#but I guess international break is the perfect opportunity

[gaysinfootball]

Janis & Chris at Nürburgring feat. Seb

[charlieg1rl]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄!𝐀𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀!𝐀𝐔

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏.𝟔𝐊

For weeks, Hyunjin found himself caught in an emotional whirlwind, one that spun faster and faster with each passing day. He’d wake up every morning, the first thought on his mind being Y/N—the way her laughter echoed in his head long after they had parted and how her radiant smile had the remarkable power to brighten even his darkest days. Each moment they spent together felt charged with electricity, igniting a spark that sent his heart racing. Yet, despite the intensity of his feelings, every time he attempted to voice what lay heavy in his heart, the words seemed to get stuck in his throat, trapped behind the barriers of his own fear and uncertainty.

Their routine had become a comforting pattern: study sessions filled with laughter, casual coffee dates, or simply hanging out in each other’s company. But there lingered an unspoken weight in the air, a palpable tension that neither seemed able to address. Hyunjin could feel it pressing down on him, and he sensed that Y/N was aware of it too. She often regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes searching his face as if she was waiting for him to break the silence, to share what was brewing beneath the surface.

One chilly afternoon, as they sat in their favorite café—where the cozy atmosphere was enhanced by the delightful aroma of fresh pastries and the rich scent of brewing coffee—Hyunjin found himself lost in thought, staring absentmindedly at his half-finished latte. The intricate foam art began to dissolve, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. He knew he needed to speak, to express the feelings that had been gnawing at him, but each time he opened his mouth, the right words failed to materialize.

“Hyunjin?” Y/N’s gentle voice pulled him from his reverie, snapping him back to the present. He looked up to find her watching him intently, her brow slightly furrowed in concern. “You’ve been really quiet lately. Is everything okay?”

Meeting her gaze sent a familiar flutter through his chest, a rush of warmth mixed with anxiety. “Yeah, just… a lot on my mind, I guess,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like what?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her curiosity evident. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

There it was—the perfect opening, the ideal moment to pour out his heart. Yet, despite the clarity of the opportunity, he found himself nodding and deflecting, the truth slipping through his fingers. “It’s nothing serious. Just school stuff. You know how it is.”

A shadow of disappointment flitted across her features before she masked it with a smile. “Alright, if you say so. Just know I’m here if you need to vent.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he replied, feeling a pang of guilt gnawing at his insides. He longed to be honest with her, to share the tumult of emotions that swirled within him, but the fear of jeopardizing their friendship loomed larger than his desire to confess. What if she didn’t share his feelings? What if this fragile arrangement they had built came crashing down, leaving him with nothing but regret?

As the weeks dragged on, Hyunjin found himself increasingly consumed by his internal struggle. He’d watch Y/N laugh with their friends, her eyes sparkling with joy, and it broke his heart a little more each time he refrained from expressing the depth of his emotions. The weight of his silence became an unbearable burden, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that time was slipping away, like grains of sand through his fingers.

On one particularly rainy day, they had just finished a project together at her apartment. Y/N had been in high spirits, her creativity radiating as they crafted a presentation on innovative interior design concepts. However, as they wrapped up their work, an uncomfortable silence settled between them, thick and heavy.

“Hyunjin?” she said softly, her eyes searching his with an intensity that made his heart race. “You’re really quiet again.”

He inhaled deeply, determination swelling within him. This was it; he needed to tell her. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could finish, the doorbell rang, startling them both. Hyunjin felt the tension dissipate, frustration gnawing at him. Of course, just as he was about to bare his soul, something had to ruin the moment.

“Who could that be?” Y/N murmured, her expression a mixture of confusion and irritation as she got up to answer the door. Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of the unspoken words slip away, replaced by annoyance at the interruption.

When she opened the door, a wide grin spread across her face, and Hyunjin felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. It was Changbin, Chan, and Jeongin, their boisterous laughter and playful banter filling the room as they barged in, completely oblivious to the charged moment they had just interrupted.

“Surprise! We thought we’d crash your study session!” Changbin exclaimed, triumphantly walking in with a bulging bag of snacks.

“Yeah, we were just in the neighborhood,” Jeongin added, flashing Y/N a thumbs-up. “Hope that’s okay?”

Y/N laughed, a bright, genuine sound that made Hyunjin’s heart ache in an entirely different way. “Of course! Come in!”

As the room filled with the sound of laughter and lighthearted chatter, Hyunjin felt the weight of his unspoken feelings settle heavily in the pit of his stomach. He sat back, watching Y/N interact with their friends, her laughter infectious and carefree. It was in these moments that he realized how deeply he cared for her. It wasn’t just about their friendship anymore; it was about her happiness, her vibrant spirit, and he wanted desperately to be a part of that.

The evening progressed with snacks and games, but Hyunjin felt like a ghost in the room, his thoughts racing as distractions pulled him further away from his resolve. Each time he tried to refocus, a new interruption seemed to arise, pushing his feelings deeper into the recesses of his mind. It was maddening, an emotional battle he felt ill-equipped to win.

After a couple of hours, their friends eventually departed, leaving Hyunjin and Y/N alone once again. As the familiar silence returned, he felt the heaviness loom over them, a constant reminder of the words he still hadn’t found the courage to say.

“Thanks for inviting them over,” he finally said, breaking the stillness.

“Of course! I love hanging out with you all. It’s nice to take a break from studying,” Y/N replied, her smile bright and inviting. But there was something in her eyes—a flicker of uncertainty that hadn’t been there before, a hint that she sensed something was amiss.

Hyunjin’s heart raced. This was another chance, another moment where he could finally let everything out. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, she cut in again.

“Hyunjin, are you sure everything’s alright? You feel… distant. I know we’re just friends, but if there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.”

He froze, caught in a tug-of-war between the urge to confide in her and the instinct to protect what they had built together. “I’m fine, really,” he said, though the words felt hollow as they slipped past his lips.

Y/N studied him intently, her eyes probing his. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I promise I won’t freak out or anything.”

The sincerity in her voice made his heart race even more, and he felt the pressure of his unexpressed emotions building within him. “I just… I’m not good at this, Y/N,” he finally admitted, the honesty spilling out before he could rein it in.

“What do you mean?” she asked, tilting her head with a mix of concern and curiosity.

“I don’t want to mess things up,” he confessed, the words tumbling forth. “I just… I’ve been trying to figure out how to say what I need to say, but it’s hard.”

Y/N stepped closer, her expression softening, the distance between them narrowing. “Hyunjin, whatever it is, you can trust me. You know that, right?”

“I know,” he replied, the sincerity in her gaze cutting through the defenses he had built around his heart. He took a deep breath, determination flooding through him once more. “Y/N, I—”

But once again, the moment shattered. A notification buzzed on his phone, pulling his attention away from her. He glanced at the screen, and his heart sank at the sight. It was a text from Changbin, a meme that made him chuckle, but it was also a harsh reminder of how easily distractions could slip in, pulling him away from what truly mattered.

“Sorry, it’s just Changbin,” he said, shaking his head as he tried to refocus. “I’ll talk to you about this soon, I promise.”

Y/N’s expression fell slightly, disappointment flickering across her features like a candle’s flame. “Okay, just… don’t keep me in the dark for too long.”

“Yeah, I won’t,” he assured her, though the weight of doubt hung heavy in his mind. As she turned away, a wave of frustration washed over him. How had it come to this? Why was it so difficult to simply say what he felt?

Days turned into weeks, and with each passing moment, Hyunjin felt the gap between them widen, the words still unspoken, festering like an open wound. The burden of his emotions became unbearable, yet the fear of what would happen if he finally broke the silence loomed larger than the love that compelled him to speak. Each day, the internal struggle intensified, a silent battle waging within him as he grappled with the truth he was desperate to share.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

tags: @estella-novella, @beccasmecka

[skylaryozora]

Power of Silence: Musa's Voice Loss Arc in Season 6

While rewatching Season 6 and getting to the episodes where Musa loses her voice due to Rumpelstiltskin, following Selina's command, I couldn't help but wonder if there might be a deeper meaning to this particular arc.

It's often said that when you lose something very important to you—whether it's your health, a loved one, or your fortune—only then you're likely to gain a new perspective on life. Events like these force you to take the time to reflect, become more perceptive, and reorganize your priorities.

In Musa's case, her voice, described as powerful and rare in nature, along with her perfect pitch I imagine, is likely something she can't imagine her life without. I dare say these two complement her as a human and a fairy. When she loses her voice, she's quite devastated, and feels vulnerable. However, she still manages to conduct an orchestra and create a magic shield powerful enough to protect her school, so it's obvious she can still thrive without being able to speak.

The voice loss arc turns out to be crucial for Musa and Riven. First, let me quote what Riven said:

Riven: Musa, that was incredible! I mean it! Even without a voice, you put on the most amazing concert. You saved Alfea. I just wish I could be half as remarkable as you. I wasn't able to save your voice, and I couldn't be there for you once it was gone. You deserve better. (...) Musa, there's something I've been meaning to get off my chest. I'm supposed to be there for you every day, to support you and protect you as a Specialist and as your boyfriend. But right now, I'm just not capable of doing either one of those things. (S6, EP23)

What I'd like to emphasize is that I can imagine Musa would have interrupted Riven right away in the past, expressing her unwillingness to see him or something. However, now she can't do that, and she's somewhat compelled to listen to what he's saying. This situation forces her to pause and listen attentively, gaining a deeper understanding of Riven's sentiments. Additionally, Riven might feel it's his opportunity to speak and convey his feelings, now that he has a chance to be heard. In this moment it's his turn to fill the silence with something he has to say. And what he says is connected to how he currently feels about himself as well:

Riven to Sky: I give up. You will always be the leader of the Specialists. And I will always be runner-up. (...) It's not just this match, Sky. No matter how hard I try, or how close I get, I always come up short. If I don't change something, I'll never reach the top. (S6, EP23)

Riven to Musa: I guess I just have to figure out a way to be a hero to myself, if that makes sense. You always got me, Musa. (S6, EP23)

I must confess, I was moved when Riven mentioned that he needed to find a way to be a hero to himself. This single line serves as further evidence of his internal struggle, where his ambitions clash with the deep-seated issues of low self-esteem and an inferiority complex. It seems that witnessing his girlfriend lose something precious, and being powerless to help her, became a breaking point for him. In the private moment they share, he admits that he is far from being the person he aspires to be—not just for her but for himself as well. This revelation underscores the depth of trust he places in her. He can reveal his vulnerability when Musa's around, so there is a profound beauty in that scene.

