#bc his smile is blinding me and i want to hold him so bad

[icharchivist]

it’s a “seeing pictures of any a3 characters and crying because they’re all so sweet and they grew so much and they genuinely bloomed into beautiful people inside out, and they’re having fun and a family and while Izumi is her own character the extension of her as a possible self insert really makes you feel as part of this family and the way they grew so now when i see those boys smile so brightly in way they never would have before my heart warms in ways i’ve never imagined possible, beaming with pride and happiness and love and i want to hold them so dearly” kind of evening

[boyfhee]

യ CRUSHED : PARK JONGSEONG TEASER

SYNOPSIS : fifteen years, a lost love, untold feelings, a breaking heart— crushed. they say if you wish desperately enough for something, the whole universe gets together to give it to you. perhaps, it's the reason why you find yourself back in your highschool, fifteen years ago, with a fluttering love, some lingering feelings, a doting heart, and your first heart break— park jongseong.

or wherein, life gives you another chance with your first love.

GENRE : fantasy, angst, romance, time travel

WC : teaser is 0.7k, est 10k+ for fic

WARNINGS : angst but with a happy ending guys trust me, a lot of mentions of crying, alcoholic drinks, more will be added in the main fic post

NOTES : i knew my jay era would give birth to a jay long fic i say we cheer :› NO BC THIS MAN IS SO FINE just like this fic i'm planning saur. please read. i hope u enjoy the teaser, send an ask / drop a comment to join the taglist

it’s the invitation you’ve been looking at for ten minutes now, standing outside the venue. papers coloured rose, golden letters engraved, names and air spilling with love. it’s the mood of the day, the flow of a typical august wednesday that carries you inside the venue, to the celebration hall. the air inside smells of fresh roses, it’s expected when you see a huge bunch used as decoration in every corner and on table tops. and then you look at the invitation again.

joo miran weds park jongseong.

your best friend weds your other best friend, your first best friend. your first crush. your first love.

the subtle silence in the air was deafening until you see jay sneaking into miran’s suit, or so you assume, although it’s true. from sneaking into her classes to sneaking into her room at night to take her out for a midnight date, sneaking across hallways to catch a glance— just one look, even a fraction of a second is enough— to now, sneaking around the wedding hall to savour that ‘just one look’ at the bride, his bride, as if a lifetime isn’t waiting for them. 

“i thought grooms and brides weren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding,” it’s your voice that stops jay from kissing her cheeks, although you know he would’ve still done it if he wanted to.

“ah well—” he rubs the back of his neck, it’s a habit that gives away his nervousness. habits are hard to change, let alone letting go of one. “do you really expect me to hold back when she looks like this?” and he looks at her as if she put the stars in the sky, or as if she’s a star herself, graced upon earth for him, and only for him. knowing jay, he would say it. 

“you look good too,” you look perfect, you wanted to say. however, you don’t. you don’t know why, it’s normal for friends to compliment each other. you don’t know how many times you’ve called him handsome, you don’t know the last time you called him that. “congrats, by the way,” 

and loving jay is a habit. 

“thanks,” she smiles, looking at you. “wouldn’t have been possible if not for you,”

it’s something you can’t get out of yourself. no amount of blind dates can do it for you, no amount of heartbreaks can colour him bad. 

“no really,” his voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you unconsciously smile a bit more. “thanks for setting me up with miran,” 

no amount of time can push you forward to move on from him. fifteen years, a lost love, untold feelings, a breaking heart— crushed. the world moved on, you did too, yet your heart is still there— gyeonggi suwon international school, fourth floor, the first class from the stairs. fourth desk, the one right next to the window, a view expanded across the school ground, a way for you to watch jay’s football matches between lessons. 

his heart is with someone else while yours is where you realised your feelings for him, left behind— crushed. 

and it’s a shame to live like this, as if there’s no point to life. to hold back tears at your best friends’ wedding, to force a smile when they kiss, to stare from a distance when she threw the bouquet, to cry in the washroom after all is done. head buried in your hands, muffled sobs as you hear a few women talk outside your stall. you don’t pay attention to them, you couldn’t. you had realised you couldn’t pay attention to anything that wasn’t him or about him. so you just sit there, head buried in hands, eyes closed, not paying attention to anything.

yn.

you hear your name. 

once.

yn?

twice.

“yn,” thrice. “are you okay?” and you turn around, it’s the same scenario— gyeonggi suwon international school, the fourth desk by the window, the sunlight falling upon. your eyes meet his, and then his smile. your best friend, your first best friend.

your first heartbreak.

“wanna get ice cream on our way back home?” you nod instinctively, habitually. it’s how things went fifteen years ago when you had realised your feelings for him. it feels the same, fluttering love, lingering feelings, a doting heart, and park jongseong.

crushed. 

[tvhsleb3ww]

LOVE IS NOT OVER! - OIKAWA TOORU

yeah i used a bts song as the title bc i ran out of ideas 🥴

summary, your blind date is your ex boyfriend from high school!?

minor swearing, praise (cute, hot, sexy), depression, heartbreak, tooru being dumb

read part 2 here!

now, there were plenty of beautiful women in Tokyo. millions! but why oh why did the universe hate him so much to the point they sent you as his blind date.

that's right. you. his ex. his first love, his high school sweetheart, his best friend and the same girl who stole his heart and stomped on it until it broke into a million pieces. it was simply unbelievable.

you turned him into a depressed man after you broke up with him because you thought it was better to go seperate ways. okay, maybe it was for the better because now he's a superstar volleyball player and now you're doing whatever. and he's one hundred percent sure that you're succeeding in whatever the hell you're doing because holy fuck do you look like a goddess right now.

of course, dating his ex was not written on his workbook. he never would go back to his exes. that he can swear he'd never do but right now he's starting to contemplate whatever mindset he has going on. in full honesty, he's still bitter and upset at you for dumping him due to stupid reasons. it has been years since you last saw each other.

Third Year of High School

" you're not even giving me a chance here! "

his voice broke as tears welled up in his eyes. his hands holding onto yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours. his lips remain a frown as he looked at you. you sighed and remain your gaze on him.

" tooru, it's not that like that "

he clicked his tongue at your words. bullshit. that's all he thinks right now. he lets go of his grip on your hands as he looked at you with glassy eyes. he bites down his bottom lip to control himself from actually breaking down in front of you.

" so, you're gonna give up on us? "

his question remains unanswered as you stayed quiet. he sighed, looks like he got his answer. you sighed and crossed your arms. you couldn't bare to look at him right now in his vulnerable state. you feel like you just got shot by a million arrows from how bad you're hurting him.

" i just think it's better if we go on our seperate ways"

back to the present, he didn't expect you. first of all, he didn't even want to go on this stupid blind date in the first place but his awful yet amazing friends kept pestering him to do this. saying that "you're too obsessed with volleyball get a life", blah blah blah. he just rolled his eyes to their statement but he still went.

so, it wasn't his friends' fault for setting him up with his ex. or is it?

both of you sat in silence for a whole minute inside the busy yet quiet café. both of you had ordered your drinks and tooru swears that his matcha latte is almost finished from how often he kept sipping it.

he quickly clears his throat before finally saying something.

"long time no see"

okay that did not sound as badass as he thought it was gonna be. it kinda sounded corny. he took a second to cringe at himself before looking at you. god, he wanted to curse the heavens because how dare they make him hate this amazing woman!?

from head to toe you're perfect. tooru would fight anyone who says the opposite. you got so much prettier in the last couple of years too. your hair, your eyes, your lips, your face, your ass-

that was a little overboard, he thought. he's not supposed to be thinking this! you broke his heart and he hates you!

" yeah, you look great "

god, he wanted to melt on the spot. the same voice that haunted his dreams for years. still so sweet and so good to listen to. he looks great? woah! does that mean you're complimenting him? what is great? his physique? his personality? he had to bite his bottom lip to cover his smile and remain his scowl.

" pfft- i know "

you rolled your eyes at his words. ah, tooru always as smug as he can be. but he did in fact looked great, he looked healthy and more muscular. indeed, seperation was better for both of you. of course you knew about his growth in the volleyball world, he was the talk of the year. based on the scowl on his face, you're sure he's still being petty about what happened between the two of you.

" i see that your ego is still bigger than your ass "

he gasped at that statement. his eyes narrowed down at you as he crossed his toned arms. he's gotten tan too from the Argentina sun. it's a good look on him, not gonna lie.

" at least, i didn't leave people at their lowest points "

touché but it was a terrible comeback. tooru has always been horrible at comebacks. it did however managed to shaken things up a little bit. you clicked your tongue and rolled her eyes. same old petty tooru.

" i'm sorry, alright? that was a long time ago "

" you don't seem sorry "

" at least i'm apologizing "

" yeah but years after that- "

you groaned loudly making him snicker. he always enjoyed driving you crazy. to him, it was cute to see you all fired up and he just likes to piss people off in general. he leans back on his chair as his gaze remains on you.

" so quickly agitated, (y/n) "

he commented making you huff and roll your eyes.

" you're still as annoying as you'll ever be "

" annoyingly hot you mean "

" maybe because you came from hell "

his smug grin falters and drops at your comeback. he scowls and huffs at your now smug expression. this interaction was gonna be interesting. you just wiggled your eyebrows at him to piss him off even further.

ugh, he hates you. he hates how sassy and teasing you can get. he hates the fact that he finds it cute and sexy at the same time. why is it so sexy when you put him in his place!?

he clears his throat again after a minute of whole silence.

" you know, i hate you right "

you sighed softly and rolled your eyes for what seems about the nth time now.

" and it's completely my fault, i know "

he wanted to say yeah it is. you're to blame for the heartbreak pain he felt for years.

after he flew away to Argentina, he couldn't sleep at night wondering about you, he devoted himself fully to his career because he didn't want to think about you, he tried going out with other women but they all just weren't you.

but right now, it's as if he wanted to push that ego away and forget everything that has happened in the past couple years and just grab your face and kiss you with everything he's got.

and he's not leaving this date until he does exactly that.

[panpanghost]

_"Happy birthday Wukong!" Macaque said smiling, waking his old buddy from his sleep.

_"Wha-" Wukong couldn't believe his eyes, how could he? He hasn't heard these words in decades. And that smell, oh that sweet gorgeous smell; the peach cake Macaque used to make him every year for his birthday. When was the last time he took a bite? He can't remember.

_"What? Did you think just because I lost my memory I'll forget your birthday?" Said Macaque jokingly.

Macaque can't remember anything that happened to him, the last thing he remembers is helping Wukong go to sleep after he came back from the celestial realm. He told Wukong red is his favorite color then Wukong started crying and he managed to get him to bed somehow... even that memory is a bit hazy.

But now, Macaque opened his eyes in a new bed with his body all sore and a blind eye. The weird black crown on his head was also stuck there, as if he doesn't have enough of things to worry about. But just because he's having a hard time doesn't mean he can't make new good times, like celebrating with Wukong.

_"How stupid of me to think that." Wukong answered with a smile trying to hold his tears back.

