you to be strong by eating healthy. He knows how to cook because he makes his own healthy meals. You will never go hungry when he's around and he is happy to cook for you.

Astaroth

Instead of texting which he does do sometimes, He sends letters to you. Some of them are rather... Spicy, but all of them are filled with poetic and lovely words that make your heart flutter. It feels as though you are in the middle ages getting a love letter from your beloved fiance. Every word drips with love and you could practically feel the emotion on the paper. He even puts a little wax stamp on it before sending it to you the letter isn't an envelope smelling of his cologne.

Astaroth imagine is himself as the main character and you as love interest when he reads romantic novels. You can't help but imagine the two of you in those lovely situations sometimes he even writes it himself.

When he does text you he pours his heart out in a longing text. Telling you how much he longs for you. How his heart aches when he's not near you. How he feels as though he has lost without your touch. He knows just what to make you swoon.

[miyoriia]

What's hilarious to me about all the responses to the anon I sent you is that literally all of the people saying I'm a coward for posting on anon or saying I'm too dumb to understand these concepts follow me and fawn over me constantly. I don't care about being criticized myself. If I thought I could come off anon without hurting the people close to me and bringing a brigade of pseudo-intellectuals to their doorstep, I would own my opinions proudly. Unfortunately, I know that they would be criticized and harassed for merely associating with me. I support trans people. I support non-binary people. I don't even really care if you want to be called it. What I find disconcerting is you going around saying things like "It feels sad today" or some dumb shit like that. It's as cringe as if you put your name there instead. And I'm sorry, but yes, you are a person. You being a person is the very thing that allows you to have these thoughts, feelings, and what allows you to choose this form of expression. You are an individual. A single entity. A human being. A person. Or do you consider yourself transspecies? At what point do we draw the line? If people just start saying they are actually dogs, do we expect all of society to treat them as dogs? We're reaching a point where nothing means anything and it's all just nihilism.

hahaha LOL (thats laughing out loud if you didnt know)

[petite-madame]

just so you know, it’s very obvious to actual artists that you’re posting AI and then lying that you’ve done it all by hand. kind of embarrassing, and more than a little fucked up.

Hi anon

This kind of nonsense usually ends up in the trash with a laugh but as it's my first "your art is AI", let's go! (It was just a matter of time, as practically all my artist friends got this kind of messages at this point)

it’s very obvious to actual artists...

Actual artists ? You mean, like me, a professional illustrator in her 40s, who has started drawing at the age of 8 and who has been drawing with a consistant art style for the past 15 years (with some improvements, thank god 🤓) ? People like you have accused me of tracing using tracing paper when I was a kid, tracing in Photoshop 15 years ago when I started to post on the internet and now my art is "AI". I should be used to it by now: when I posted this one 14 YEARS AGO, people told me it was traced and that "I wasn't a real artist, actual artists could tell"

I've consistently posted step by step, WIPs, vids, reels, gifs, shown the number of layers I use by art (sometimes more than 100) but apparently, it's never enough. And my art is AI generated ? Which one ?

So much for the Loki one, I apologize for the 0,3%…

Which is also funny is that fans of Supernatural, Good Omens, Sherlock, etc…have been able to say exactly which reference pictures I used for each drawing, not only for faces but sometimes also for the pose and the clothing (because yes, omg, I use reference pictures, the horror 😲)

However if you want to talk about my technique, and I've never hidden it, I sometimes use photos or 3D models for backgrounds because I hate drawing backgrounds. For instance the background of the Superwholock one is composed of a couple of stock pictures (a pub).

Same for a "Sherlock Harry Potter AU" I'll post in a month or so: some parts oh Hogwarts are screenshots from the movie because I didn't feel like drawing a room full of students.

Also, is there sometimes mistakes in my art that don't make sense ? Yes, nothing new, I make mistakes, I've been doing it for years and I still do it, particularly when it comes to anatomy. I want to pull my hair out when I notice them weeks (sometimes months) later but here we are.

Anyway, people like you who throw "it's AI" accusations all over the Internet better think twice because the result is this.

Don't get me wrong, I get the AI paranoia but instead of sending messages to artists like this one, ask kindly about their process, their technique, etc…and also, have a look at their archive, it could help.

I'm leaving you now, I have AI art to generate (= spending 10 hours per drawing using reference pictures, finding inspiration from classical painting, using about 100 layers and stressing about the art not being good enough).

Have a great weekend!