Despite the numerous plot absurdities, with the season feeling very disconnected from S5 or S4 as if the previous seasons never happened, and acknowledging that the arc itself could have been explored more effectively (I won't delve into the entire portrayal of Rivusa in Season 6 and its issues), the core concept of Musa losing her voice was still commendable and essential in my opinion.

[slaasherslut]

I need to do a little rant because im losing my mind over this and im frustrated. Ill probably delete it later

So the job im working right now isnt permanent but im a permanent employee. I work a specific job in a factory in the afternoon shift but that shift doesnt run the entire year so im laid off like 1/3 of the year. Two weeks ago I saw a job opening in another location for a job thats perfect for someone in my position. Its basically doing inventory and id be guaranteed work all year round. I thought it would be perfect for me to move up and get better work. I applied for it immediately. Days go by and I hear nothing. No calls, no emails, nothing at all. I was confused since I was told everyone interal was being interviewed. I didnt go to work today because i was at home with cramps and my mom came home (she does the same thing i do except on the morning shift) and she was told they had be interviewing for that position already for quite some time, some people already having second interviews. From what ive heard from her, the person doing the hiring was calling the managers of all the internal people applying. I dont know why they did that, it should be none of their business, but they did it anyway. My manager obviously said something to them so they wouldnt interview me. I was the only internal applicant that wasnt interviewed. My guess is that i was needed where i am now and she cant have me leave. My manager has a habit of sabotaging peoples job opportunities and im not surprised she did it to me. I even laughed to my mom telling her "im the only person on my shift who can do my job. I bet im not gonna get it because of that. My manager will make sure of that." And look what happened. Im just so frustrated. The months that im laid off i struggle to pay my bills so i need a new job. Ive been applying for a year and a half with almost nothing to show for it. Then an internal job shows up that is perfect for me, more hours, and better pay. But my manager is too selfish and she ruined this one single chance i had in this horrible job economy. I havent had many chances, no one has from what i can tell. Im so mad i dont even wanna go to work tomorrow. This is the same manager thats bullied me since the day i started and ive made so many complaints and nothing has happened. Im just so fed up and im so tired. But i have no other options. I just know when i complain about this tomorrow that im probably gonna have a break down over it. Im so sick of this.

[medicinal-doll]

Weight Training.

Title: Weight Training.

Dad!Captain Syverson x Best friend!Reader

Words: 1K.

Summary: You've been pinning for your friends dad for sometime now. Luckily enough A perfect opportunity strikes to catch a night time workout with a particularly sexy veteran.

Warnings: Slight Non-con/ Dub-con, p in v sex, daddy kink,oral sex f receiving,degrading,rough sex,spanking,choking, hair pulling,Slight dacryphilia

A/N. This has been rotting in my drafts for A bit so here's this while I procrastinate about my dark Sherlock smut

*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me

..............

You dry your wet hair as the steam dissipates from the bathroom mirror.

Tonight was the night.

Your friend went to the grocery store to pick up some snacks for the nights sleepover, So she shouldn't be back for another hour.

One hour that's all the time you have.

You grab the adorable pink pajamas from the counter slowly slipping them on your damp skin.

The bottoms are cut a bit too short and are visibly tight.A Perfect fit for making your ass peek out from underneath the fabric.

You slipped the cottony strap up your shoulder,It hugged your tits just right plumping them up.

Giving you the faintest hint of cleavage.

Sinful thoughts rolled through your head as you blowdried your hair and applied light makeup.

.............

"Remember hun, Our house is your house" The Captain smiled charmingly at you.

You recall the first time you met him, how he got you all worked up with just a friendly greeting.

"You just make yourself good and comfortable" "Okay darlin?"

A familiar wetness starts to seep from your core.

You just nod at him your mind dazed in a hormonal trance.

"Showers upstairs, gyms downstairs and I'm sure Sarah will point out anything else you might need"

He said in that sexy southern drawl.

"There n'thing else I can get for you honey?"

He innocently questions but I guess the pool between your legs thought otherwise.

You nod your head 'no' at him slowly more focused on his dominant tone than his words.

God you wanted him.

...........

You snap out of your daze as you finish loosely tying your hair up.

You practically sprint down the stairs but slow your pace as you near the basement door.You've been to the house before but only when Sarah was around.

You've noticed that Mr.Syverson always takes his nightly workout at 9pm.

You're not much of a gym rat.

But for tonight's purposes you live for the gym.

You open the door and creep slowly down the stairs not wanting to make your presence known just yet.

As you enter the room

You immediately spot the veteran captain jogging on the treadmill loud music blasting in his earbuds, facing away from you thank god.

You'd be lying if you said your mouth didn't water at the sight of him.

Tall, large, and sweaty. He hauled every pound of tough muscle against the recurring track not missing a beat.

You wondered if he could keep such a consistent intense pace with other activities as well.

You stride over to him stepping onto the treadmill just beside his. you start your treadmill at tempo of a regular walk and you face your head forward acting as if everythings fine, and that your not working out next to your best friends dad practically naked.

He notices you and slightly trips breaking his powerful stride. You smirk internally as he lowers the speed on his treadmill matching yours.

He removes his earbuds turning his attention to you.

You look at him with your prettiest smile.

"Sorry Mr.Syverson I didn't mean to startle you"

His shoulders relax and he looks at you with sincere eyes hooded by his hat.

"that's alright darlin, you just caught me off guard is all"

His eyes dip down only for a moment.

Landing on the tight short shorts and braless tee. You see his pupils dilate before he quickly Clears his throat and focuses back on his workout.And from this angle you swear you can see a blush spread across his face.

But something tells you he's gonna need a bit more 'motivation' to make a move than that.

You increase the speed of your treadmill.Until your ass and chest jiggle in unison.Leaning slightly forward making sure to give the captain A good view.

Not long after your antics you hear his treadmill stop and he dismounts from the track ignoring you and heading over to the weights.

You smack your lips together in annoyance,damn it you almost had him.

You hear the sound of weights being added onto the bar and wait till you hear him start lifting to stop your track.

You get off and mischievously stalk towards him.

He clearly is acting like he doesn't see your presence circling him like a hungry shark.And tries to focus on not dropping the bar on his face at your passes at him.

You cross your arms behind your back watching him intently.

As he lifts the heavy bar in slow reps.

"Wow Mr.Syverson thats alot of weight" you ask cutely " It must be pretty heavy"

"Nothing impossible" he grunts, his muscular biceps on full display.

"you could even lift this if you were trained to" he says breathlessly, focus deadset on the bar.

You move yourself till you come directly into his line of sight making sure to poke your chest out.

"Do you think you could show me how?"

He pauses deep in thought before setting the bar back on the rack.

"I don't see why not" he lifts himself off the bench and gestures for you to sit down.

"let's just start with the bar and no weight"

"I wouldn't want to overwhelm you" he says removing the weights from the metal bar.

You smile at him as you lay down.

"Don't worry about me Mr.Syverson I can take it"

He cocks his neck back in response to your suggestive phrasing before letting out a deep chuckle.

"I bet you can sweetheart but let's just start small for now there's no rush"

He stands behind you and removes the bar from the rack, holding it above your head.

He says some instructions to you but all you can focus on is his bulging thighs near your head.

"grab the bar sweetie" he encourages as you grip the metal handles taking them lightly.

"M'gonna let go now and you do your best to lift okay?" "let me know if it's too heavy I'm right behind you doll"

You nod at him nervously as he releases the bar from his hold.

The bar is actually not heavy at all but he doesn't need to know that.

You whimper and whine slightly writhing your body against the bench, acting like you're trying your hardest to lift.

The captain looks A little bewildered by your expression and the erotic noises leaving your mouth.

"H-hows 'bout we stop here for today" he says his face slightly flushed.

You nod and let him take the bar from you.

Syverson puts the equipment away as you lift off from the bench.

"You did good today maybe we'll try adding a little weight next time if your feelin up to i-

"Ow!"

You fall on the ground and clutch your chest.Syversons eyes widen and he immediately rushes to your side.

"What's wrong hun..." He questions concern across his face.

"It hurts!" you cry as his eyes search your body.

"Where does it hurt doll?"

You sniffle at him, a fake pained expression on your face.As you grab his hand and pull it under your shirt, Moving it up and down in slow circles squeezing his hand around your warm breast ever so gently.

"it hurts right here..." you pout at him innocently like your not making him grope your bare chest.

His eyes are low and his expression changes to one of pure lust.

"it hurts hm..." He says in a sinister tone

He circles his thumb around the swollen bud of your nipple and you moan at his touch

"hurts so bad Sy" "please daddy make it go away"

His gaze is dark clouded by lust as his eyes give into temptation, and vulgarly look over every forbidden part of you.

"I'll help you dolly...."

He pushes you onto your back and straddles your torso with his meaty thighs trapping you under his weight.