_"Are you ok?" Macaque asked softly with eyes filled with worry. He knows Wukong would jump at him and try to shove the entire cake in his mouth, but right now, Wukong is trying not to cry, that's nothing like him. Did something happen?

_"Of course I am! I'm better than ok! I'm great! Let's eat this baby already!"

_"Wukong." Macaque became serious, "Talk to me."

_"I-" Wukong took a second to look into Macaque's eyes. These beautiful eyes, the only ones that stare at him with so much love and adoration, he can feel them hugging him and sheltering him from the outside word.

He needed to talk but something in him was knitting his mouth shut every time he tried to speak. The same thing was begging him to lie and keep these wonderful feelings close.

_"It's ok," Macaque said and placed the cake on the counter then sat next to Wukong, "I'm right here." He held his hand and smiled, like he used to when Wukong would hurt himself and Macaque would stay by his side confronting him and tending to his wounds.

_"I-" Wukong needed to come up with a lie fast, what if he tells the truth and Macaque remembers everything, how would he look at him then? What if he disappears out of his life and never returns?

_"Yes?" Macaque asked,

_"There was a bad demon that hurt you last year, we weren't able to celebrate my birthday because you couldn't wake up. I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring it up."

_"It's alright." Macaque got closer and hugged Wukong, for some reason Wukong's hug was tighter than he remembers and it also lasted longer. Poor Wukong, he must've been really worried, Macaque will make it up to him this year. But... did Wukong just apologize? Also, was it the same demon that took his eye?

(I am bored, don't ask where this is going, idk either.)

edit: part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

edit 2: Here's some fluff bc I think you'll like it

[forever-rogue]

i mean 👀👀 agent whiskey is such a flirt i would probably die if he flirted with me he would have me the moment he opened his mouth. But also i could see him flirting with the nerdy lab assistant who he really likes but she thinks he isnt being serious bc of the amt of flirting he does on cases. (hes so attractive it hurts)

AN | No but the cowboy could flirt with me any time 🥺❤️

Pairing | Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | PP Characters, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You're going to give yourself a headache, sugar," the outside of his warm southern drawl caused you to almost jump out of your chair. You hadn't even heard him coming; he was incredibly stealthy but you knew that was just part of the job. You turned to him and offered a small smile, trying not to stare at his ridiculously handsome face, "staring at the computer too much and workin' entirely too hard."

"I, shit - Jack," immediately you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, "I didn't even hear you!"

"Well, I wouldn't be very good at my job if you did hear me," he teased, sitting on the edge of your desk, which caused you to have a mild freak out. You gave him a nervous, tight lipped smile before shrugging, "do you ever take breaks?"

"Sometimes," your cheeks warmed up as he tutted at you, "when time allows."

"I don't like that answer," he drummed his fingers along the top of the desk before quickly hopping off and holding his hand out to you. You stared at it as though it was some weird, foreign thing, "come on. I'm taking you to lunch."

No. Nope. Definitely not. You weren't sure if you'd be able to survive that. 

"Oh Jack," you shook your head and rolled your chair a little further away, "I can't. I'm… too busy."

"Hmm," he hummed softly but didn't pull his hand away, "I think you know by now that I am a stubborn man. And I don't usually take no for an answer."

"Jack…"

"Come on," he tilted his head towards the door and motioned for you to follow, "I'll even let you pick the place. I won't keep you for too long, sugar, I just want to make sure you've had something to eat and taken a well deserved break."

You stared at him for a few long seconds before slowly nodding. 

It wouldn't be too bad. Right? Right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So," you didn't like the sound of Ginger's tone at all. You knew it all too well. You froze as you poured your cup of coffee, "I heard you went out with Jack."

"Oh yeah, we - wait," you almost dropped the carafe, "what!? Ginger, what are you talking about?"

"I heard from Trish who heard from Christine that you and Jack went on a little date," there was a huge smirk on her face as you tried to process even what she was saying.

"Ginger. Ginger," you set everything down and turned to her, holding your hands up as an act of surrender, "you of all people know that you shouldn't listen to gossip!"

"Oh," she shrugged lightly and crossed her arms over her chest, "but you're not denying it."

"I - no!" You groaned heavily, "we didn't go out, Ginger. We…he came to my office and insisted that I needed a break and we went to grab lunch. It wasn't a date or anything."

"But you did go out," you opened and closed your mouth a few times, "you could have said no, right?"

"I…" you thought about it a few more moments, "but it's Jack. You know how persuasive he can be."

"Mhmm," she made her own coffee and turned her back to you. You sighed heavily, "of course he is. But he's also sweet on you."

"He is not," you sounded almost indignant but her words gave you a moment of pause. He wasn't, was he. No…he was just an openly flirty man. It wasn't just specifically with you…the idea was preposterous, "that's just how he is."

"Is it though?" She mused sweetly. You couldn't even be annoyed with her, she was too sweet for that, "listen, sweetheart, you're a scientist. You're incredibly intelligent but you're so blind. Open your eyes a little bit and then you'll have your answer."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked but she was gone and out of sight before you even finished your question, "Ginger?"

“Just Jack last time I checked,” oh maker. Of course the man in question had to have that perfect timing. You closed your eyes for a moment and let out a low breath. This was Jack after all, just another coworker. There didn’t have to be anything weird about it. The fact that you’d harbored a crush on him for as long as you’d been working was another thing entirely. Of non-import. Except that it was becoming an increasingly large problem that made it hard to be around him. Hell. Maybe this was worse than you had thought. 

“O-oh,” you pasted on the best smile you could muster up in that moment before turning back to the coffee that seemed to be the most interesting thing in the world, “hi.”

“Hey sugar,” he really had to have that warm, syrupy drawl didn’t he? It made your knees weak, “everything alright? You seem awfully jumpy.”

“Everything’s just fine,” you were a liar. Everything was most definitely not fine, “just needed a coffee break.”

“I’d suggest water,” he leaned against the counter and gave a lazy little half smile, “but I’m glad to see you’re taking a break at least.”

“Mhmm,” a tightlipped smile was thrown his way, “had to stop staring at my screen for a while.”

“Well good,” he reached over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. His touch was electric and sent shivers down your spine and butterflies to explode in your tummy, “listen, I was wondering if-”

“I’ve gotta go,” you took a step out of the room and away from him, “I’ve got a lot to do.”

Jack watched as you almost ran away back to your office. He shook his head fondly and decided that he would check in on you later. There was no reason for him to scare you off now; everything would happen in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks it seemed like you saw Jack everywhere you went. Whether or not it was intentional it was starting to drive you crazy. The man took up enough of your mind already, he didn’t need to be the only thing on it. Any time you weren’t actively thinking about something else, the cowboy took over your thoughts. It almost wasn’t fair. 

This particular evening you were positive you were the last one left in the building. There were just a few things you needed to finish up and you hadn't planned on being there too much longer.

That’s why when you heard the footsteps coming from down the hall, your brain went into fight or flight mode. You grabbed the nearest thing that you thought could serve as a weapon and clutched it tightly. Padding over to the door, you hid just out of sight and waited for the intruder to come in. 

You held your breath as you got ready to attack and as soon as you the person walked through the door, you jumped and yelled at them. He was startled in response but you quickly realized that it wasn’t just any intruder…it was Jack. Of course.

Sighing heavily, you lowered your arms and took a step back, “what the hell, Jack?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Me?” he asked, eyes wide and incredulous, “you’re the one brandishin’ a beaker at me!”

“It was all I could find!”

“Did you really think that little thing was going to protect you?” his surprise quickly turned into amusement as you eyed the glass in your hand.

“I dunno,” you set it back down and took a step back, “it was just…the moment. What are you even doing here?”

“Working,” he put his hands on his waist as he was prone to doing, “what about yourself, sugar?”

“Working,” you echoed softly, “I was just getting ready to leave in a few minutes.”

“Funny,” he offered you the sweet smile that you found hard to resist, “I was going to do the same thing."

"Funny," you agreed meekly although you definitely did not think it was funny. This was Jack after all…he didn't do things without purpose, "well, I guess I'll let you get back to it."

"Listen," he paused in the doorway but you'd already turned around, face contorting into a grimace, "would you want to stop for a bite to eat?"

You had a feeling this was coming but it didn't stop the clench of your shoulders that you just knew he could see, "umm, I'm okay. Thank you for offering though."

"You got any plans tonight?" He strode back over, determined as ever. Even though you were anxious as hell, you couldn't deny that his gentle persistence was making you melt, "darlin'."

"N-not really," you admitted, side-eyeing him sneakily, "just stuff and things."

"Stuff and things," he repeated and you nodded. He huffed lightly before hesitantly reaching over and putting a finger under your chin. When you didn't pull out of his touch, he brought your face up to his, "is there a reason you're avoiding me?"

"N-no," you lied weakly as he tutted in disbelief. You caught his eye for a moment before swallowing thickly, "you make me nervous." 

You weren't even entirely sure if you'd meant to say it out loud but there it was. No going back now. His eyes widened for a minute before he nodded, "is there a particular reason why? Have I ever done or said anything to make you feel that way? If so, I greatly apologize-"

"You haven't done anything wrong," you quickly stopped him and shook your head fervently, "its just…you."

"Me?" He was bemused and you were floundering. How very typical.

"Yes," you sighed lightly, "you're all great and wonderful and lovely and I feel like if I go out with you're just going to be even better and I'll fall in love! But it won't be the same for you because you don't like me like that, you're just flirty with everyone."

"Hold on a minute there, sugar," he pushed back a few locks of stray hair out of your face, watching you intently, "you're going a million miles a minute."

"Jack-"

"There is some truth to what you've said," he agreed, "but a lot of falsehoods too."

"Oh. Oh?"

"I don't expect you to fall in love with me," he whispered, "at least not yet. But in case you haven't noticed, which I see now you did not, I am sweet on you. I like to think I'm nice to everyone, most people anyway, but that's often mistaken for flirtation. However this old cowboy ain't got eyes for anyone but you."

Surely your mind was manifesting this. Maybe you'd fallen asleep at your desk and were in the middle of a fever dream. But….no. you definitely felt him brush his knuckles along your cheek before he traced his thumb along your bottom lip.

"Seriously?" You cringed as soon as you blurted out your question, "me?"

"Mhmm," he hummed softly, "I'm not forcing you into anything - and if you prefer for me to leave you alone completely let me know - but I'd love to have the honor of taking you to dinner."

"Like a date?" Scientist who? Clearly you were a wordsmith.

"Not just like a date but an actual date," he agreed, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth and displaying his dimple, "tonight can be casual but perhaps this weekend you'd let me do this all properly."

"Okay," your answer came out softly and easily, causing your face to warm up and his to light up brighter than the sun. It wasn't really even a question; you liked Jack a lot…you'd just never thought he could feel the same. And yet here you were.

"You're thinking much too loudly, darlin'," he chuckled as you blinked owlishly, "wanna tell me what's on your mind?"