[redstarwriting]

happy birthday

miles morales x reader

request?: yes

request: “I LOVEDDD THE HC’S OMG OMG WORK OF ART!!! i was wondering if you would write something expanding on getting miles’ doodles tatted as an adult!! i would love to read more abt it, it’s so cutee”

requested by: anon​

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff

Warnings: language, tattoos, mentions of tattoos and needles, Miles is so sweet it's sick

A/N: GLADLY!! i've been itching to get a new tattoo since the minute i got my first like three years ago and writing this just made me want to get another one so bad LMAO. i hope you enjoy!

also in case you were wondering what hcs anon is talking about, it's my pda/general affection hcs i wrote for hobie and miles! you can check it out here if you haven't already and feel compelled to :)

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“Miles! Baby, can you give me a tattoo?” you ask, and he smiles. This has become a common practice in your relationship. From the time y’all were kids in love to now, you would always ask him for a tattoo. Of course, he didn’t actually give you tattoos, he just drew on your arm. He’s mentioned you, and even urged you, to get a tattoo every now and again. Especially when he offered to design them, but you always say his temporary ones are more special than any other tattoo you could get. He isn’t upset about it. He genuinely loves drawing on you. “Of course, babe. Come here,” he says, motioning you over to him as he grabs his markers he has specifically for your “tattoos.” You go over to him, sitting between his legs and extending your arm. “Can you draw it right next to the uh… elbow pit?” you say, and he laughs. “Elbow pit?”

“Yeah, like the inside of my arm and not on the bicep part or the elbow pit part, but the forearm part by the elbow pit,” you explain, pointing to the area you’re talking about. He chuckles. “Elbow pit.”

“Well, what else would it be called?” you ask, smiling, and he grins, starting to doodle on your arm. “I’ll text and ask my mom what the scientific name for it is after I’m done here,” he says, and you lean your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, god, please don’t tell her I called it an elbow pit.”

“Oh, I’m totally telling her you called it that,” he teases, placing a quick peck on your lips before returning his attention to your arm. He draws a spiderweb, of course, but in the shape of a heart. He adds his Miles touch to it by making it look like the web was spraypainted, and having it pop with black and red. You don’t even look at the tattoo as he draws it, you just stare at his face. You love watching him when he does his art. You assume it’s similar to the way his face looks when he’s swinging around the city as Spider-Man. He’s in his element, laser-focused and yet has an ease about him that mesmerizes you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says, smirking and turning his attention to you. You feel your face heat up but roll your eyes. “Can’t, arm’s a bit preoccupied.”

“You can get creative; I have an idea. Maybe use the one I’m not drawing on?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What do you think, amor?” he asks, and you look. You smile. “I love it, Miles. Thank you,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as you admire his art. “What time is it?” you ask, and he glances at his phone. “11:15. Why?” 

“Ganke and I are gonna go get some lunch today.”

“Should I be worried?” Miles jokes. “No, dummy. We’re just talking about… something happening soon,” you say, and a sly smile spreads across Miles’ face. “How soon?”

“I’ve said too much,” you say, trying to get up. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is Spider-Man and can easily hold you in place. “Nuh uh, how soon is this something happening?” he looks at you with a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, spider boy?”

“I would. Is it, and this is just a wild guess… something happening tomorrow? A special something happening on a very special day?” he guesses, and you sigh. “Don’t tell Ganke you found out…”

“I knew it!”

“We’re supposed to be planning your birthday party, yes. For tomorrow. On your birthday. Are you happy you spoiled it for yourself now?” you feign annoyance, and he laughs. “I am, actually. Now I know to look good for you tomorrow.” You roll your eyes. “You always look nice, Miles.”

“Only for you,” he grins at you, turning your face to look at him. The two of you share a kiss before it’s interrupted by his police scanner going off. He frowns slightly. “It’s okay, Miles. I gotta go soon anyways,” you give him a quick peck for squeezing out of his arms. He sighs. “Fine, fine. Guess I’ll go save the city. Be the best thing that ever happened to New York and all that.”

“My hero,” you joke, and he grins. “You know it,” he says, slipping his mask on and sliding his everyday clothes off. “I’ll see you later, Miles. Stay safe. Love you.”

“You stay safe, too. Love you more.” He leaps out of the window, and you make sure he’s gone before you call Ganke. “Yo, what’s up?”

“You gotta plan Miles’ birthday party tomorrow.”

“Woah, what?” You sigh. “I already have the roof of our building booked out for it, I ordered the cake already and will pick it up tomorrow and have all the decorations. You just need to invite everyone, okay?”

“You mean I have to reach out to people in different dimensions, tell them to clear their schedules for tomorrow, and hope for the best?” Ganke asks, and you hum into the phone. “Yep! Thanks, Ganke! Also, if Miles asks, we went and got lunch, okay?”

“And where are you really going?”

“I’m getting a tattoo to surprise him for his birthday tomorrow,” you say, grabbing your keys and putting some money in your pocket. You put Ganke on speaker, sending a quick text to Hobie. “You need to stop using me as a cover-up, (Y/n).”

“Who else am I supposed to use? Gwen?” you say, and Ganke sighs. “I mean, yeah, you know she would be down to help you with something like this.”

“Ganke she is so bad at keeping secrets like that, and you know it,” you say, admiring the art on your arm again. “Then use Hobie.”

“Wait that’s actually a good idea,” you say, “Especially since he’s the one giving me the tattoo.”

“AND YOU STILL USED ME?!”

“I PANICKED! He was asking questions! Just, listen, invite as many people as you can think of, alright? Please, and thank you.”