Sy licks his lips hungrily as he pulls your top up exposing your breasts to him.

He wastes no time dipping his head down kissing and sucking at the tender flesh.

"Sy..." You moan as he sucks the sensitive bud with his tongue.

You try to push your chest up wanting more of his affections.

But then a rough hand wraps itself around your delicate neck pinning your head in place.His grip makes your pussy drool and you want him to take you right then and there.

"Sy it aches" you whine at him trying to buck your hips up to get any kind of friction.He looks up at you with a string of saliva connecting his lips to your chest.

"Where..." He says in a deep growl that makes your clit pulsate in want.

"on my little girl part" he stares before getting off of you until he's seated at your feet.

You squeal when he grabs you by your calf, effortlessly pulling your body to him.

He grips both of your hips by each side and lifts them up till he's face to face with your clothed throbbing pussy.

You're a little thrown by the sudden change of position but all your care and concern fades when he licks A slow thorough stripe up your pussy

Your body shudders as you try to contain your moans.

Sy licks and sucks your sensitive little clit the fabric of your ruined shorts only increasing the pleasure

Your thighs shake as your legs wrap around his head as Sy flicks your needy clit over and over with his big tongue lapping at your folds mercilessly.

You're so fucking close.

"Sy! Gonna cum!" You moan out losing yourself to his relentless tongue swiping at your clit.

He chuckles into your pussy the vibration and his hot breath reverberated through your body.

"Cum for me princess" he mutters sliding your shorts to the side.

Your bare cunt clenching happy to see him.

Sy wraps his soft lips around your little button sucking harshly.

Your body jerks up from being stimulated so directly, It feels like electricity as you lose control of your muscles shaking and cumming all over Sy's face. Soaking his beard in the juices of your arousal.

He removes his hands from your hips and your bottom drops into his lap in exhaustion.

Your mind is empty, still reeling from your orgasm. And then you feel something prod at your entrance.

You look down...

And it's the girthiest cock you've ever seen, swollen angry red tip dripping in hot precum with fat veins wrapped around it....he's so big you could barely hold one of his balls in your hand.

"Sy- You can't it won't fit" you whimper trying to scoot your body away but Sy grips your meaty thigh.

Pulling you dangerously close to him.

"Don't worry honey I'll make sure it fits" he chuckles darkly and grips your hip ramming his fat cock into your tight little snatch.

You wail out in A combination of fear and pleasure feeling more full than you have in your entire life.

"Sy! no...." His dick is stretches you so much you feel like you're gonna break.

Sy slightly pulls out before slamming his hips back into you. Thrusting his cock deep into your sensitive pussy.

"God! Daddy fuck-" you pout at him eyes watering from the overwhelming feeling.

Sy ruts his large body against yours and you cry after every thrust of his hips as he roughly fucks his veiny cock in and out of your dripping cunt.

"that's it honey, take me nice and deep like a good little girl" Sy encourages and your walls clench around his thickness milking him for all he's worth.

Smack!

"Ah!-" Sy smacked your ass harshly and it hurt so much but felt so good.

"Daddy..." You whimper and whine at him losing any sense of dignity you have left.

Sy grabs a firm hold of your hair pulling your face towards him.

Smack! His hits bounce off your ass.

"Ah!-"

"Naughty little bunny teasing me with this whore of an outfit, parading that little ass around me like a slut "

Smack!

You cry out "Daddy! M'sorry" you sob at the red handprint forming on your skin while Sy still fucks into you, his dick dragging over every inch of your walls.

"No more...it hurts-" You moan at him pushing your hands against his muscular chest.

You try to get him off of you but then his tip rubs against a particularly sensitive spot.

And you whine as your body involuntarily squirms against him in unbearable pleasure.

"You wanna act like a stupid little slut'n fuck your best friends dad huh? " he pulls your hair harder.

"No-...Sy" You sob hating how fucking good he feels buried deep inside you.

"This is what happens to little whores who think no one will bend over them over, and fuck them like they deserve"

His grip on your hip tightens, and you feel his thrusts become rushed and forceful.

"Sy no!...don't " you cry as your walls flutter around him.

"I'll do anything just please don't cum inside me-"

You beg but your pussy tightening around him makes you feel like a liar

"Mm..Fuck..."

Sy groans as he pulls your dripping little cunt flush against his hips grunting as his warm white load floods your cervix.

"Ah-..."

You whine feeling his seed drip into your womb even more upset that it made you cum.

You and Sy make eye contact at the shameful act you both just committed faces blushed and eyes hooded.

"Dad! I'm home!" A girlish voice sounds from upstairs.

You two quickly scramble off each other grabbing at your clothes to try and maintain a sense of normalcy.

But something tells me this won't be the last workout where you'll be accompanying Mr.Syverson

[manleycollins]

Attending my third and final session, which was an evening session. This is my first Olympics, but this stadium was built to perfection because I was in Row 81 - nose bleed seats or the third level of seating, but I had a view that was perfect to see every person and every activity with the naked eye. Germany was on my left. France on my right. France and Netherlands in front. The award ceremony was beautiful and a theme song that will play in head and memories for a long time. I have seen the Olympic officials and competitors to change from a white organization, now black organization, and now Asian integration. I heard an international music playlist…Thank goodness for saving me from hearing United States playlist. It was exciting to see the international community knowing other artist's song and dances to them. Thanks to the German couple next to me explaining the different songs matching certain events in the European community. The men's high jump was spectacular won in winning a medal had to be done through a tie-breaker. The men's long distance 5000m was funny because Ethiopia utilized its energy on the 2nd lap to finish and did not even medal on the final lap. The women's 1500m was really good for Kenya to break her own record and win gold for a third time…I guess will see you in Los Angeles 2028. The women's 110m hurdles was a spectacular for the USA to win and defending champion coming in 3rd with a photo finish. Yes, I am glad the 4x400m USA men and women team won first for their respective races. MVP for this Olympics for USATF women was Gabrielle "Gabby" Thomas with a 4x100m, 200m, and 4x400m gold medals. MVP for this Olympics for USATF men was Noah Lyles and Quincy Wilson because they did their job to provide opportunities for others and both from the DMV metro area. The very disappointing part is the arrogance of USATF not awarding alternates or Team B medals for creating the opportunity of getting an Olympic Record or Medal. I thought Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Inc. was arrogant. I was so proud of the other country teams showed great pride and sportsmanship for every team member whether they participated or not on the relay teams. Yes, I am upset because Quincy Wilson was absent from the medal podium…I do not know the reason…I do not care. The USATF women 4x100m showed it also with only four members and no alternate. Africa is getting their teams right (Botswana pushed the h*ll out of that last men's 4x400m relay leg), Europe is getting their teams right, and Asia shown the most improvements on establishing presence where American favorites are marketed to win. I never thought I would see an Asian (Japan) claim first place in women's Javelin. Thanks to the international community to make USATF work for those medals. Thanks most to Mother Africa and the number of Africans that represented countries where we had the most horrid treatment including up today. I personally and professionally thank each African, French, and American athlete for representing me and my DNA makeup. Paris, France in the European Union has set the bar in achieving gender parity, promoting sustainability, unexpected sports categories, and getting the viewership up…now Los Angeles 2028 in the United States of America of North America let's see what you got since 1984. I was only eight (8) years old in 1984 so I knew nothing of the Olympics….not until high school I knew of Junior Olympics track and field with Orangeburg Track Club in South Carolina, while attending Cross High School on my high school track and field team.

[depressionisreal1996]

The Traumatized Omega

Chapter 2

Bold and Underlined=POV Change

Underlined=Line Break

Bold=TV Script

Italics=Thoughts

Wednesday's POV

       It started to rain. This puts me at ease a little bit. Oh, how I love the rain, I thought.

      "At least it's turning into a beautiful day," my mother seems to agree with my internal thoughts. We pulled up past the gates to Nevermore academy. I already hate it. I stare at it in disdain.

~Line Break~

      "Wednesday is certainly a unique name," the principle, Larissa Weems said to me, "I'm guessing it was the day you were born?"

      "I was born on Friday the 13th," I corrected her.

      "Her name comes from a line from my favorite nursery rhyme," my mother informed, "Wednesday's child is full of woe."

      "You always had a unique perspective on the world, Morticia," Weems told my mother with a playful tone. Though I did hear a little resentment. Wonder what happened between them, I thought.

      "Hmm," my mother hummed in agreement.

      "Did your mother tell you we were roommates back in the day," Weems asked me.

      "And you graduated with your sanity intact," I asked, "impressive."

      "You've certainly had a very interesting educational journey," Weems told me, looking through my file, "eight schools in five years."

      "They haven't built one strong enough to hold me," I informed her, " I bet this place won't be any different."

      "What our daughter is trying to say, is that she greatly appreciates the opportunity," my father tries to say. I really want to roll my eyes at his attempts to get me to stop.

      "Nevermore doesn't usually accept students mid-term, but given Wednesday's perfect grades," Weems said, still looking through the files, "and your family's history with the school, I've spoken with the board and we've made an exception."

      I didn't really like how she was able to make me an exception, as I really didn't want to attend this godforsaken school. I can already feel myself getting irritated by this school.

      "Larissa, what about Wednesday's, um, therapy sessions," my mother asked in concern, "the court ordered them."

      "Hmm. The school has a relationship with a therapist in Jericho," Weems replied, "she can meet twice a week, with another student, Y/N Y/L/N."

      Great, not only do I have to go to therapy made by the court, but have to go with another student.

      "Did you hear that, my little storm cloud," my father said, looking at me, "you're in excellent hands."

       "We'll see if she survives the first session," I said, looking at him. 

      "I've assigned you to your mother's old dorm," Weems said looking at me, "Ophelia Hall."