"I sure will," he really did have the loveliest smile, "but I'd like to take you out first. I want to do this thing right."

"Will you kiss me?" Ugh. You were definitely crawling into a hole and never leaving.

"Wow," he was just too dreamy.

"Wow yourself," he teased affectionately, "now what do you say we get out of here?"

"Yes," every fiber of your being was humming with excited energy, "please."

"Well come on then, sugar," he took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Swoonworthy, that's what he was, "ain't got no time to waste!"

Yeah. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[eldritch-nightmare]

Had smth in mind based on those Jeff Headcannons you did,,,,,What about The Doll Maker or Bloody Painter(or both idk I’m indecisive) yandere Headcannons but with a willing reader,,,Thought abt that while listening to Ayesha Erotica, idk how

a/n: your wish is my command. going with the bloody painter since i haven't really written much for him here yet. this one got away from me a bit. sorry if it's messy, but i hope you find enjoyment from it nonetheless <3

yandere bloody painter with a willing s/o.

warnings: gn!reader, yandere content, puppeteer cameo bc why not, crush at first... smile?, reader goes to an art school, reader has some questionable morals, stalking, possessive behavior, murder, blood, breaking and entering, the public nor authorities doesn't know that helen is the bloody painter in this btw, morbid painting, a brief description of gore, idk art so sorry if i describe it incorrectly.

Oh, man. I can see him behaving in two different ways. One is the way he'd behave around you if you were there in his childhood and the other is if he met you after everything happened. For this, we'll focus on how he behaves after everything happened.

Helen is very emotionally reserved and pretty apathetic, to be honest with you. It's very difficult to get close to him. I like to think that you two met while he was getting some more art supplies.

He saw you struggling to pick between two paints and, being the artist that he is, he decided to do something a little nice for once and help you out.

And, a little bit to his surprise, that led to a rather lengthy conversation about art as you detailed to him the art project you were working on and how you really weren't sure what direction you wanted to take it because the prompt given to you didn't give you any ideas.

And as we all know, Helen is nothing if not an artist. So, obviously, he listens to every little detail you provide him and offers some advice that may help you out before you two go your separate ways.

And--

Huh. Why'd his chest suddenly feel all warm at the sight of your smile?

He finds himself drawing your smiling face later, thinking that maybe the warm feeling in his chest was just a random burst of inspiration. I mean, he is an artist after all. Inspiration tends to strike at the most random times.

His dear friend seems to think otherwise.

"Aw, does Helen have a little crush?" -> "If you don't have anything of value to say, then please keep your mouth shut."

He doesn't have a crush on you. Not that he knows what it's like to have a crush, I mean he's never been in love before, but he doesn't. No way.

Then he sees you again, and damn. I guess The Puppeteer was right. He does have a crush. Oh well. He accepts this revelation immediately and comes to terms with this newfound feeling rather quickly.

It's just a small crush, one that he's sure will go away soon. But he's never felt this way before, and the feeling leaves him curious, so he finds himself actively seeking you out.

He doesn't consider it to be stalking at first, just... studying. But then he follows you home one day, and he realizes that maybe these feelings of his aren't as small as he thought they were.

Does he feel bad for stalking you? I think, momentarily, he questions why he's doing this but... he's not a great guy in the first place. He does kill people and use their blood as paint, after all.

And you're aware that someone is watching you. You can feel eyes on you most nights. You should be scared, you know that, but... for some reason, you don't. If anything, you start leaving your blinds open more often.

Helen will sometimes even sketch you while he watches you. The way you hold yourself and the way you move around... it just makes him want to capture every moment he can in his sketchbook. He even briefly considers picking up photography as a hobby the longer he watches you, but he decides to just stick with his own form of art.

But he really likes it when he gets to see you make your own art.

And that's when he breaks into your home for the first time. You were out with some friends, and when you came home, you noticed your door was unlocked. At first, you didn't really think much of it, but when you went to your room, you couldn't help but feel as if something were off.

It took you a while, but you soon discovered that some of your drawings were missing. Thankfully, none of the ones you drew for class were missing.

You had no means of contacting your stalker, which you suppose is a good thing, so instead you just wrote on a piece of paper and taped it to your window.

'Glad you like my drawings.'

And the next day, taped on the outside of your window was a little doodle of a smiley face.

You didn't give this odd relationship much thought, to be honest. You thought it was kinda cute that this random stranger seemed to derive some type of joy from watching you. He hasn't done anything to hurt you, and his intentions don't seem malicious, so you honestly had no problem with it.

Of course, your friends definitely thought it was weird. They think that you need to report your stalker to the police, but you choose to ignore their concerns. You reassure them that if you ever feel as if you're life is in any danger, you'll inform the authorities about what's happening.

So, it goes on like this for a while. Helen would mostly stick to watching you from afar, but sometimes he'd break into your place while you're sleeping just to get a closer look at you. Sometimes, you'll wake up and there will be a drawing of you on your nightstand. You keep those drawings tucked away safely in one of the many empty sketchbooks you own.

Then a... domino effect of sorts took place.

You started going to a new café since it was closer to where you lived and closer to the school you attended. -> There's a cute barista there who always flirts with you whenever you buy a coffee or get yourself a treat. -> You humored their behavior because you thought it was cute, so you would flirt back sometimes. -> It became routine, and a couple weeks into the routine, the barista just up and vanished.

You thought they had quit, but you overheard some of the other employees at the café whispering about how they hadn't heard anything from them.

Something that should have been completely unrelated, you lose your red paint. You can't find it anywhere.

Continuing on with the domino effect, a day or two goes by and you hear on the news that the barista you had been flirting with was found dead in their home, drained dry of their blood. The police believe this to be another victim of The Bloody Painter.

You wouldn't have thought much of it, but then you notice a note taped to your window.

'There's a gift for you in your kitchen.'

And when you went to your kitchen, you saw a container resting on the counter. It wasn't translucent or see-through, so you couldn't see inside of it, but there was another note resting on top of it.

'I saw you were out of red paint, so I got you some more. We should meet up this week and paint together, don't you think? I'd love to see what you can create with this.'

And the note wasn't signed with a smiley face this time. It was signed with a name.

Helen Otis.

You set the note to the side and one quick look inside the container told you that he had given you blood to use as paint.

It didn't take you long to piece together what was going on here. The blood he had given you was no doubt the blood of the barista who had been murdered, which means... your stalker was that serial killer that's been all over the news these past few months.

The person who has been breaking into your home and leaving you those drawings was a serial killer. And he... he trusted you enough to tell you his name?

Holy shit, that's a lot to take in.

You should be panicking. Hell, you should be calling the police to let them know about all of this. You'd be doing the world some good if you did that, and it would save a lot of lives.

But your gaze drifts back to the note, and your mind wanders to all the drawings he's made of you, and... this was just so...

Cute. It felt romantic, even.

He killed a person you had been flirting with and gave you their blood as a gift. That has to be his way of letting you know that you were his.

You didn't even think about what you were going to do. You took the container of blood and you took it to your room. It didn't take you long to set up a tarp on the ground since it was no doubt going to drip onto your floor and you really didn't need blood stains in your carpet.

And you searched up a reference of what you wanted to paint, and you immediately got to work.

Later that night, while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, Helen was breaking into your home for the nth time.

The reason why is because you had left a note for him to see on your window, one that had certainly caught his attention.

There's a gift for you in the kitchen.

You've never left him a gift before, so his curiosity was certainly piqued.

He made sure to be quiet as he made his way to your kitchen, not wanting to wake you up. He wasn't ready to meet you. Not yet.

When he gets to your kitchen, he certainly wasn't really expecting to see a canvas resting on the counter, a white sheet covering whatever was painted on it. A sticky note was placed on the sheet as well, and Helen stepped closer to it to read it.

This is what it looked like, right?

p.s. I'm willing to take you up on that offer.

And on the corner of the sticky note, there was a small smiley face doodle. How cute.

With the note read, Helen wasted no time carefully removing the sheet from the canvas, a subtle excitement coursing through his veins.

And... oh. Oh, you're as fucked up as him, aren't you?

What he sees is a downright devastatingly beautiful piece of work.

The painting was completely done with just the blood he had given you, with a few pencil marks for shading, and it depicted the murder he had committed just a few days prior.

He imagines that it was rather easy to find a photo of the crime scene online, but you were somehow able to capture the scene perfectly and you weren't ever there.

From the way the body was hanging upside down from the ceiling, a few buckets underneath it to collect the blood dripping from it. The way lifeless look in their eyes that you had done with a pencil... the gashes all over their body...

You had passed the test he had set up for you.

He took this as a sign of acceptance. A sign that you wanted to be his. You wouldn't keep the blood and make such a masterpiece with it if you didn't, right?

A slight smile formed on his face at the thought, and he stood there and admired the art you had made for him.

Hmm... maybe he'll stick around until you wake up...

[causenessus]

binary stars

part 0.5. EQUIPMENT ROOM

NOW PLAYING . . . no other heart by mac demarco

iwaizumi opened the door for them as they arrived.

“how’s he holding up?” hanamaki asked, stepping in first. him and matsukawa both had their usual relaxed faces, with small smiles on their lips. sure, a part of them were worried for their friend's wellbeing but overall they were finding his struggles stupidly entertaining.

“he’s got his head in his hands, grabbing his hair like he’s gonna tear it out but he would never actually do it. not much else,” iwaizumi shrugged, closing the door behind them.

when they saw him, his knees were pulled to his chest and he stared blankly at the wall.

“damn, you messed up that bad?” matsukawa took a seat next to him.

oikawa only curled up into a tighter ball, hiding his face, “yes.”

“you wanna tell us what happened? maybe we can help,” hanamaki offered, sitting on the floor along with iwaizumi so that the four formed a small circle.

“she found out i liked someone and when she asked who i said i couldn’t tell her like an idiot,” oikawa answered. “i want to dig myself a hole and never come out.”

matsukawa and hanamaki shared a look while iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “how’d she find out?” hanamaki asked.

“bokuto said something about it,” iwaizumi answered.

“and now i’m doomed,” oikawa lamented, finally lifting his head up, “how do i come back from this? even if she did like me a little bit before this, now i’ve made it seem like i like someone else and that i don’t trust her.”

iwaizumi only shook his head. he'd already heard all of this before, from both oikawa and y/n.

“she’s not going to give up that easy. you’ve been close friends with her for years, give her a little more credit. and you need to not give up this easy,” iwaizumi said, staring oikawa dead in the eyes.

“yeah, you can still amend this, and you better. try spending more time with her, and act normal with her, or flirt, you’re always doing that with other girls,” hanamaki suggested.

“that’s because i don’t care about them,” oikawa ran his hands through his hair with a sigh, “it’s all fake when i flirt, but when i’m with her, i’m just all open with my feelings, you know? i can’t flirt when i’m like that, and even if i do, what if she thinks i’m just toying with her? that’s even worse.”