“Fine. Go get inked or whatever they say,” Ganke says. The two of you give some quick goodbyes before hanging up. You receive a reply from Hobie, and a portal opens in Miles and your bedroom. You step through it and find yourself in Hobie’s flat. “Can I just say it’s about damn time you got one of ‘is works tattooed onto ya,” Hobie says, motioning to his couch. You sit and he gets his whole get-up ready, all the cleaning wipes and gloves and the tattoo gun all ready to go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m getting it now and that’s what matters,” you say, and he clicks his tongue. “I can guarantee ya this is just gonna be the beginning. Kinda becomes an addiction,” he says, sitting next to you, and fiddling with his gun. “Then I guess I’ll just need to have Miles draw on me even more.” He chuckles. “Lemme see it.”

You show him the drawing, and Hobie shakes his head. “Your man is corny,” he says, and you shrug. “I like it.”

“I know,” he dips his gun in ink, and looks at you, “Ya ready?” You nod, and he begins tattooing Miles’ art onto your skin. The two of you talk the whole time, really, and you let him know about the party tomorrow. He, of course, agrees to come, and can’t wait to see Miles’ reaction. It takes a few hours, but eventually he finishes up and it looks exactly like Miles just drew it on your skin. Hobie places fake skin over it and gives you the rundown of how to take care of it. He turns away from you to put something away, and you quickly slip $100 under a pillow on the couch. You know he won’t accept any money from you because he’s ‘not a capitalist pig,’ so you have to be sneaky with it. “Thank you so much, Hobie,” you say, and he winks at you. “Anythin’ for my mate’s better ‘alf.”

He opens the portal again, and you two say bye until tomorrow. You’re back home, literally, in no time, and you quickly throw one of the hoodies Miles left lying around on. This way he won’t see the tattoo, and you can play it off like you missed him. Especially since you did kind of miss him and it is sort of a staple in your relationship that you wear his clothes when you do. That’ll make him melt and he’ll forget all about the art on your arm. And you were absolutely right. 

It ended up being a late night for Spider-Man, and when he got home, he saw you curled up on the couch, sleeping with his hoodie on, and all he could think about was that you missed him. He carefully picked you up and carried you to your shared bed. You started to wake up as soon as he was getting in bed after taking a shower and cleaning up, and he began desperately trying to get you to go back to sleep. “What time is it?” you groggily ask. “It’s like 3am, (Y/n/n), I’m here now, we can go to sleep, okay?” he says, slipping into bed next to you and pulling you on top of his chest. “Happy birthday!” you sleepily say, burying your face into his chest. He smiles. “Thank you, amor. Let’s get back to sleep now, yeah?” You make a muffled mmhmm sound and are out like a light almost immediately. Miles smiles to himself, wondering how he got this lucky.

You can imagine his disappointment when he wakes up the next day and you’re not snug against his chest, but he feels better the minute he sees a little note on his chest that explains you’ll be home, you just had to go do something for him. He gets up and decided he can do his Spider-Man duties until you text him and let him know he needs to come home. It may be his birthday, but the city still needs it’s defender. So that’s exactly what he does. He cannot explain how grateful he is that none of the big bads were trying to start anything today, because if he didn’t get to see you and eat a slice of cake, he was going to scream. The day went slower than he wanted but also sped by when eventually he got a text from you saying to come home. He immediately obliges, swinging in through the window and putting on some of his nicest clothes. He walks out of your room and sees you chilling on the couch. “Miss me?” he asks, walking over and bending down to kiss your lips. You giggle. “Obviously. Hey, before we go up to the roof where there totally isn’t a party waiting for you, I wanna show you something, okay?”

“Okay,” he grins, and you grin back. “Cover your eyes.” He does as instructed, and hears you shift slightly. “Okay… open them.” He opens his eyes, and immediately sees his “tattoo” on your arm. Only it was covered in a clear wrap. And it’s real. His eyes get big, and he looks at your face. You give a small smile. “You always encouraged me to get a real tattoo, so… happy birthday.”

“Yo! It looks so good, hold up,” he gently grabs your arm and softly traces it through the saniderm. “When did you get this?”

“Yesterday.”

“You weren’t actually with Ganke, were you?”

“No, I was with Hobie,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I got a little liar on my hands, huh?”

“It wasn’t lying it was covering my ass because you ask too many damn questions,” you say, and he laughs. “I love it, (Y/n/n).” You smile and the two of you share a kiss. “We should probably get up there. Some people are waiting. Oh, and pretend like you haven’t seen it yet. Hobie wants to see your reaction.” Miles laughs. “Alright. Well, I hope he knows I’m not gonna stop drawing on you. And that he fully traced my art,” Miles says, and you shake your head. “I’m sure he knows, Miles. You really like it?”

“Like it? Baby, I told you I love it. I love you; I love this tattoo; I love that this is a birthday present from you… everything about this? I love it. I don’t even need to go up there to make the day better because all I need is you,” he says, and you smile. “Hobie was right. You’re so corny.”

“Nah, hold on, he said that? Forget everything I just said it’ll be a perfect day when I punch him.” You laugh as the two of you make your way up to the party. But the whole time, Miles keeps finding his eyes drifting to your tattoo. Something about having his art on you permanently makes his heart swell with pride and happiness. And he and Hobie were both right.

It’s not the only “tattoo” that will become real.

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