      My mother then gasps in enjoyment, and then chuckles. 

      "Refresh my memory," I said, looking at my mother, "Ophelia's the one who kills herself after being driven mad by her family, correct?"

      My mother nodded her head, looking at me with joy. Ew, I thought seeing the emotions in her eyes.

      "Should we go meet you new roommate," Weems said standing up. We all stood up and followed her to Ophelia hall, which took a while. Though, at one point I smelt a scent that resembles my typewriter ink. I wanted to follow it, but resisted. I have self-control, I thought to myself, still walking with my family and Weems. We finally made it to my new dorm room. My mother gasped at the bright colors when we went into the room. Great my roommate is colorful, I thought with disdain.

      "It's so... vivid," my father said, hesitantly. Then, a colorful person jump up from her chair and skipped up towards us. Not only is she colorful, but also very energetic. This is not going to go well for me.

    "Howdy, roomie," she said, inhaling excitedly.

      "Wednesday, this is Enid Sinclair," Weems introduces us, though I really didn't care, but I did keep this information in case she becomes valuable in my escape.

      "Are you feeling okay," Enid asks me, "you look a little pale."

       "Wednesday always looks half-dead," my dad said, looking at Enid like she has two heads.

      "Oh. Welcome to Ophelia Hall," she told me, walking up to me for a hug, which I stepped back so she wouldn't, "not a hugger. Got it."

      "Please excuse Wednesday," my mother told Enid, "she's allergic to color."

      "Oh, wow," Enid said, a little scared, "what happens to you?"

      "I break out into hives and then the flesh peels off my bones," I replied flatly. She looks grossed out by what I said, which I took satisfaction in.

      "Luckily, we've special ordered you a uniform," Weems said chuckling a little, "Enid, please take Wednesday to the register's office to pick it up along with her schedule, and give her a tour along the way."

      I turned around and looked at my parents with disdain. I then proceeded to walk out of the room, hearing my roommate skipping behind me. I already feel exhausted. 

~Line break~

       "Nevermore was founded in 1791, to educate people like us," Enid said as we walked down the stairs, "outcasts, freaks, monsters, fill in your favorite marginalized group here,"

      "You can save the sanitized sales pitch," I told her stopping in front of a case with pictures in it, "I don't plan on staying here for long."

      "Why not," Enid asks.

      "This was my parent's idea," I told her, when a photo of my mother caught my eye, "oh look, there's my mother smirking at me. They've been looking for any excuse to send me here, it's all part of their nefarious, yet completely obvious plan."

      "What plan," she asked.

      "To turn me into a version of themselves," I replied looking at her.

      "In that case, perhaps you can clear something up," she told me, turning around with me to continue on walking, "rumor's been swirling around that you killed a kid at your old school, and your parents pulled strings to get you off."

      "Actually, it was two kids, but who's counting," I asked, and she looked scared. I almost smirked at that.

      "Welcome to the quad," she said when we walked into a common place. It's a pentagon, why is she calling it a quad, I thought.

      "It's a pentagon," I replied flatly.

      "I t-t-t-told you E-e-e-enid," someone said behind us. I turned, to see a beautiful omega. I can tell by her scent, but another thing from her scent is that she smells like my typewriter ink. My alpha perked up at the sight and smell of her, which means one think. This omega, is my mate. Another thing about this omega is that she seems to be timid. This causes me to be more alert with her all of the sudden. Did someone hurt her, I thought, which caused my alpha to growl in anger. Normally omegas are outgoing, not timid. I snapped out of my thoughts. Why am I suddenly concerned for this random omega. Sure she is my mate, but I am not going to be like my parents.

      "Hi, Y/N, how are you," Enid ask the omega. This caused me to almost growl at her for talking to this omega, knowing she is an unmated alpha.

      "I-i-i-i'm good, E-e-e-enid, how a-a-a-are y-y-y-you," she replied back. I wonder if she was born with a stutter, or if it is from trauma. She has a dog with her, that has a vest that says service dog, do not touch. This really riles up my alpha, not liking that something happened to my omega mate. She then looks at me, and stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened, and she blushed. I smirked internally, pleased with her reaction. I stopped at this, not liking what this omega is doing to me. This is when Enid remembers me.

      "Y/N, this is Wednesday Addams, my new roommate," she told her. She nodded he head towards me shyly, "anyway, the whole snarky Goth girl thing might have worked at normie school, but here things are different."

      We continued walking around, with Y/N following us.

      "Let me give you a wiki on Nevermore's social scene," Enid told me, which I defiantly didn't want to know, as it was useless.

      "I'm not interested in participating in tribal adolescent cliches," I said blankly. I saw Y/N nodding her head in agreement. So she doesn't like knowing useless things as well, I though intrigued.

      "Well, then use it to fill your obviously bottomless pit of disdain," Enid shot back, "there are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners and Scales,"

      We walked by a table of vampires.

      "Those are the Fangs, AKA vampires," Enid told me, which I can figure out myself, "some of them have literally been here for decades,"

      Now by a table of werewolves.

      "That bunch of knuckleheads are Furs, AKA werewolves, like me," she said, followed by howling, "full moons get pretty loud around here, that's when Furs wolf out, so I suggest you pick up noise-cancelling headphones."

      I saw some people around a fountain, with one casually sticking her hand in the water. I automatically knew they were sirens.

      "I'm assuming Scales are sirens," I asked, though already knowing the answer. Y/N nodded to me, with a small smile.

      "You catch on quick, and that girl, Bianca Barclay," she said while pointing at the one with her hand in the water, "is the closest thing Nevermore has to royalty. Although her crown's been slipping lately, she used to date our resident tortured artist, Xavier Thorpe."

      She pointed at someone painting on a wall, who turned around and saw Y/N, and kept staring at her. This didn't sit well with me, so I discreetly put my body in front of Y/N to block him.

      "But they broke up at the beginning of the semester, reason unknown," Enid told me. I have a feeling that the reason they broke up is because he wants my mate, my omega. Damn it the family curse has its hold on me, I thought with disdain.

      "Fascinating," I said blankly, and relaxed to see Xavier no longer looking at Y/N.

      "I know, right," she exclaimed, which caused Y/N to flinch slightly and this caused me to frown slightly, "my vlog is, like, the number one source for Nevermore gossip."

      "Yo, Enid! You're not gonna believe the dirt I heard about your new roommate," an omega boy yelled out, which caused Y/N to once again to flinch but then relax and smiled happily at the fellow omega, "she eats human flesh, chowed down on that kid she murdered. You better watch your back."

      Enid moved out of the way to show this omega boy that I just heard everything he just said. This caused him to look at me in fear, even his little snakes were afraid of me, as one went back into his beanie.

      "Quite the contrary, I actually fillet the bodies of my victims," I said looking at him in the eyes, "then feed them to my menagerie of pets."

       "Ajax, this is my new roommate, Wednesday," Enid introduced me to him.

      "Whoa, you're in black and white, like a living Instagram filter," he said, which made me want to punch him. In the corner of my eyes, I saw Y/N put her face in her palms and shake her head, probably at his stupidity.

      "Ignore him, Gorgons spend way too much time getting stoned," Enid said, pushing the boy away from us, "he's cute, but clueless. It's a small school, there wasn't much online about you. You should really get on Insta, Snapchat and TikTok."

      "I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation," I told her, and walked away to get my uniform and schedule.

Y/N's POV

      This alpha, is my mate. This should be my happiest day, but I'm concerned. I know I'll have to tell her about my past, and she might reject me for being damaged. She also scares me, for the fact she is an alpha, I don't think I can trust another alpha that isn't Enid. I guess I'll have to watch how she acts.

[kakusu-shipping]

for your mha s/i

🩺Doctor: What is the worst injury that you/your self-insert has sustained in canon? If so, what was the cause and did you recover? What was your f/os reaction?

🔥Flame: Do you/your self-insert have an enemy? If so, who is it and why are they so hated? What was a particularly heated moment between you two?

@i-put-the-s4p-in-s4pphic

I actually have FOUR My Hero Academia Self Inserts, none of which I've talked about sense I stopped watching the show a while ago... So to make up for it I'll talk about all four of them!!!

Thankyou so much for your ask!!!

🩺Doctor: What is the worst injury that your self-insert has sustained in canon?

Hero - Luckily a lot of his injure have been pretty minor compared to Taishiro's. Not to say he hasn't been injured, both as a Hero and a Pro Baseball Player, but nothing that really stands out as too impactful. Taishiro plays it tough but he's a big ol worrier when someone he cares about gets hurt, so he'll fuss over Gumball if he so much as sprains and ankle though.

Villain - Complete opposite of Gumball, he's sustained so many Critical Injuries it's rather difficult to pinpoint on of importance. AFO found him both easy to fix and rather entertaining to break. When he started living with the League his rate of injury decreased, but the amount of worry increases. Jin especially freaked out when he as so much got a paper cut.

Student - This S/I is still sort of a WIP but if I were to guess, his worst injury would probably be something caused by the Hero Commission, probably while tagging along behind Hawks for training, before he was adopted by Nezu. He probably doesn't talk about those times much though, so neither Nezu nor Ojiro know about it.

Civilian - This S/I is also in WIP even though they're the oldest MHA S/I I have, they're probably the least finished just due to proximity to a Main Character combined with how far behind the series I've fallen. I image they might be injured during the War Arc for some reason but.. That'll just have to wait and see. Sorry for the non-answer!

🔥Flame: Do your self-inserts have any enemies? If so, who is it and why are they so hated?

Hero - Less of an enemy and more of a Rival; He and Shishido don't get along, much in the way Shishido and Gang Orca don't get along. It only got worse after he stole one of Shishido's Interns, Shoda, after a HLB match. He thought the kid made a good pitcher, what can he say!