“well then, it sounds like you really like her,” matsukawa caught oikawa’s gaze, “do you want to tell her or not? if you’re serious about this, then that’s more reason to fix this. make her know that things are normal between you guys, which will show her that you’re still comfortable with her. then, get closer to her.”

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

at certain times iwa gets so fed up and is on the verge of saying things like "OFC SHE FUCKING TEXTED ME ABOUT WHAT YOU FUCKING TEXTED HER SHE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU YOU BLIND ASSWIPE" but he knows if he says anything like that he'll just get "oh that can't be 🥺 she would never like me blah blah woe is me" and has just given up 

when tooru texted y/n she saw what he had texted her a few days ago again which only continued to make her feel conflicted about how he was treating her

tooru genuinely cannot and will never flirt with yn bc he wants to be all sweet and honest with her he never wants to even act like he's toying with her

hinata is begging takeda and kiyoko for another practice match with seijoh bc he wants to see y/n again <3

taglist: @anonnreader777 @daisy-room @deluluforcarlos55 @eggyrocks @hikikaimar @httpakkeiji @intergalacticrory @localgaytrainwreck @mitfloya @reallyvexin @sunarins @usermins @yenonnoff @wyrcan (form to be added to taglist <3)

[divine-misfortune]

cancelling the rest of my plans for the day bc your fleshlight post about phantom has me on the floor and I can NOT get up

The post in question :))

Dew stares up at him through those pale eyelashes. A look that could have been soft, innocent. Should have been. No, Dew was watching him with the attentiveness of a hungry dog despite everything else about him being relaxed. At ease. Something Phantom was far from.

Face still colored with humiliation, Dew only sought to deepen the violet in his cheeks - he wanted his embarrassment to be vivid, the closest thing to tangible he could get.

The fire ghoul kept his fingers curled around the hard plastic regardless of his little mewls of protest. Slowly rocking it back and forth, just enough to tug at his knot (but more so to remind him of how pathetic it was to be trapped in fucking fleshlight) and let a little bit of his cum dribble out. There had been the beginnings of a wet spot on the front of his pants to begin with, a little overzealous with lube, but it was growing to become far more noticeable.

Dew smiled up at him with the faintest hint of teeth as Phantom's nails dug into the couch cushions, another sound of objection starting to bubble up but Dew hushed him before it found its way to the surface.

"Just helping bug," he shifted onto his knees. "Wanna make sure you're properly taken care of."

His pale hair slipped from where it had been tucked behind his ear as he dipped his head, forked tongue flicking out to grace where skin and silicone met. Phantom screwed his eyes shut and tried not to buck upwards at the warmth of Dew's exhale. Breath audibly hitching when he was given more, he didn't know if it was too much or not enough. It was something and he couldn't wrap his mind around it, or anything for that matter. His brain was still fuzzy, had been since he'd first popped the head of his cock into the toy now serving as a means of torture, but Dew was steadily pushing him towards having straight up static in his skull with every little movement.

When Dew kissed over his sack in an oddly sweet gesture before taking one of his balls into his mouth, it was decidedly too much. Phantom sounded wounded with his cry and Dew let out a pleased sound in response. Little vibrations to accompany the languid caress of his tongue and Phantom's eyes were nearly crossing.

"Dew - Dew, fuck, you gotta-"

He pulled off with a satisfying pop that left the little ghoul sagging into the couch.

"I know baby, i know" the sympathy in his voice was just honey masking the medicine. "Your balls still feel so full, must hurt so bad."

"Wh..." he blinked slowly, brows drawing together.

Dew tutted at him and got off the floor, finding a new home straddling his lap. Phantom couldn't help that his hands automatically went to place on his waist, his blind obedience earned him a soft chuckle. Holding the toy steady in one hand, the other came to cup his jaw and turn his face upwards before Dew kissed him.

It was no longer a gentle push towards that far away headspace, more like a full-on shove when Dew's tongue slipped into his mouth. He could taste himself, kinda salty but heady all the same, mixed with something floral lingering in the other ghoul's mouth. Kinda reminded him of Mountain's breakfast teas. Familiar and the last solid thing he could hope to latch onto to not slip entirely, but that lasted as long as it took for Dew to start shifting the toy again.

Phantom moaned into his mouth, allowing Dew to lick that much deeper. There was a bit more give to the toy now, his knot deflating slowly, slower than he'd like but too quick for Dew's liking.

He pulled back and Phantom found himself sitting there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, fixated on the string of saliva connecting them up until it broke.

"Gonna help you feel good," Dew's thumb stroked his jaw. "Make my good boy feel good, doesn't that sound nice?"

"But...'M sensitive."

"Just sensitive cause you didn't do a good enough job, silly boy."

"I-I didn't?"

Dew shook his head and tsked. Phantom's ears pinned back at his apparent disappointment but still twitched at the slick sound of the fleshlight stroking over him. The immediate discomfort of overstimulation felt further off but still around the corner, it wouldn't take much for the pinpricks of agonizing pleasure to dig into him again.

"I'm just gonna take care of you, get that knot nice and fat so nothing spills out."

His eyes fluttered when Dew's thumb pushed between his lips, heavy head dropping against the back of the couch with a groan. Dew had found an unfortunately efficient motion. Like a more complicated handjob in a way, stroking, twisting as soon as he felt resistance to his pull. Effectively milking him for everything he had - and Dew planned on taking everything he had to give. He could feel the last of the blood in his head rushing towards his cock. Traitorously staying fat and continuing to ache, his knot threatening to swell again, Dew had more control of his body than he did.

"Wanna see you fuck this pretty little pussy full."

[teenandbeyond]

Loki x M. Magician Reader

I don't why this came to my brain 😭 Did it come out well? Let me know if you want a full love story flashback with...hmm...50 hearts? I don't think that's too bad.

Want more from me? Master list II

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Love Archive (Marvel)

Warning(s): Fluff, kinda long, slight angst bc past Loki, Ragnarök, Reader is stuck with insanely long life, Exes (ouchies), Smut (but not graphic and will leave warning when time)

You and Loki were in love once, then it fell apart...Only to see each other again over 200 years later...only to be forced to save the universe together...fun...

✨✨✨✨✨

"[Name]! Is it truly you?"

With furrowed brows, you turn to be blinded by a bright grin.

Yeah, you had no idea who this bulking blonde was.

"Who are you, sir?"

He chuckled, running a hand through his short hair, "Right, you wouldn't know me. You knew my brother, Loki. Correct?"

Hearing that name still strangely brought warmth to your heart.

But how...?

"How do you know of me?"

"Ah!...I might've...followed Loki once and saw you. He doesn't know."

With a huff of amusement, you cross your arms. So this was Thor. Loki often spoke of him.

So you knew he was nosey.

"And what do you need from me?

"I saw you fight. Earlier."

"That was only but a correction."

You were a type of security on Grandmaster's planet, but because you were a pretty boy, people liked to test you.

Let's just say that was a mistake.

"Well, I'd like you to join my team. I need a fighter such as yourself."

"Team?"

"Yes, the Revengers!"

"Re...ven?"

"Yes, a team of those who want revenge against the world and this place."

You didn't have anything in particular you wanted revenge over, but...you were a bored old man.

"Sure. Sounds fun."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, where do we start? How many members are there?"

"Ah...less than five?"

"Oh, dear."

☆: .｡. .｡.:☆☆: .｡. .｡.:☆

So much happened in less than an hour. You met a socially awkward scientist that Thor swore could transform into a monster, but the man stayed a man. Until...he wasn't?

You were confused.

Even as a half-human yourself, you found humanity weird.

And then, after doing a little...ah...clearing of obstacles, you were told to come to a familiar room.

You could hear conversation on the other end as you knocked the random code Thor had given to you.

And the door opened...he was there. Restrained, but there.

Loki.

And he froze in place, just as you did.

He looked like a deer in headlights, guilt you didn't understand riddled his face.

You smiled, "Hello. It's been a while."

"Ah--Yes, hello. It has."

The silence was heavy with a story that slowly bared itself from the archives.

"They definitely know each other," Bruce observed.

"Obviously," Valkyrie, one of your coworkers, deadpanned.

That was an understatement.

1800s Britain, that's when you met him.

You were 26 at the time, but you'd long discovered magic and the inhuman part of your lineage.

Loki could smell the magic on you, he was drawn to that and your quiet charm.

You mostly kept to yourself, a bit soft-spoken, you weren't brutish like many men were at the time.

And in a short span of time, he realized just how easy it was to talk to you.

You were understanding, you always listened. And you loved no matter what.

That's all he'd ever wanted.

Someone to just smile and say, "I love you, I'm listening."

Someone to hold him when he wanted to cry.

Someone who made him feel like he belonged.

Someone who could kiss him like he was their world.

And you were his.

But one day, it hit him. He wasn't good enough for you.

So he left, and what broke his heart even more?

You understood. There were no hard feelings.

But ever since that day, he'd wished you had been selfish, wished you'd disregarded his words and kept him close.

And now here you were, over 200 years later.

One of you still felt a warm love.

And the other was filled with guilt, having taken out that regret on others for years.

"So, how have you been?" Loki forces the words out instead of keeping the silence that was admittedly getting awkward for everyone else.

Oh, it hurts that you still smile at him so warmly. Why couldn't you at least pretend you hated him?

"I've been alright. Mostly travelling. You?"

"Ah--Well, mostly mischief."

"That's a given."

"Any, uh...Did you ever have a...?" How did he ask?

You nodded, "Yeah. For a while, I tried again. But mortals, you know, they die. So...after that, I decided I'd save myself from losing anyone again."

Then Loki took in what was around your neck, and his heart warmed at the sight.

You'd kept it. The ring he gave you, the promise ring that held a false promise of forever.

To him, it was a failed promise.

To you, it was a devotion of love. One you could never get rid of.

Even after all this time, you could say, without hesitation, you still loved him.

Even when you learned he'd tried to betray Thor as you tried to escape this forsaken planet.

He still arrived to save the day when it was needed.

And he was still there to guard you as you struggled to heal the wound of Hela.

And you were there for him as he mourned the home that never felt like home in his heart, but still belonged to him.

The father that never felt like home, but still belonged to him.

There was so much pain weighing on his shoulders.

He just needed to wash it away.

Scrub it away.

No, it needed to burn like the flames that had engulfed Asgard.

And you were the only person who could ever burn things away, even if just for a little while.

"Please. I don't want to think."

"I understand."

You always understood.

You understood that he didn't want words, not now. You did well enough at that.

He wanted warmth.

[NSFW]

His mind began to blank out the moment your lips trailed down his skin.

"I want to burn it all, [Name], can you do that?"

"I'll utterly engulf you. As much as you want. Wherever you want, my love."

It wasn't long before you had his skin scorching, flushed, and red.

He gasped for breaths between kisses as you got so close you were one.

He left thin, hot trails of red down your back, your sides.

And when he wanted the control, you relinquished it.

And by Odin---perhaps it was improper to say that, a habit--you were utterly beautiful beneath him, too.

He felt flattered to know he's the only one who's ever had you in this way.