Villain - MANY. Comes with the Villain territory. While he never actively met him, he does share the rest of the League's hatred for Kai Chisaki, both for killing one of his son's beloved friends, but also for being responsible for his brother's death. He was also the one set to keep eyes on the UA spy, and while he doesn't consider them enemies, he wouldn't be surprised to find out they think of him as such. He wouldn't blame them for it, either. (he's also constantly ready to throw down with Endeavor, though the opportunity never presented itself)

Student - Like Nezu probably the Hero Commission in General is Enemy number 1 to him, but the one person he puts the most blame on is Hawks, just do to proximity. Nezu's tried to convince him Hawks is like them, a victim of the Commission, but that's a hard pill to swallow when you're 14 years old and were constantly threatened if you couldn't keep up with someone twice your age. He'll probably be bitter about it for a long time.

Civilian - His wonderful beautiful person son, Neito Monoma's, parents. He's of course, very polite and calm and put together on the outside, but they drive him crazy. That's his perfect son boy boy son. They don't appreciate him like he does. If there wasn't an active war going on he'd fight them for custody and win. Neito pretends not to see the cracks in his not-legally-adopted father's patient smile.

[allys-corner]

These Thoughts in My Head - Part 1

*Quick note: Sorry about this being a two parter. It started short in my head, but then it turned into a way longer fic than anticipated. Let me know what you think and if you wanna read part 2. Thanks :) *

Summary: Reader is Tony Stark’s daughter who was involved in a bombing intended for Tony himself, because of this half her body is now completely mechanical. Years later, an enemy is able to hack her system and cause her to become aggressive towards everyone in the tower.

You knew Peter would never be able to hurt you, not even if it meant saving his team’s life. This provided your AI with the perfect opportunity to pick him as a target. You try to stop your legs from moving, but it is a useless effort. Your body moves on its own as it leads you towards your bedroom.

The door opens automatically as you approach. Looking straight into the camera near the ceiling, you hope that maybe FRIDAY would recognize the desperate look on your face. It doesn’t happen and your body proceeds to enter the room. Peter is deep asleep. His patrol ended about an hour ago, so you knew that he must be very exhausted. Your AI knew this as well. Taking calm steps towards the bed, you reach your side and pull out the drawer. Your hand grabs the pocketknife inside before crossing to the other side of the bed.

You can tell the exact moment that Peter’s senses you. The skin on the back of his neck bumps up before his eyelids slide open. He gazes up at you, sleepily confused.

“What’s up, baby? Is something wrong?”

That groggy voice usually makes you melt, but today was different. No response is given as you step closer to him. This is when his senses seem to pick up that something is up. On instinct, Peter launches himself backwards right as the knife pierces his pillow. You hear a rip as your body launches across the bed at Peter. The knife is jabbed towards Peter’s eye, but he grabs your wrist just in time. He holds it down on the blankets before blocking your oncoming fist with his arm. He uses his momentum to wrap your left arm behind your back while squeezing your wrist to break your grip on the knife.

“FRIDAY! Call somebody!” He yells as you already begin struggling in his grasp. You rear your head back and make contact with his cheekbone. Your internal screaming doesn’t seem to faze your AI as it uses the distraction to regain control of your right arm. Lunging for the knife on the bed, you feel your fingers grasp the handle. Turning to slice at Peter, your AI is distracted by the hiss of the automatic door.

Standing in the doorway is Tony, Steve, and Natasha. Peter sighs in relief above you, but the new additions seem to only enhance your AI’s rage. With newfound strength, you kick Peter in the chest before launching off the bed and into a crouch. The group is thrown off for a moment before taking action.

“FRIDAY, get Wanda down here now!” Tony commands as Steve steps closer to you. Tony’s grasps his arm tightly.

“What do you think you’re doing, Rogers?”

“Tony, you can’t just expect us to do nothing!”

“We’re not doing nothing. We wait on Wanda to get here.”

Waiting didn’t seem in the cards as the AI got tired of their bickering. Taking the chance to rush at Steve, your body is stopped by an arm wrapping itself around your waist. You hear Peter’s voice in your ear, and you pray that it will fix what’s happening. But it doesn’t. An elbow to the stomach makes Peter back up a bit. This is enough to allow you to twist out of his grasp and slip past the two heroes at the door. Wait, two? BAM!

~~~

Waking up from head trauma is never fun. You can contest this now that it’s happened to you. As you gather your bearings, you realize you’re in the hulk cell by how large the cage is. Good. They’re taking this seriously. You look around and notice that you are surrounded by your own reflection. I guess to keep me in the dark about what’s going on. Unfortunately, your AI system has access to the tower comms, therefore, making it able to hear and see everything going on outside.

The room consists of Tony, Peter and Bruce near a table gazing down at a Stark Pad while Wanda, Clint and Nat are perched on a couch nearby talking quietly to themselves. You hear footsteps approach as Steve strides into the rooms along with Bucky and Sam. The only ones missing seem to be Vision and Thor. Steve approaches the table that the engineers are gathered around.

“Bruce, have you found anything yet?” He asks.

“No,” Bruce sighs “Nothing is physically or mentally wrong with the human side of her body. She’s perfectly healthy.”

Steve looks disappointed, but not surprised. He turns to the couch.

“Wanda, what about you?”

“I was only able to glimpse bits and pieces. Anytime I would get too close to anything the AI would reboot itself.” Wanda must have looked inside your mind while you were out. Although you bristled at the thought of her seeing something personal, you were glad they were trying everything to break this.

“That’s the same problem FRIDAY is having. If she can’t get to the source before the reboot, then it’s like pulling teeth. It also doesn’t help that her coding is very complex and hard to get through.” Tony rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry for that one guys.” He puts his coffee mug down before picking up the pad.

Bruce rolls his eyes before adding, “the good news is that we are making progress it’s just very slow, so, there’s that.”

Steve speaks up again. “Any suspected locations of where this may be coming from?”

“No, but we do have footage of her leaving the tower and returning a couple hours later looking, well, about like she does now. Crazy eyes and anger issues.” Tony explains.

“Okay… Bucky, Sam and I will work on trying to get any footage from when she was outside the tower. Clint and Nat, you guys should try to get in touch with Nebula and Thor,” Steve turns “and Wanda the same with Vision.”

Everyone proceeds to pile out of the room leaving just Bruce, Tony, and Peter. Tony looks at Peter with a tired expression.

“Peter, you need to go suit up in case something happens.”

“With all due respect Mr. Stark, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t think I feel the same way.” You see tears start to gather in your father’s eyes, and you are crushed with guilt. Your dad has already been through so much, and you were just making it worse.  “That’s my little girl in there acting like a wild hydra assassin. But we need to be ready, that way we can protect her.” Tony rests his hands on Peter’s shoulder “I won’t leave her, Pete. I promise.”

Even with that assurance, Peter is still very reluctant as he leaves. He turns back to you about a hundred times before he is out of view. Once he leaves, Tony seems to deflate. He looks like even the slightest breeze could blow him over. He has that distant look in his eyes, like he does when he’s blaming himself.

          Now that the AI knows the team’s plan, it begins to devise its own. Although the hulk cell may look indestructible, there was a fail-safe that your father put in there just in case someone got stuck inside. He didn’t know you knew about this as you had discovered it a couple years back when you had snuck in here to hide from him. As slowly as you could, you pulled your body towards the small panel in the back corner. Using the pin in your hair to pop the panel off, you take a look at the wiring. Now if you knew your dad correctly, he always used a red wire with a gold tip to indicate the cord needed to be cut. Since they had confiscated your pocketknife, yanking out the cord was the only option. Unplugging the cord causes the door to slide open, and you take advantage of your dad and Bruce’s surprise to sprint out of the cage. Unfortunately, their table is right next to the exit.

You try to keep running, but the Iron Man suit blocks your way out. A gauntlet is pointed your way.

“Whoever you are, you need to give me back my daughter right now.” Tony demands. Up until this point you didn’t know if your AI could speak, but it replies calmly.

“Are you sure this is your daughter? She seems more metal than flesh to me.”

“Of course she is, and if you’re inside her head right now, you know it too.”

“Hmm, a story so tragic,” the AI mocks “Stark child loses half her body to an explosion meant for her father. You must feel so guilty.”

“Shut up. You will never understand the guilt I carry around every day for that, but I know she’s already forgiven me for it a hundred times over. That’s the person she is, and who you will never be.” Tony takes a menacing step forward with the gauntlet still raised. “I’m going to get her back and no one or nothing is going to stop me. So, we can play this any way you want because, no matter what, the outcome will always be the same. So why don’t you get back in that cell for me.” Tony demands.

The AI seems taken aback for a second before grinning sharply.

“What are you going to do Stark? Hmm. Harm your own daughter? Haven’t you done that enough?” It taunts.

“This shoots electromagnetic waves, therefore, shutting down the tech side of the body for long enough to figure out how to get y/n back.”

“But Stark I think you forget that the technology inside of me is also keeping y/n alive. Remember the piece you had to put in her lung? She can’t breathe without it.” Tony shrinks back while sending a concerned glance at Bruce. Your AI breaks into motion as it shoves into Tony’s arm hard enough to knock him out of the doorway and make your escape.

END OF PART ONE

[cha-melodius]

Hi! :)

I apologise if you already did something like this, but I had a thought, so I wanted to share it: TMFU RWRB AU. If we ignore/rewrite ~100 years of history, Illya could be a member of the Russian tsar family (who would still be in power in this AU). And Napoleon could be the son of the US president. Do you have any thoughts on it?

Alternatively (thought this wouldn't really be a RWRB AU, but I thought of it during the scene where Alex is memorising facts about Henry's life), Illya could be a member of the tsar family and Napoleon could be a spy sent on a mission to spy on him (I guess part of the objective would be getting close to Illya and winning his trust, so Napoleon would plan to seduce him). So, Napoleon learns all about Illya from the files, memorises all his likes and dislikes and such, and then goes to Russia to carry out his mission. He falls in love with Illya for real, but unfortunately, Illya finds out that he is a spy and he gets angry and starts believing that none of Napoleon's feelings were genuine. Cue lots od angst. But they'd make up eventually, of course.

Hope you have a great day!!

So I've had someone prompt a RWRB AU for lokius, but I had never considered a napollya one, and it's kind of shocking how well it works give how different the source materials are lmao.

Honestly "if we ignore/rewrite ~100 years of history" is a great premise for an AU to start with. Yes, absolutely, let's do Russian royalty is still a thing, but also if the US and Russia still don't really like each other that much? If they're one false move away from open hostilities? A ridiculous spat like falling into a cake could ACTUALLY cause an international incident and be devastating for foreign relations. Also consider Illya losing his father at a young age (not dead in TMFU, but could be adapted that way), absolutely being a frigid ass to Napoleon at every opportunity because Napoleon is too damned pretty, and of course Illya could never, ever actually be gay openly. Napoleon would make a great FSOTUS heartthrob, with Gaby in the Nora role? Perfection. The only thing idk is what Waverly's role in all of this could be. There are some interesting potential twists too, like if Illya is an only child like in TMFU canon he'd actually be the heir to the throne. (Why do I kind of feel like this would end with the fall of the alternate-history Russian monarchy? 😅)

Ok, and I also LOVE your second option too, I'd probably set this one in the last days of the actual Russian monarchy. All the hidden identity stuff would be SO painful and so amazing. I'm just getting a feeling like Illya wouldn't easily trust people, so it takes a while for Napoleon to break past his walls, which makes the fact that Napoleon ultimately betrays the trust when Illya opens up to him so much worse. Of course he'd manage to prove himself to Illya and probably help Illya escape in the end.

Thanks so much for sending these in, they were a lot of fun to think about!

[jellyluchi]

Happy Birthday Prosciutto 2022/2023

A/N: It's Prosciutto's birthday in an RP game I'm part of and my personal HC for his birthday is January 9th. So I thought of combining the two and writing something for him!

Pairing: Prosciutto x Reader Genre: Fluff Warnings: None Summary: You plan an elaborate birthday gift for your loving husband, hoping it helps him relax from work.

With the sun going down and Prosciutto’s nose deep inside some work on his computer, he barely notices when the room gets dark, his concentration overtaking his mind. It presents a perfect opportunity for you to bring out the little surprise you’ve been planning for a while. 

Unfortunately for you, Prosciutto is not one to enjoy celebrating birthdays. You know his history, the past that hinders his ability to let loose or enjoy himself. You’ve had to ask yourself how to plan a special occasion for someone who wouldn’t want it to be special at all… someone who has been made to believe he’s not special at all. 

As you watch your husband work, you start setting up his little cake. A small black forest with just a handful of candles. While not a fan of black forest cake yourself, the thought of seeing his excitement at the treat makes you excited.

His birthday present, however, is something you planned for months. But didn’t purchase the gift until it hit a week before the date, eyeing the planned present over and over whenever you went shopping. The satisfaction of finally buying the item combined with the anticipation of Prosciutto’s reception made my heart flutter. You almost found yourself counting down to the date until it was time. 

While the cake was not custom made, you made sure with the bakery that they would carry his favorite flavor in store during the time. But the hardest part had to be keeping it all a secret from your husband. There have never been lies between you two and you didn’t want to start now, instead opting to omit anything that he didn’t need to know. Particularly your meticulously planned birthday gift. 

The clock chimes 12 am and Prosciutto still finds himself working, not realizing the state of darkness in the room nor the time having passed the evening. You remember him saying he’d like to take a break after a few hours, and you internally apologize to him for using his work as a distraction to prepare so much. 

Stealthily, you male your way to his side, holding up the small cake, the candles lit and the only other source of illumination barring his computer. 

Finally, as you stand next to him, the flames in the candle catches his attention. 

“Buon compleanno, mio amore,” you say, taking him completely by surprise. “I know, you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday as readily as I do, but I cannot help celebrating the most important person in my life. I’m… so glad you were born, that we met, that I fell in love and have you by my side. You are so special to me… so I hope you will let me be selfish and allow me to celebrate you, even if it’s between just the two of us. Please, make a wish!” 

Prosciutto stares at you in awe, not having expected the sweet little speech that you prepared. Speechless, he decides to attempt at making a wish, realizing he doesn’t have many thoughts about wishing other than making a good life for you two. As he blows out the candles, you place the cake on his desk, going to turn on the light and produce a knife. 

“Do you want to cut the cake, or should I?” 

“Tesoro…” he whispers, his expression somewhat unreadable. Anxiety strikes your heart, making you think perhaps you’d done a little bit too much. Perhaps it was disturbing him while he works and the thought of disappointing him makes you second guess your surprise. “I…” 

Prosciutto sighs. You expected him to be somewhat speechless but your heart stole hopes he does not take it as something uncomfortable. 

“Thank you,” he says, looking at you and then back at the cake. There is somewhat of an appreciative expression on his face, albeit tired from working. “No one has wished me a happy birthday in this manner before. Pesci has tried in the past but… somehow you make it more special than it ought to be.” He gives an endearing look towards the cake, a mixture of fondness and melancholy that you wish you could turn into a bright beaming smile. 

Bringing him his knife you hand it over. 

“I’m so relieved. It’s a small tradition that my family once used to do during birthdays. And I reckoned you deserve the same treatment. The cutting is part of it. Would you like to hold it with me?” 

You hover the knife over the cake and Prosciutto joins you, allowing you both to slice through the smooth interior easily. When he lets go, you slice another bit of the cake, making a small triangular piece that you hold up to his face. Reluctantly, and with some red appearing on his cheeks, your husband allows you to feed him a bite. 