The only one to have you vulnerable for a change.

Once again. Loki was realizing...

He was a fool, an absolute fool...for putting your love in the archives.

[inaflashimagine]

Did someone say a Nagumo fic? I would like to see it 🤲🏽

ask and you shall receive (pasting 2k below bc i'm unhinged)

–

You’re considering poisoning the vice principal of JCC.

It’s still in the planning phase, of course. But the true challenge, if this impossible task were to ever be achieved, would lie in the execution portion. Before leaving the airtight rooms of the laboratories, all students in the poisons department must properly discard any concoctions they’ve made in the fume hood (and any other chemicals that require extra care in their disposal are handled by the 24/7 toxic waste team). As many faculty in the department often repeat during their classes, the greatest poisons a student could ever make are arrogance and ignorance. For that reason alone, anything made for off-campus assignments is safely stored by lab managers in the school’s securely locked freezer until they must be given out.

Not to mention that every poisons professor also practices their due diligence by constantly updating the school chemicals inventory, which includes keeping track of the approved materials and poison recipes that students can take out of an extensive library of hazardous reagents, toxic substances, and highly coveted venoms.

That doesn’t mean that students haven’t tried to outsmart faculty or find a loophole in the system. Third-year Tanaka Kaito thought sneaking out with the tiny glass bottle containing his newest poison inside his mouth was a smart choice; and it might’ve been, if he hadn’t tripped over the lab assistant’s foot, which, coincidentally, happened to be in his way. Peers smarter than him have managed to avoid ruptured intestines or chemically burnt mouths, but considering these individuals–of which there are many–still fail and end up being expelled, stealing such precious items is not a risk many in your department are willing to take.

You understand the delicate position JCC is placed in when students break the institutional rules; since the JAA requires any poisons that are used by assassins or during non-educative assignments to be manufactured by those with a toxicology license, it makes sense that the JCC would adopt the most stringent guidelines to avoid a bad reputation.

Still. It doesn’t hurt to dream–or at least, you can’t get expelled for wishful thinking.

Besides, you have to find some way to pass the time in this dreadful class.

“Who are you thinking about killing this time?”

You blink, your eyes falling on the person who interrupted your delusions. The one who makes this class even more agonizing than should be tolerable.

“What makes you think I want to kill someone?” Flipping over the pages of your notebook to a blank one, you begin to scribble today’s course topic and can’t help but note the irony of you desperately wanting Ito-sensei to enter the room so he can start your least favorite class.

The Art of Espionage: For Intermediate Learners

From your periphery, you can see your dark-haired classmate leaning back into his desk chair as he deftly twirls a pocket knife in his hand, unfazed that all of his weight is balanced by one precious metal leg. He laughs lightly at your question, but it’s difficult to catch any mirth that follows it. “I always assumed only assassins carry bloodlust, but you proved me wrong. Though I guess I should’ve seen it coming.” His smile widens, a hint of smugness tugging the corner of his lips as he points the blade toward you like he’s just pointing a finger in your direction and not a potentially lethal weapon. “The ones in the poisons department do love holding grudges.”

You don’t know what others see in Nagumo. Sure, he’s objectively attractive–it would be stupid to argue that fact, and you’re not blind. And yeah, he’s one of the top second-year candidates in the intelligence-gathering department (though there are rumors of him wanting to transfer to the assassin program)–that’s not a surprise for someone who comes from a prominent family of spies, even if it is quite funny that the tidbit is well-known despite everything else about him being shrouded in the largest cloud of mystery…

…but any of those appealing characteristics seem to be thrown out the window the moment he begins to talk. And boy, does he talk.

“See, if I didn’t know any better,” he speaks up, yet again, eyes closed into half crescents as he cheerily jokes, “that annoyed look on your face says you wanna kill me!”

“Well, if you must know, you’re the third on the list. The first person is the vice principal for not switching me into another class.”

Each semester all JCC students must enroll in one class that falls outside the curriculum for their major. This is to ensure that their graduates are competent in all skills that they may need to succeed on the field or in the lab, even if it is unlikely they’d employ every skill on a daily basis. Since the best assassins, spies, weapons makers, and poison experts in the world are adept at rapidly adapting to different situations, it makes sense that the JCC would implement such a rule for their students. But that doesn’t mean you have to enjoy following said rules.

Your first semester at JCC wasn’t too bad. Technically, only third years can matriculate in poisoning classes–though there are a few introductory courses and practicums you can take starting your second year–so you’ve grown well accustomed to enrolling in classes that are beyond the usual chemistry and physics gambit. And since all students are allowed to rank their top choice electives, you were fortunate enough to get the History of Weapon Craft and Creation (considered one of the easier electives for those outside the weapons fabrication department). 

The semester after, you barely passed Firearm Handling & Defensive Training, but at least that class improved your aim with the laser guns in the cafeteria, meaning getting less of those horrid JCC bowls. Yet your luck quickly ran out at the start of the second year, as this semester you now find yourself to be the only poisons department student in a room filled with good-looking, downright intimidating, and incredibly sharp intelligence-gathering students.

You have no idea how you were even allowed to take a class with prerequisites that are nested in the intelligence-gathering department, but your grievances fell on the deaf ears of administrative staff who didn’t even apologize for the scheduling mishap. (Then again, these are the same people who don’t bat an eye when students in the assassin department are gravely injured and even die during an assignment or in the middle of class. It’s no shocker that the second-year class size has considerably dwindled from last year.)

With all other courses being full, your choice was to stick to this option or switch to Martial Arts & Tactical Hand-to-Hand Combat for Advanced Learners. Even if you can’t avoid your fear of looking like an idiot in front of Japan’s future spies, you can at least evade the terror of literally dying by the hands of the country’s strongest assassins-in-training (you heard Sakamoto Taro was a killing machine, a fact you would be happy to simply believe rather than test out for yourself).

However, your earlier fears have now evolved into a living nightmare after Ito-sensei announced that everyone would be assigned a partner to work on assignments together throughout the semester. You didn’t know who Nagumo was until your roommate Asami gasped at the mere mention of him (which isn't even his full legal name! What is he, Prince?). Banging your head against the wall might be a more pleasant experience than having to hear her complain–for the umpteenth time–that you get to learn from such a ‘genius’.

Admittedly, it's only been a few weeks into the semester, but you're still having trouble identifying the genius part.

“Wow, how scary! I’m terrified!” Nagumo sounds anything but after hearing your empty death threat. “Who’s the second?”

“None of your business.”

“Aw, don’t be like that! Do I know them?”

You think about it for a second, drawing the potential lines forming the network before shaking your head. “Well, actually, yes. Because congrats, you’ve just been bumped up to #2.”

He grins at that, big eyes crinkling. “See, now that’s a better response! But wait, am I third–”

“Second, now…”

“–right, second on the list because I forgot to do my part of the presentation? I swear I meant to get to it, but I got carried away with an outside mission.”

Genius? More like a lazy piece of shit, you think bitterly, eyes squinting at him to scrutinize what he’s hiding under those large dark eyes and that apparently innocuous grin. Of course, because you suck at intelligence-gathering, you come up with nothing other than a pathetic, “Stop lying, you sucky liar.”

The corners of his lips droop a bit further down than usual, but he still manages to adopt that customary smile of his and waits for another beat. Fully aware that the silence and staring make you uncomfortable.

“About the mission or getting the work done?”

“Both.”

“You’re funny!”

“See what I mean about the lying?”

The chair he’s sitting on instantly lands on all four, the harsh sound of pegs scratching the linoleum floors making you startle against your better judgment. One hand rests on his chin as he raises a brow at you, clearly amused. “But really, why would I lie about either part? If it makes you feel any better, I’ll make sure we get top marks on today’s presentation.”

You only have enough time to offer your exasperated sigh as an answer, since Ito-sensei finally walks in and announces the start of today’s presentations.

“Good afternoon everyone, apologies for my tardiness as a meeting went over. In preparation for your first exam next week, each group will be reviewing a different fundamental skill for carrying out espionage. First tactic: seduction.”

When you hear your name and Nagumo’s being called out, your suddenly heavy legs slowly drag their way to the front of the room, already anticipating to make a fool of yourself with your half-assed presentation on how to seduce a target, a skill all these students staring at you in boredom more than likely have performed a thousand times before.

Straightening your posture, you’re ready to begin your long unnecessary speech on the purpose of seduction until Nagumo yawns. Loudly.

The action has you momentarily pause, soft tittering spreading throughout the classroom until you narrow your eyes at your beaming partner, clear your throat, and continue.

“Seduction can be used as a weapon when the person employs the technique to obtain an objective, as seen in–"

“This demo we’re about to show!” Nagumo cuts in, waving his hands animatedly as if about to introduce a mesmerizing performing act. Your confusion only continues to grow as he sharply turns on his heel to face you, bewildered to see that his usual bright smile has been replaced with a more coquettish expression on his face.

“What are you–”

“The word seduction means to ‘lead astray’ in Latin. Doing such a thing means you have to observe your target’s every move. How they move. How they look at you. At others. At their surroundings.” Every step he takes forward means you take one step back. Until you find yourself hitting the wall, your eyes widening with how cold it feels against the back of your neck. “How they react. How they respond to you.”

He doesn’t even have you pinned, his arms laying idly by his sides while you dumbly acknowledge you can easily escape right now. But for some reason, you feel trapped under that curious gaze, the upward quirk of his lips sending a weird shiver up your spine.

“Catch the changes in their body language.” He tilts his head, and when strands of his shaggy black hair tickle your cheek you fully realize the distance–or lack thereof–between you two. “Are they fearful? Or are they open to receiving your advances? Do they approach you just as eagerly?”

Since when did he get so close?

You gulp when his hand dances over your hip while the other outstretched one reaches your face, and you hate how your head instinctively leans toward the motion. It becomes harder to stand your ground while your gaze flits back and forth between the inked numbers on his fingers and those half-lidded eyes, a darkness so rare with how inviting it seems.

As he delicately brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear you wonder if he can hear the frantic hammering of your heart against your chest. Even if he can’t catch it, you can tell by the slight way his eyes glisten that he certainly knows, and maybe even relishes, the effect he has on you–the way you’re futilely trying to snap out of the reverie you’re currently in, drunk in the smell of whatever woodsy fragrance he decided to wear today mixed with the sickly sweet scent of that caramel candy he was chewing on earlier.

Well, fuck.

“And it’s in that moment, when their mind is distracted and more focused on you than their own thoughts”–his nose brushes yours, and your breath hitches as all you can do is close your eyes–“is when you make your move.”

You feel your lungs deprived of air the second he presses you deeper into the wall, one hand still on your hip as he uses the other to swiftly grab a piece of paper tucked in the back pocket of your pants.

A sharp inhale is what returns you to reality, your jaw slackening upon seeing him retreat and wiggle the neatly folded piece of paper he stole from you.

“Nagumo,” you nearly growl as you feebly attempt to get it back from him, which only seems to get him more excited as his face breaks out into a full-blown grin and he waves the item higher with that freakishly long arm.

“Should I unfold it? Reveal to all the secret recipes?”

“Do it and you die!”

“Is that a joke or a threat?” As if he’s some film actor breaking the fourth wall, he turns his head toward your classmates and winks at them. “You can never tell with poisons students.”

The room erupts into laughter.

If only you did lace that paper with poison! You’re mentally preparing to fight (and definitely lose) to him when Ito-sensei’s booming voice keeps you two in check.

“That’s enough, I believe we extracted the main point of your presentation. Either return to your desks or report to the staff room after class for wasting more of our time.”

Both of you don’t need to be told twice–you practically sprint to your desk while an elated Nagumo hums a merry tune from behind, your mind still reeling from what just happened while the chaos in the room dies down and the next group begins their presentation on deception.

How the hell was Nagumo able to do all of that? A presentation you conducted research and rehearsed for around two hours was something he easily accomplished in less than five minutes. And with you as the guinea pig! The thought makes your cheeks burst into flames, but you refuse to hide your face for fear of appearing weaker.

“What did I tell you?” He tosses the paper into your lap–still folded into its original position–as he sends you one of those big smiles that used to give you the creeps but now seems to evoke some other inexplicable feeling. “Top marks!”

The urge to spit out “No thanks to you” is so strong that you have to bite your itching tongue, because that would be a fat lie. So you let out a spiteful ‘hmm’, twitching fingers creasing the folded paper even further.

“Wasn’t it fun teaming up?”

He’s still a bit too close for comfort when he whispers the question, so you lean forward into your desk, trying your best to ignore the buzzing coming from the pest.

“You and I have different definitions of fun.”

“And how would you define it?”

“Not being near you.”

“Guess I’m not the only sucky liar on this team!”

That earns him a glare as you plot several ways to wipe that pleased look off his face. You cross off a few bad ideas that you’re embarrassed your mind even conjured.

“The silent treatment, huh…Didn’t peg you to be the type who does that.”

The eye roll you offer him appears to be a sufficient answer as he lets out a small huff and pretends to listen to his classmates’ project, his bored yawn louder than whatever is being presented. You naively think you’ll be able to endure the remainder of the class without his yapping.

And then he turns to you once again, an impish spark in those large, curious eyes.

“But I just need to ask–what’s written on that piece of paper anyway?”

You press your lips firmly into a straight line and stare at him, bemused that he hasn’t figured it out. He matches your stare, looking at you expectantly. Maybe he’s pretending that he hasn’t read it–with how fast he is, you wouldn’t be surprised if he only needed one or two seconds to skim over the writing.

Then again, you’re the idiot for having a physical copy of your plan to cheat and steal from the school chemicals and rare toxins inventory.

“It’s my formula for a poison that I’ll use to kill you.” Like a psycho, you grin triumphantly upon seeing the way his mouth turns into a tiny shocked ‘O’.

And like the maniac he is, he’s quick to return your smile, though it doesn’t quite reach those indecipherable eyes. “Looking forward to it!”

You’re too proud to admit that you feel the same.

[bunnyreaper]

hey bunny! been a min since i last sent you an ask 💜

i wanted to share that my bf just told me yesterday he wanted some space, to take a little break to figure things out. we did not break up, he told me that's not what he wanted us to do. i'm still really heartbroken about it bc i have bad separation anxiety and it's taking over my brain rn.

i was hoping for a drabble about soap comforting a reader who's dealing with that kind of situation, i was leaning towards the best friend au.

thank you so much for bringing me joy with your fics and headcanons 💜

- 🔪💕

hello my love, im sorry for being late to this ask but im sending all my best wishes your way ♥ wrote a silly little thing for you and hope it helps, if you need to talk, im here !!

johnny is the first one to notice something is amiss with you, your usually bright smile absent when he tries to make you laugh as he always does. 

a nudge to the shoulder, a retelling of one of simon's jokes that you've always loved, and nothing--just that same forced smile that doesn't bare your teeth or reach your eyes. his heart sinks every time he sees it, and every time he resolves within himself to try harder, to find something to make you smile properly again. 

as your best mate in the whole world, johnny supposed that you were just waiting for the right moment to talk about whatever it is that's clearly bothering you, but after days of nothing, he grows restless. 

it's one night in the rec room that he finally gets his answers. 

you're sandwiched between simon and johnny on the lumpy couch--despite johnny campaigning for it being his turn to pick the film for the night (where he secretly resolves to pick your favourite movie), simon is having none of it, and shoves on whatever he likes while johnny whines. 

"guess we're struggling tonight, lass." johnny jokes, playfully elbowing you as he tries to make you smile. 

you manage to roll your eyes in return, the slightest of smiles on your lips. "i'm sure we'll live." 

usually, you spend your nights texting your boyfriend, almost always in constant contact, as johnny fights for a scrap of attention. 

it doesn't escape your best friends attention that tonight, despite unlocking and locking your phone constantly, no notifications come. it doesn't escape his attention that your lockscreen is no longer two grinning embracing faces, but something aesthetic, impersonal. 

johnny can't hold himself back any longer. perhaps if you can't talk about it, you can find another way to tell him what's going on. 

your phone pings with a notification, your body going stiff and rigid, only relaxing when you see that it isn't your now ex, but johnny. you rush to open the text, casting a questioning look at the man next to you whose eyes are glued to his screen that is just tilted out of your view. 

> came up on my memories today :) 

attached is a picture of the two of you, from a year ago today, johnny's arm slung around your shoulders as you both smile so sweetly at the camera. you're both a little on the tipsy side, but were having the absolute best night by each other's side, forgetting about everything but enjoying your time together.

even the sight of the photo sparks a joy within you that you haven't felt since you got the news. you've not been blind to the way johnny's constant warmth has surrounded you, but only now can you feel it begin to seep into your weary soul. a reminder of better times, and hope that one day you'll smile like that again--it's a balm to your battered heart.

you double tap the message, adding a little floating heart in response as another of johnny's messages comes through.

> thought you needed a smile, bonnie girl.

and smile now you do, a lightness filling you, with your best friend at your side. the one man you can truly count on.

< i did, thanks johnny <3

his bubble appears, typing before it disappears--over and over again until a message finally pops through.

> wanna talk about it? 

somehow, the words feel easier to type than to speak--so much simpler without the fear that you won't be able to get through your words for fear of crying.

< we're on a break. i wasn't expecting it. just came out of nowhere. 

you expect johnny to send warm words of encouragement, but instead he's pulling you into his arms, completely disregarding simon's presence, ignoring anything else besides the overwhelming need to comfort you. 

"'m sorry, lass. doesnae know what he's missing out on. nae need to say anything, i've got ye now."

he says nothing more, as if he can sense that words aren't not what you need right now. instead, he lets you find home in his arms and starts his mission of holding you until all the pain goes away.

[ikissjesse]

could you do some aaron t/aaron z headcanons pls!

omg yes ofc !! ty for the request <333 since 3 ppl requested aaron² hc's (nothing specific) im gonna put all ur requests into this once post !!

tags: @i-need-a-slurpee @hrts4ariana ( note as of writing: this was a draft from 1719817282 years ago so if u forgot abt this n no longer wanted to be tagged im sorry🥲 )

as i mentioned in this post, they both adore musicals, especially hamilton

aaron² hc's !!

reblogs appreciated + reqs open <3

they like listening to the soundtracks together when they hangout

sometimes when there's a musical near where they are on tour they go together in their free time

u didn't hear it from me but they held hands during one of these musicals bc the room was dark n they thought noone would notice

as bros, ofc.. homies hold hands during musicals !!

they totally sing non-stop from hamilton together its cannon bc i say so

anyway enough abt hamilton for now

there was def mutual pining

they were both like "fuckidishcoaoxjaoa he just thinks of me as a friend"

"friend" NO HE WANTS U SO BAD -God probably idk

the way they attempted to "drop hints":

t tried to make z laugh a lot, even more than he usually did

pranks became less extreme than they normally were, he wanted to surprise him, not scare him to death like he used to

z would, although he denies this, try to do basketball tricks to impress t whenever he is at the basketball court w him

both of them went to jesse for advice, not knowing the other was doing the same

"hey jesse uhm- what should i do if, theoretically, ihavearlybigcrushonsomeonewhoiveknownforawhilebutithinktheyseemeasafriendandireallyreallyREALLYwannabemorebutidontwannaruinourfriendship????" -t

"...what?" -jesse

needless to say jesse was confused as hell

he sent him off w some advice after t slowed down enough for him to understand, then about 15 minutes later z came rambling about the same thing

"JESSE YOU'RE A HIT WITH THE LADIES, AND THE GAYS, AND..BASICALLY ANYONE. HOW DO I FLIRT WITH SOMEONE IVE KNOWN FOR AGES WHO IM PRETTY SURE SEES ME AS JUST A FRIEND?????" -z

thats what made it click for jesse, n he just laughed at the realization

giving him the same advice he gave t, he snickered at the idea of the aarons having a crush on eachother but being too stupid blind to see the feelings were mutual

"thanks jess!!" -z to jesse, running off

"yeah no problem man hehehshshehsh goodluck! HEHEHHEHE"

building up as much courage as he could, z eventually made the first move a few days later

he asked t if he'd like to join him for a musical that would take place at a nearby theater, n he gladly accepted

little did t know where this would lead <33 achoo anyways

as the lights dimmed during a 'romantic' scene, aaron z took t's hand in his own n (quietly) confessed his feelings towards his long-time bestfriend

saying t was happy would be an understatement

the energetic boy yanked him into a hug, leaving his stoic counterpart(ner) highly confused and extremely flustered

choking from t's tight embrace, his face became beet red

"Im, uhm- assuming you feel the same?"

well NO FUCKIN WAY SHERLOCK WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT -God again probably

"yeah dumbass, ofcourse i do!" t whisper-yelled, trying to keep his excitement down as they were still in a theater after all !!!

after that, z just smiled n wrapped his arms around t's waist, returning the hug

but wait !! theres more !!

what kind of ikissjesse ship post would this be without cute couple hc's ???

the quiet stoic boy x loud energetic boy dynamic UUGF MY HEART I THINK IM DYIBG from how much i love this duo😔😔

z buys t a baseball cap in EVERY city/country they go to. every fucking one

even if its not a band tour, if z is out somewhere n sees a cool cap he thinks t would like, yall better believe this boy would cut off an arm n sell a kidney just for t to get that hat

t has a whole side in his closet dedicated to these hats z buys him, he finds it absolutely adorable

z actually thinks he isnt good at gift giving, so he was afraid t wouldnt like it at first, but t's reaction is enough conformation that he adores it

now what kinda aaron² hamilton lover truther would i be if i didnt mention the musical again 💪💪

they have FREQUENT hamilton marathons together, sometimes the other members of 4*town will join in too !!