“Happy birthday my darling,” you smile at him, seeing the way he struggles to eat the whole piece, still enjoying the sweet. Unexpectedly, he grabs you by the base of your neck, kissing you in a flash, tasting of chocolate and cherries. 

“Grazie, mio amore.” 

Just as he’s about to go back to work, though with a big smile on his face, you stop him immediately. 

“Pros, you’ve been working for hours, it’s midnight! Plus, you’ve yet to receive your real present.” 

“Tch… you went with the hassle of buying a present…” 

“Of course I did. You’re my husband. You know how much I love to spoil you rotten.” Your words make an angry yet adorably shy expression appear on his face. But he doesn’t want to allow himself to be flustered by you just yet. 

“Oh, and is this present something you will be wearing in our bedroom?” He remembers last year’s gift very well… 

Heat creeps to your cheeks just a little bit. 

“No, it’s something both of us can enjoy. Now turn this off and come receive it!” 

Unable to deny his spouse, Prosciutto turns off his computer, satisfied with the work he did get to finish. You both leave the cake inside the fridge before you pull him into the bedroom. 

He waits curiously as you sift through the closet and he’s somewhat impressed he never realized you hid something back there. 

“This is your present,” you say, presenting him with a medium-sized basket full of goodies. “I curated a DIY spa day for us. There’s clay masks, sheet masks, even foot masks if you’re into that…” Prosciutto raises an eyebrow. “And toners, moisturizers, lotions, body oils…everything! I thought you could use a little break from work and have a spa day together… just for you to relax. I know work has been busy so I wanted you to have some time to care for yourself.” 

Prosciutto picks up some of the goodies, feeling the bath towel and reading some of the mask’s labels with a pleased eye. 

He chuckles. “How did I get so lucky? Thank you, my love. You have no idea how much I appreciate this…” He cups your cheek, looking into your eyes with a type of sincerity that is unparalleled to anything you’ve seen on someone else. Prosciutto hasn’t always been good with words but his eyes communicate more of his feelings than he ever could himself. And you feel the relief washing over you knowing he’s more happy with his present than he can say. 

This time, you go up to him, giving him a tentative kiss on his cheek, the smile never leaving his face. You think how you would love for him to cage this expression on his face forever, to never let his smile falter...to protect it with everything you have. 

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[wishforged]

one who walks in shadow: mahoyaku's zara

the heroine doesn't always want the prince on a white horse to take her away for the sake of eternal love -- sometimes she wants him for the opportunity he presents. "save me from my circumstances. put me somewhere I can live freely, not languish," she insists. I think ariadne pinned her hopes on theseus for a reason like this; living on crete at the time doesn't seem to have been very fulfilling. of course, waiting for someone else to save you tends to not work out too well.

pic related

transposing this to a more modern context, there's the lure of marriage for some women as a way to leave the family home. by breaking free from the control of their parents, they will gain some measure of independence, or so the theory goes.

modern problems

then we have the setting of mahoyaku, a fantasy world separate from our own in which people have magical powers that burden them and grant them agency in complex ways. how does misogyny (obviously interconnected to marriage, female agency, etc) operate systemically in this universe? we don't have much information. we know a few hundred years ago, an associate of murr's (Known Feminist) faced discrimination while trying to open her own observatory. but this is spoken of as a thing of the past.

I'm not sure if anything like this is mentioned elsewhere -- feel free to enlighten me if there's something I'm missing.

with all this in mind, we come to zara, one of mahoyaku's only female characters to have a visual appearance. in part 2, she's given a lot of prominence. zara, a witch, develops an obsession with rustica after her sister becomes engaged to him.

I am tempted to read zara's fixation on rustica in the context of a woman seeking marriage to escape her circumstances. zara is, after all, a woman trapped in a literal tower by an abusive family. there is a repeated emphasis on marriage as an institution. rustica is not looking for not just his lover but his "bride." and zara seethes with jealousy over aria's pending marriage, specifically: "He should have been my husband, not hers."

but this is a bit reductive, because again, we don't really know the deal with misogyny in the world of mahoyaku. and I guess TECHNICALLY there is nothing wrong with a female character being in love with a man and that being her main motivation for why she does the things she does, if executed well... but I think bunta has other motivations here, and I'm interested in looking a little deeper into things.

all this to say, if we're putting aside a reading that looks at zara primarily as a woman living in a misogynistic society, what's the deal with zara?!

first of all, as a result of being locked up in a tower and getting no affection and love from basically anyone ever except her sister, zara hates herself.

zara is a witch -- twins are considered unlucky as a set, but we're led to understand that this is why her parents keep her imprisoned instead of aria. however, she's convinced herself there is something innate in her that's wrong. it's a classic case of a victim internalizing abuse. she's telling herself she deserves what she gets because she is someone who is simply meant to "slink through the shadows." otherwise she'd be allowed to live as freely as rustica does. that's how I interpret these lines, at least.

to zara, rustica is a Thing -- one that aria gets to have because aria is a human and not a wizard. it's not fair! after all, rustica is so great. he's perfect and kind and blessed by the sun and the moon... zara idealizes rustica to an extreme. she wants to have him, and she wants to be him, too.

yeah, rustica's beautiful eyes can only see a beautiful world, much like the naive aria, who probably needs to think a little harder about how things suck for other people.

zara's feelings towards aria and rustica are pretty similar, actually. she thinks of them both as pure beings who have never experienced real misfortune. the difference is that because zara sees aria as a reflection of herself, aria Must have something wrong with her. on the other hand, because rustica is unattainable for zara, his value increases in her eyes. she's placed him on so high up of a pedestal.

zara broods and broods alone in her tower, developing resentment towards her sister, who has never been anything but kind to her. to justify her resentment, and because she sees aria as a reflection of herself, she ascribes malice to her.

it turns out zara is actually right about aria not being "pure," because that's not really something any actual person can be. mahoyaku, with its plethora of deeply human, flawed, morally gray characters, won't let us forget this. thus the curse zara places on aria comes true. rustica kills aria because of the curse and basically loses it as a result.

according to kelvin, he then chooses to lose his memories after "a philosopher" (probably murr) suggests it to him, to save himself the pain. rustica then becomes the charming, forgetful western wizard looking for his bride that we all know and love.

zara decides this is fine. hell, she'll even help him out... by keeping him in a beautiful gilded cage of blissful ignorance.

zara is free of her parents, but she's again confined to the shadows through her own actions. this time she's keeping herself in a cage. this is a really tragic aspect of her character.

why does she do this? so she can atone for her actions.

her fixation on rustica is even greater now. she's desperate to keep him in the dark so he can keep living as the pure, bright person she was so fascinated by when they met. in a way, this is love.

a normal person's room decor

what will happen next? well, rustica is a sage's wizard now, but zara is sure as hell not leaving his fate up to chance after spending 400 years as his evil little guardian angel. so she's planning to kill the strongest wizards and use their mana stones to create some kind of contraption that will defeat the Great Calamity once and for all. don't worry guys zara's handling it

zara says she wants to atone, which would mean she feels guilt over causing aria's death. in some ways this is probably true. but it's also true that aria desperately wants to prevent rustica from seeing the world for what it is -- a place that's often messy and cruel -- and there must be other reasons for that. why is it so important for zara that rustica be kept "pure"? despite everything, she wants him to be happy... the part of zara that loves rustica, and wants to atone for causing aria's death, is probably the best part of her.

as someone who has always lived in the shadows, she must desperately want to be seen for who she is. but after all that she's done, zara is aware that person isn't pretty.

the lyrics to skin-deep comedy, the part 2 theme song, are from zara's point of view. she's lived for a long time; she's colder now, and in some ways more malignant. she's become convinced that the ends justify the means. she wants to change, and she thinks she can, through her plans. she wants to be defined by more than just her mistakes. again, she wants to be seen.

I started this post with a bit of an indictment of mahoyaku's worldbuilding, and while I would still like to know more about the role of women in the world of this game, there's still plenty of room and time for the story to explore this. joseimuke franchises are somewhat limited in scope because they are, of course, first and foremost marketed towards women who like anime dudes, but female audiences are accommodating of and interested in a lot of different things. mahoyaku has already proved itself to be rather progressive-- eg. the ability to choose genders for your player character -- and bunta writes their characters with a lot of love and care. I'm looking forward to more of what the game has to tell us about zara.

----

I cannot read Japanese, so all my thoughts and summaries here are derived from fan translations. translations for the observatory story are by healingbonds. translations for chapters 18-22 of the main story's part 2 are by cainluver69.

[arclith]

I started doing daily drawings again but I've forgotten to post them here oops :P.

Here's the 9 I've done so far. For some context most of these are my OC's. I know I've posted Neoma here before and Zeva was in one or two of my works here but the others were not so I guess some introductions are in order. But before the yap session, some context on number 7 and 8.

Drawing 7 was for april fools, I had promised a Neoma drawing for that day so I made this and posted it with the caption "Probably most Epic Neoma Drawing ever" with content warning over it on twitter and bluesky. Drawing 8 was a study I did of a Ryuko figure sitting on my desk, I don't do digital lineless paint very often unless it's for a background so it was fun practice!

The first drawing is of Zeva's brother Nevis. He's an extremely intelligent person who's seen some pretty nasty things being a researcher intern for a major corporation since he was just a kid (he's just that smart and studious). He barely ever gets any sleep even though he's only an intern cause they work him to the bone with almost no time to rest. Through private testing he learned he has the strange ability interact with anything that's reflected on any object. Because of this he always carries a handmade revolver on him (to him guns are the most effective weapon to use for his ability).

The second drawing is of my boy Zeva! Him and Nevis were pretty close as kids but as Nevis went away for his "internship" and their mother passed away he was forced to live with his pretty miserable father. After some events (saving that for when I actually make my Webcomic) he ends up far from home and alone on the streets of the largest city on the planet New Cider City. As a young kid he has to learn to fend for himself on the brutal streets of the New Cider City outskirts. As he grows he learns he needs to make money somehow to survive so he does street performances using break-dancing moves he makes up by watching people at skate parks he hangs at. Because he gets so fluent at it break dancing is also the way he fights! Years after he's survived on the streets he meets Neoma and gets an opportunity to learn about his special ability from a Master of some sort. His special ability is to manipulate the moisture of the air and the ions around coluds. It's a pretty useful ability!

The fourth drawing is of Zeva and Neoma doing graffiti together, it's something they do to bond. It's a activity they came to do after they realized it would be the perfect activity for Zeva who was molded by street and skate culture and Neoma who has a passion for making art.

The sixth drawing is of Lyna. She is the aforementioned Master. She is highly skilled in the martial arts and seems to know a lot of specifics about how superhuman abilities work. Her ability is to create stars, if she creates one using her left hand it has an explosion that can be set off by slapping her left wrist. If she create one with her right hand it creates a bright flash of light that can be set off by slapping her right wrist.

For the the last drawing (todays drawing) As I previously said I've already talked about Neoma here a bit like her time based ability and her passion for art. This was really just the Neoma art I initially promised before April fools LMAO

Anyway if you've made it all the way to the end congrats! You've withstood my detailed yet vague OC lore dump LMAO. I hope you enjoyed that, thank you for reading and enjoying my art :D

[soleilnomoon]

CONGRATS ON 555+ FOLLOWERS!! THATS AMAZING!! AND AN OPPORTUNITY TO THROW IN A REQUEST TOO?? DONT MIND IF I DOO~