they still sortve act like they did before, like friends n what not

however theyre also 300% more flirty

by that i mean T is 300% more flirty

z might be a LITTLE bit but def not as much as my boy aaron t (the r in aaron stands for rizzler -aaron t)

z isn't a big fan of PDA himself, however when t does little displays of affection when theyre in public he loves it ( he doesn't say it out loud bc he's shy but he does smile at t or to himself, holding t's hand or draping an arm over his shoulders )

when theyre in private z will hug t from behind, hold his waist, kiss his forehead, etc .... yk... bro stuff......

t surprises him by going BOO!!! and jumping up to put his arms around his shoulders from behind, which at first scared z shitless n earned t a lecture about why he shouldn't scare him like that bc z WILL swing but z is okay with it now n actually smiles ALBEIT A VERY SMALL SMILE when he does it

dates include but r not limited to playing basketball late at night together, movies, watching musicals, roadtrips to literally anywhere long or short they just wanna be in eachothers presence OUGHG I LOVE THEM

i forgot to mention !!! t is definitely the one who asked to be boyfriends, but z accidentally said "I love you" first

t was doing something dumb again, and z shook his head as he laughed, accidentally mumbling the words "I love you" out loud

t stopped dead in his tracks n snapped his head in z's direction, n yall this boy was STRESSED he did NOT mean to let the world know this information

z covered his face with his hands n his face was PINK pink bro but t just laughed n walked over to him, cupping his face in his hands and staring at him with a very VERY smug but genuine n happy grin

z scoffed, but soon glanced back at the other boy and smiled shyly

theyre so cute im throwing up in class

there's more but i think this is long enough for now, sorry for the wait pls snack on this while u wait for the rest of my jesro + aaron² content i have planned WINK WINK

thank u for reading <3

[kimetsu-chan]

~”I know sweetheart, I know.”~

A/N: LARZ ITS DOONEEE— *ahem* this is a Zeno Arakawa x reader pairing bc I said so and it’s period comfort bc I said so. I tried to keep it gender neutral to make it as inclusive as possible, but it was written with my friend(who is a girl) in mind, so i apologize if there are any slip ups.

This was written in 2nd pov and I apologize if it isn’t good, I don’t usually write in this format-

ENOUGH OF THAT, ONTO THE FIC

Word Count: 1,263 words

TWs ⚠️: menstruation, periods, comfort, reader cries bc ✨ pain ✨ please do not read if these topics are harmful to you or disturb you

The room was quiet. The blinds were all shut, the door was shut, and you were the only one in there. You had asked your guardian/parent if it was alright to stay home from school today because it felt like you have been punched then kicked repeatedly in the stomach. Thankfully, they said yes, you don’t think you would have survived school. You can barely survive the loud and chaotic building as normal.

Enough of that, what time is it?

You lifted your pillow that was covering your face and squinted your eyes as you tried to read the clock in the dark room.

4:06 pm, school was well over by now. You sighed as you flung the pillow back over your head. You were about to get up to grab some snacks, maybe some water too, when a massive wave of pure agony flashed through your abdomen the moment you moved.

You hissed in pain and coiled back up on your bed, tears pricking your eyes. You thought they went away?! A nap and painkillers was supposed to help!

You couldn't help the hot tears that started to roll down your cheeks, it wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to deal with this right now. You didn’t like being in pain. Especially not pain as bad as this.

You wished you could make it go away, you hated this.

Your thoughts were forcefully ripped away from you when your phone began to ring on your nightstand. You painfully reached over with a few small grunts and picked up the device. Your hands worked quickly to wipe your tears and accept the call when you saw that the caller ID told you that it was your boyfriend calling.

You picked up and tried to make your voice as steady as possible, but you couldn’t help the small cracks and strains here and there. When you finally picked up, Zeno began talking in a worried tone.

“[Name]? Why weren’t you at school today?”

Before you could even answer, the sound of a small smack came through the receiver and Zeno spoke in a way that made it seem like he was talking to himself. He quickly returned to addressing you as he made his voice as soft as possible.

“Oh, duh, period. Uhm… would you like me to stop by? I’ve already finished my homework and you can look at my notes from class today.”

You felt your eyes water all over again, you would really appreciate that. You did your best to once again hold our tears from seeping into your voice before you responded to his question. Maybe you could ask him to hold you when you were done, if that wouldn’t be too much of a bother.

“T-That would be okay..”

Zeno knew exactly what you meant by that. He knew you had trouble voicing what you wanted so you wouldn’t appear to be selfish. H wished he knew exactly how to help you with that, but that was another problem for another day.

You heard rummaging from the other side of the phone and assumed he was grabbing his stuff. He paused what he was doing and spoke once more.

“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Thank you… I love you…”

You could practically hear the smile from his voice as he responded.

“Love you too, hun.”

After exchanging goodbyes, he hung up the phone and you fell back on the bed. You held your breath as the ache kept up and didn’t show any signs of stopping at all.

You brought yourself to get up, no matter how much it hurt, because you didn’t want to have a messy room when Zeno came over. You fought through the intense pain to straighten your bed sheets and blankets. You opened the blinds, momentarily blinding yourself in the process, and made sure nothing was out of place.

Just as you were finishing, you heard the doorbell ring. Your mood instantly lifted when you looked out the window and recognized your boyfriend’s car sitting in the driveway.

You rushed downstairs as quickly as you could in your pain-filled state, which turned out to be faster than you would have thought, and slid to a stop at the front door. You undid the locks and swung the door open to reveal Zeno who was carrying a plastic bag and his book bag.

“Hey [Na—“

He didn’t even get to finish before you launched yourself on him. Thankfully, he caught you and hoisted his arms under your thighs to carry you. He didn’t question the surprise hug and just stepped inside the house, kicking the door closed behind him. He walked over to your kitchen and set you down on the counter with his bags before returning to the door to lock it.

When he returned he picked you back up along with the bags and began to carry you up the stairs.

You really appreciated not having to walk, staying still helped the cramps more than walking around did. Although, you couldn’t help but squirm a little from the discomfort, something Zeno did not miss.

Zeno set you down on your bed when you reached your room and began to pull things out of his book bag. He set his notebook down and opened it to the notes he took in class. Since he knew exactly where you kept your own school supplies, he pulled your notebook out for you and handed it to you along with a pencil.

You took both and began to copy down what his notes said but you were getting distracted. And Zeno noticed.

He toiled the way your hand would freeze over the paper and the way your eyebrows furrowed in such a way as if you were trying to make it appear that you were not in pain when you so obviously were. He also noticed the way you kept your hand on you abdomen, right on top of where you would experience the worst of your cramps.

He frowned and gently took the pencil from your hand, which elicited a confused glance from you. He gave you a sympathetic look before pulling your tired body towards him. He rested his chin atop your head as he stroked your back.

“How bad does it hurt.”

His question was sudden and you were not expecting it in the slightest. You knew you couldn’t lie or say it didn’t hurt at all, he would see right through you. The tears began to come back as you let yourself be comforted by him. Your voice was so obviously filled with distress and it broke his heart.

“A— A lot… it hurts really bad.”

His frown deepened at that. He wished he could take it away completely, but the only thing he could do was help ease the immense pain.

He shifted his position to comfortably hold you while pulling back your covers before laying you down and pressing a long and sweet kiss to your forehead.

He wiped your tears with his thumbs and pressed one more kiss to your face, this time to your lips, before slipping in bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and placed his warm hands on your abdomen to act as a heat source to help relieve the cramps. He made sure you were comfortable before finally speaking.

“I know sweetheart, I know…”

A/N: was the ending cringey— i hope it wasnt 😭

ALSO, LARZ, PREPARE TO BE SPAMMED WHENEVER YOU GET CRAMPS.

I hope you enjoyed reading this, i spent over an hour on it 🙃

Taglist: @larz-barz

[themultifanshipper]

alleged comments? girl they’re on video look it up yourself. tbh there’s no situation in which trump deserves any respect after everything that he’s done. he’s a rapist, racist, misogynist, homophobe, criminal, and the list could go on and on. it doesn’t matter what he’s done but everyone knows the type of man trump is and he does not deserve an ounce of respect. i understand lando having to be polite and having to shake hands and greet him because of the team and that’s fine. other drivers have also had to do that with questionable political people on podiums and stuff and you can’t blame them if they won’t actively speak out against it because it’s not always safe to do that. but the way he went on about trump in the interview was different from that. he could have brushed it off without saying anything bad or insult him but he didn’t. it’s okay to like a driver even when they make mistakes but you should be able to at least hold them accountable and hold them to the same standards you hold other drivers, especially ones you don’t like.

He's an absolutely despicable person with no redeeming qualities I agree, so why did over half of america vote him in? And then almost again 4 years later? For the same reason that other misogynist racist homophobes are working in formula one. People turn a blind eye if it makes them rich. I could make you a list of all the problematic ppl currently in f1 (incliding drivers) and if you put them all in jail, trust me there would be nobody left.

Anyway I do want to hold lando accountable, not because he actually believed anything he was saying (it was a PRESS conference! Most of what they say is pre agreed with their teams especially thing like this) but because I think this is a good opportunity to actually get some backlash and be obligated to adress it and maybe do something good. Idk either condemning trump, firing zak brown (wishful thinking I know), limiting the presence of political figures at races idk...

Small other thing, personnally I know what lando's like, he gets anxious and giggly at the best of times, so meeting someone like trump is incredibly awkward for him especially if he happens to not like him, and then having to talk about it in a press conference, no matter what is previously agreed with the team, could only lead to disaster. He was indeed smiling the whole time and over doing it with the reverent tone, but his body language suggested to me that he was incredibly uncomfortable with the whole thing.

And although lando is the catalyst, he is basically like a child driving a car (idk if y'all are familiar with the mataphor if not, just ignore) and I truly don't believe any part of this situation is his fault. He shouldn't have been put in this situation in the first place and he's taking the brunt of the citicism that should be put on the team (again, zak brown if you can hear me I know where you live). I can imagine Oscar would have done the exact same thing, maybe just not as clumsy with the statements.

Edit: just a disclaimer, I do not idolize lando, I don't think he can do no wrong, he's immature, a dick, and I don't like the way he interacts with his mates, and frankly I would fuck nasty and leave fasty bc he's hot and bendy but his personality? Meh. He's also a good driver and everything but yeah, anyway i'm rambling now so... bye

[superbattrash]

saw your rbed the soft prompts post so if you ever felt like writing anything with (17. fixing the other persons clothes absentmindedly or like tucking their hair behind their ear U KNOW WHAT I MEAN THAT SOFT STUFF) or (38. anything else that makes you SOFT) for superbat or anyone bc i love your writing :DDDD

I don't know what happened here, it got longer than what I was going for, oopsie. Thank you for prompting me something soft and sweet, dear anon! (if anyone else wants to send me a soft prompt (no promises but this was fun), here's the list)

--

“You’re going to mess that up if you keep picking at it,” Bruce says. His voice is gentle, but it makes Clark flinch anyway. Since when did Bruce get out of the shower? And how is he already dressed? It’s taken Clark like seventeen minutes just picking out his outfit. And that’s even after Bruce has already laid it out for him on the bed. 

“Huh?” is Clark’s very intelligent reply.

“Your tie.” Bruce gestures towards the crumbled fabric in Clark’s hands.

“Oh,” Clark breathes and lets go. It’s all crooked but at least he didn’t pull it apart. Yet.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Bruce tells him as he reaches out to fix the tie. He works efficiently at pulling it apart and tying a new knot. A fancy one, no doubt.

“I’m not,” Clark argues weakly. A blind man would be able to tell that he’s 90 percent nerves at this point. He might even be shaking a little bit.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Well, you’re-” Clark starts and then sighs, because who is he kidding? “Yeah, no, you lie just fine.”

“That I do,” Bruce agrees easily. He pats Clark’s chest affectionately before taking a step back. “With you on top preferably.”

“Bruce,” Clark groans.

“What?”

“Stop being mean.” Stop teasing me, stop making me more nervous than I already am, Clark wants to say, but words are a little hard when he isn’t even sure he’s blinked in the last ten minutes. People blink. Clark has never had an issue blinking, why is he not blinking? He blinks twice just for good measure.

Bruce looks at him funny. “I’m never mean,” he says, thankfully not commenting on the weird face tic Clark is doing.

“You’re mean at least half the time.”

“That is not true, you idiot.”

“Don’t call me an idiot,” Clark pouts.

“Fine,” Bruce concedes. Too easily. “That’s not true, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that either,” Clark says with less confidence. Bruce only ever calls him sweetheart when he’s being overly affectionate. Which isn’t often. And it makes Clark weak in the knees every single time.

“Why not? You love it when I call you sweetheart,” Bruce teases.

“Exactly. I don’t need jelly legs right before we go out there.” It’s just his luck that Bruce decided to hold their damn engagement party at the manor. Why would he do that? He never lets people this close to the cave. Or his home, even.

“Stop panicking,” Bruce tells him with a smile. “Superman doesn’t get jelly legs.”

“Clark does though.”

“How very human of him.”

“Stop making fun of me,” Clark whines. He doesn’t mean it, obviously, because he’s stopped shaking. And he hasn’t forgotten to blink since Bruce started teasing him.

“I’m not. I’m helping distract you.”

“You’re doing a shitty job.”

“Language, Clark, there might be kids out there,” Bruce says with a chuckle. Like he doesn’t know exactly who is in his house and when they got here and the most likely time they’ll leave.

“God, I hope not,” Clark says, even though he could technically just take a listen. He doesn’t though because he doesn’t want to start panicking again.

“Ready?” Bruce asks as he holds out his hand.

“Not in the least,” Clark says but takes Bruce’s hand, nonetheless. He’ll probably never be ready, but he would go anywhere as long as Bruce is there.

“I’m right here with you.”

“It’s the only reason I haven’t run away yet.”

It’s not that Clark doesn’t want to make their relationship public; he very much does. But making it public for him means telling his parents and friends. Meeting Bruce’s kids, introducing himself officially to Alfred. They’ve already done that though and there’s only one thing left. Telling Bruce Wayne’s world about them. It’s terrifying in a way that no superpowered villain has ever been to Clark. He’d rather go a round or two with Darkseid than smile at cameras and answer strangers’ questions about his and Bruce’s love life for an entire evening. Okay, so maybe he’s exaggerating a tiny bit, but he’s nervous, it’s not his fault his mind works faster than the average human’s.

It still works slower than Bruce’s though, because of course nobody can think quite as far ahead as Batman. Which is probably why Bruce is trying to get a rise out of him - it’s awfully hard being nervous about a party when you’re arguing with your boyfriend. Fiancé. And that word still sends a chill down Clark’s spine. He can’t believe Bruce asked before he got the chance to, the sneaky bastard.

Clark knows he has nothing to worry about. Bruce has more than enough experience for the both of them. He brushes off the more inappropriate questions like a pro; gives just enough of a smirk to get away with not answering. He makes sure to keep Clark close, jumps in when Clark panics and splutters a stupid - or too honest - answer to the many inquiries.

Bruce is… scarily good at this. Clark just follows his lead. It’s something he’s both used to and unfamiliar with. Following, that is, not following Bruce. He really would follow Bruce to the edge of the universe if he asked. 

A few hours in Clark tugs at his tie; he’s tired but it’s not in a bad way. Despite the comments and questions from virtual strangers, he’s having a good time. Mostly because Bruce sticks to his side through it all. Ma and pa are here as well, and Bruce makes sure they spend time with them and Clark enjoys watching all of Bruce’s little bats trying to impress his parents. Like they aren’t already completely sold on having a handful of grandbabies. 

“So, how did you really meet?” A woman – Wendy, Clark thinks? – asks, and before Clark can put his foot in his mouth (he really is a bad liar), Bruce swoops in with a practiced story that’s more or less true. 

“Through work,” he says and then turns to smile softly at Clark. His eyes land on Clark’s chest and he reaches out and straightens his collar, never once faltering in the conversation. He does it like it’s second nature, like he’s not even aware how intimate a gesture it is. 

Clark finds himself relaxing and grinning like the fool in love he is. 

By the end of the night Clark feels like he’s talked to every single citizen in Gotham, even though he knows that can’t be right. There’s only a couple of hundred people here but it feels like thousands. He’s about ready to fall into bed. Bruce looks like he’s getting there as well, running a hand through his hair more and more, pulling at his own tie. 

When Bruce downs his third glass of champagne, the product in his hair has all but vanished. His bangs are falling in his face, and he’s never looked more beautiful. 

Clark brushes the stubborn strand of hair out of Bruce’s eyes, just because he can. Because he’s allowed to do so. Because he said yes when Bruce asked if he wanted to marry him. As if there was ever any other answer. 

[sollucets]

congratulations on your follower milestone!! You deserve it! I would love to also request something from the touch prompt list for aye and akk? 50. putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up screams Akk and aye to me..

hi nonny!! thank you very much for the prompt & ur well-wishes

this is set in-canon, specifically in the back half of episode 10 pre-protest. i think there's room to imagine a few extra days of secret boyfriends akkaye, and if there isn't, too bad, i want to. nearly 1k again bc it got out of hand

💜

The days between their first suspicions that the protest will be outside school and that weekend are tense. Very few people are acknowledging it out loud for fear of retribution; only in closed meetings and on social media does anyone dare to say anything at all is going on. Just another invisible threat to hang over all their heads. 

Akk leaves an after-school meeting with a frown on his face, stopping in an-abandoned-at-this-time hall outside the student affairs office to check over the hashtags. He’ll probably get away with being seen using his phone if he just says he’s doing his duty, but he doesn’t want to bet on it. 

So it’s understandable that he’s on edge enough to make an undignified shrieking noise when he's grabbed by the wrist and pulled around a corner into a smaller, connecting hallway. 

"Ayan," he hisses, because who else could it be?

Grinning, Aye runs a thumb over Akk’s pulse point before dropping his wrist in favor of leaning against the wall next to him, looking up through his eyelashes. He’s in his usual sweatshirt and somehow looks just as put-together as always despite it. “You know you’re not supposed to be using that, head prefect," he says, voice only slightly lowered in deference to their location. 

"What do you want," Akk demands in a whisper, checking back and forth down the hall. No one's here, but that doesn't mean anything; it may be after classes, but there are still staff and other students with late clubs around who might easily pass through here. He straightens his back nervously.

"To see my boyfriend," Aye says innocently.

That word still sounds so strange and precious coming out of his mouth. Akk rallies after a second. "You saw me in class multiple times today. Try again."

"To really see you," Aye amends, tilting his head coyly and reaching out to flip the hem of Akk's uniform jacket between his fingers. Something seems to shift in his face when he adds, "You look stressed, Bigfoot."

Akk's jaw clicks, and he sighs, leaning back against the wall too. The brick is uncomfortable even through the layers of his clothes, and he wants to reciprocate, to mess with Aye's hair or tell him the whole horrible truth or hold his hand, but the hall is only so empty for so long. "You always say that."

"You always look stressed. Can't I worry?"

He wishes he wouldn't. It's too much, sometimes, the guilt of it. "I'm fine, Aye."

Aye's dark eyes, always too-seeing, follow him as he shifts uncomfortably where he stands. “I don’t believe you,” he says quietly. 

Closing his eyes to get away from that look, Akk lets himself be honest: “I don’t expect you to.”

A hand brushes his for a second, warm and familiar, and then two hands take his face between them and squeeze. “Stop that,” Aye says as Akk’s eyes fly open and he jerks away. “You look like Singto when the treats run out.”

Akk has no idea what his expression is doing, but it must be hilarious, because Aye snickers unashamedly at him. "That's a better face."

Without much success, he tries to stop the corners of his mouth from curving up. He’s always at least a little out of control around Aye, honestly, and it should scare him even more than it already does, but— when Aye’s smile looks like that, all bright and teasing and blinding, what can he do? What could anyone expect him to do?

"And that's even better," says Aye, tone self-satisfied. "Show me that all the time, okay?"

"Shut up," Akk grumbles, the effect ruined by his obvious grin. He puts a hand up and actively pulls the corners of his mouth down.

"Don't think I will," Aye tells him, eyes sparkling. "The results are just so good. You're so cu--"

Akk takes the hand at his own face and slaps it over Aye's mouth, finally managing a proper glare. "Don't," he says pointedly. "I'm not."

Aye raises both eyebrows and wiggles them obnoxiously.

"You are very much the only person that thinks that," Akk tells him. He's surprised Aye hasn't licked his hand yet. "Most people actually take me seriously, you know. You could do that too. It wouldn't even be hard."

Aye says something muffled that sounds suspiciously like you don't want me to, and Akk rolls his eyes, laughing a little. "You're too full of yourself, really. You—"

Over Akk’s fingers, Aye's eyes go comically wide, and he shifts enough to slap his own hand over Akk's mouth just as the sounds of footsteps pass them in the connecting hallway, the murmur of a conversation identifying the people having it as teachers heading towards the offices.

Both of their hands over each other's mouths, their gazes lock for a long moment as the sounds fade away. Akk doesn't even breathe as Aye's fingers shift.

When it's quiet again, they both drop their hands, staring.

Then Aye cracks, his lips twitching, and Akk stifles a laugh of combined relief and sympathy with all his strength in turn, face scrunching up as he shakes his head. So stupid, and so close to being caught. He even still has his phone in his hand. He’s about to murmur something along those lines when his entire train of thought is derailed. 

Aye brings the hand he'd used to cover Akk’s to his own mouth and silently presses two fingers to it in a smiling kiss. When all Akk can do is stare, transfixed, he draws a little closer and whispers, “You can have a real one if you let me walk you to your dorm.”

Like I want that, Akk wants to say, to fend off the way they both know he does. He shakes his head, ruefully this time. “We shouldn’t leave at the same time,” he says very softly, an apology. “I’ll — see you later?” 

Aye’s smile goes a little plastic for a moment, pained, but he doesn’t push it. “I’ll call you. It’s a promise.”