may I order a caramel mocha latte, with a konpeitō, a lemon drop, and a candy necklace? and maybe a dollop of whipped cream too? the name for the order will be Trafalgar Law from One Piece, please! 👉👈🥹🥰💕✨

omg thank you so much, i really appreciate that 🤭💛💕also thank u for your patience, this was a beast to write - law is impossible and i'm stubborn, but i finished it and survived (i hope u survive too) <3 please enjoy your sugar rush ༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

4.2k words (i know, i know), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, fluff (somewhere, it's there, believe me), a bit of angst bc i'm a sucker for that stuff, and a lot of smut; modern/office au (hope u don't mind), fake dating/marriage; law's a little mean but reader dishes it right back & has a solid bite, so it balances out, i think; also lots of pining and flirting, tiny bit of jealousy, etc.

“absolutely not.”

you place your coffee mug onto the counter and stare, wide-eyed at the tall bastard before you. trafalgar law is the most audacious man you’ve ever met, and even more so, he insists himself upon you whenever he can — almost as if he gets off on seeing you fly off the handle and mouth off at him. men who are handsome like him — dark, enigmatic, a force to be reckoned with if you’re not careful — are a complication that you don’t need in your life.

“a favor,” he says, leaning against the counter, towering over you in a way that makes you want to slap him, “and it’ll just be for one night.” 

again you stare, and shake your head, curls bouncing around in defiance, almost as if they too agree with your decision.

“no. i don’t know how many more times i need to say it for you to get it through your thick skull.”

you’re laying it on thicker than necessary, but the truth of the matter is, law makes you nervous. most people don’t; if anything, you’re the one who intimidates others. but him? you can’t accurately get a read on him, nor can you ever guess what he’s thinking. he always looks at you as if he’s figured you out, giving you sly smiles that make you want to dump your coffee on him daily. your friends say you overreact, your mother implies that there’s something going on between you two — made worse by the fact that law is too damn good at buttering her up with his politeness — and your coworkers are under the impression that you’re one argument away from fucking in the break room.

you don’t know which of those is worse.

“you’re being dramatic,” he counters, tongue running along his bottom lip as he considers switching tactics; you get distracted, stare at his mouth a little too long, which of course catches his attention. a smirk slips onto his lips as he leans forward. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

a scoff leaves your mouth faster than you can stop it. 

he presses his lips together and tries again. “let’s make a bet, then. if i win, you’ll be my date for my friend’s party.” a wedding anniversary of all things; a completely useless affair, but law is loyal to a fault, and he already said he was going and bringing someone. everyone else annoys him, except you; so naturally you’re the perfect candidate. it also helps that he knows you’re as attracted to him as he is to you — you’re just stubborn as hell.

“go on,” you say wearily and dump the remainder of your coffee out in the sink. “what happens when you lose?”

it’s not cockiness that drives him to say, “i won’t lose, but if it does happen, i’ll let you have one of my high profile clients.”

a lucrative deal, one that has you roll your bottom lip in between your teeth, and internally debate as you consider the slight possibility of you losing. on the other hand, if you win you’ll walk out with the satisfaction of beating law at his own game, and scoring another client; this might actually work if you put your mind to it.

“what’s the bet?” you narrow your eyes at him but lose a bit of nerve when you see the heated glance he sends your way; you busy yourself with rinsing your mug out several times over for some reason, the water cold enough to shake those pesky thoughts away from your mind.

law’s mouth curves into a devilish grin as he drops his voice. “i can help you with your,” he pauses, giving you a knowing look, one that brings a silly flush to your face, “little problem.”

if your rising blood pressure doesn’t kill you, his incessant teasing will. “what ‘little’ problem is that?” you’re already regretting this, but you’re too curious to not see this through. “whatever it is, i doubt you’ll actually be able to help, as useless as you are.” it’s not true, he’s far from useless, but you know that if you feed him a compliment, you’ll regret that too. 

“see that’s why your problem will never go away,” he sighs at that before continuing, “i’m talking about the problem where you can’t seem to cum no matter what you do.”

he has more to say, but you shoot forward and clamp your hands around his mouth — his foolish, stupid mouth — muffling the rest of whatever nonsense he wants to spew. “who told you that?” your voice comes out in a harsh whisper, which only makes him laugh behind your hand, his breath tickling your palm, your face growing hotter as you look around to make sure that no one else is around.

there’s no way he’ll reveal that, but you look so cute when you’re all determined like that.

law pries your hands off of him. “it doesn’t matter. so, what do you say?”

you have so many questions, but know if you hurl them at him left and right, he might be prompted to do something and you’re not prepared for what he has in store for you. 

“let me get this straight. if you somehow manage to make me cum,” your voice is so soft, he has to lean close to hear you properly, “i have to accompany you to your friend’s party.”

“it’s a simple bet, really.”

nothing about the bet is simple, but the point is that you’re fairly certain you can win this — if you remain strong, that is.

“fine.” 

you steel your face, hoping that your lip stops quivering so you can appear every bit as unaffected as you claim you are. he doesn’t buy the act, and leans forward, his face just a breath away, the tip of his nose grazing yours; you’re sure he’s going to kiss you and, on instinct, your lips part — you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious or excited over the possibility. 

law tilts his head slightly, envisioning the satisfying checkmate that lies in his future, eyelids lowering, partially obscuring his amber eyes; you swallow thickly and don’t bother taking a step back. you know if you do, you’ll lose — and you’re not sure if the bet has started or not, but you need all the strength you can muster to survive. 

“wonderful,” he says, voice resonant — vibrating against your skin, another bothersome flush stretching over your cheeks, making it impossible to breathe — “see you later, then.” and then, he straightens up and walks away.

small, crescent-shaped indents appear on your palms from how deeply you sink your nails into your skin. it’s not anger you feel at him, so much as it is agitation with yourself. if only he could be a little more predictive, you’d have the upper hand. but, as you watch his retreating form, you realize, belatedly, that maybe — just maybe — you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. you don’t like the thought of that, at all.

you expect him to find you after work, but he leaves early; strange, but not entirely abnormal. to say you’re disappointed wouldn’t be untrue, but you have no intention of openly admitting that. the following morning, he comes in late, grinning and joking with the manager, loud enough to catch your attention. you carefully peek outside of your office, doing your best to look casual and inconspicuous; he feels you watching him, but since your attitude needs a bit of taming, he ignores you. 

normally, law finds a reason to appear at your office around lunchtime, always inviting you to eat with him and a few others — and, while you tend to decline more often than not, you feel a bit unsettled when he doesn’t come by. strange. very, very strange. on the third day you’re sure you’re losing your mind. he hasn’t spoken to you in 72 hours — you haven’t been counting, that would be absurd — which should bring you some semblance of peace and joy, but it doesn’t. 

disappointment makes your coffee taste sour. it sits in your stomach, hard like concrete, impossible to digest, and even more annoying to chip away at.

you think about the way he almost kissed you — and you were very sure he was going to kiss you, if you hadn’t been so opposed to him crowding routinely crowding your space — and the way your skin never fully recovered, a feverish madness taking over your mind, filling every crevice of your thoughts with images of him — his lips, his long fingers, the way he always seems to have some sort of inside joke with himself whenever he looks at you. 

it affects your attitude at work; you snap at your coworkers, refuse to participate in whatever menial meeting the manager tries to drag you to, and spend most of your day in your office. until you can’t take it anymore.

four days, that’s all it takes. he’s impressed with your resolve and even more impressed with the fact that you haven’t cursed him and his future descendants to hell and back for keeping you at bay. he knows that you’re like a dog with a bone, eager to investigate, determined to see things through immediately. but law is much more feline, and enjoys the hunt more than anything. he didn’t know how much longer he could keep away from you, but he’s very grateful that you’ve finally made up your mind about things.

you stomp over to his office on the other end of the hall, barging in, irritation prickling underneath your skin at the sight of one of the temp workers leaning over his desk and going above and beyond with showing him some simple graphs she put together. you don’t like the way her fingers graze his, don’t like the way she intentionally drops her voice to whisper something unintelligible at him, and you really don’t like how he glances up at you, a slow, amused grin spreading onto his lips with ease.

the other woman glances over at you, confusion etched into her pretty face; you absolutely detest her right now. 

“umm,” she starts, straightening up, eyes widening at the sight of you. her nervousness should be a sign for you to ease up a bit, but you don’t. “hi, i’m not sure we’ve met properly yet, but i’m—”

you glance at her for no longer than a few seconds, your indifference pushing you to curtly say, “move.” she stutters over her words, not quite understanding, so you say it in a different way. “get. out.” of the office, you mean. she doesn’t wait for you to say it again. when the door shuts behind her, you march over to him, lips fixed in a thin line, eyes blazing as you jab a manicured finger against his chest. the sight is plenty unprofessional, what with the top buttons of his shirt undone, his jacket draped lazily over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his button up rolled up and exposing his thick forearms. 

you try to ignore it all, but you can’t.

“you,” there’s nothing else you want to say, nothing else you can say; you’ve already scared off the newbie, you know there will be a memo or meeting about it later. but you don’t care; you really, truly don’t. “what is your problem?”

he supposes he likes this side of you best — the petty, jealous side, the one you try to keep hidden but can’t help but let out whenever you feel threatened in the shallowest way. still, he knows better than to say this out loud; he’d like to leave the office in one piece today.

“that was unnecessarily harsh of you,” he says in lieu of answering your question. you’re normally not that venomous, but for some reason, you felt compelled — jealousy is not something you deal with well, and you know you’ll need to apologize properly later, but you can’t think about that right now. all you can think about is somehow wiping that disgustingly handsome look off his face. law grabs your wrist, his long, tattooed fingers wrapping around it securely, the contact from his skin searing you, stirring a frenzy within you, making you want impossible things all at once. your breath catches in your throat the moment he pulls you onto his lap, your brain ceasing any functional capabilities as you straddle him, skirt riding up higher, exposing your thighs, your skin smooth and silky to the touch.

all your fight leaves your body as you concede to your desires.

“took you long enough to come to me.” he presses a single, burning kiss against the inside of your wrist, setting your body and nerves aflame. “four days is a long time, y/n… i’m not a patient man.” he really isn’t, but for you, he always will be.

you roll your eyes, do your best not to whimper when he kisses your other wrist, all your self-preservation and stubbornness melting away. “it’s your fault,” you say childishly, earning a quiet chuckle from him. “you said…”

he raises a brow at you, prompting you to continue.

your nerves almost get the best of you, but you don’t let them win. “you were going to—”

“make you cum, yes.” you’re taking much too long, and the softness of your body only makes it that much more difficult to concentrate on your words; he doesn’t bother hiding his erection, nor does he seem to mind when you jerk your hips against his when he kisses the palm of your hand. 

“god, are you going to make me say it?” you can’t believe him; if you had the energy, you’d slap him, you really would — but you’re tapped out, too hot and bothered to fight him anymore. 

“i’ve never been called god before,” he muses out loud, you narrow your eyes at him and he laughs again. “yes, i need to hear you say it.” because what’s the point if he has to do everything himself?

your throat constricts, face grows hot all over again, and you’re sure you’ll regret this later, but you manage to squeak out, “i want you.” it’s a confession that’s a few years too late, but he’ll take that over rejection any day. you forget that the point is to prevent him from winning his bet, but the idea of him touching you, of him making you beg, makes it impossible to do things the way you want to.

“now, doesn’t that feel good? to say it out loud, finally?” 

his arrogance knows no bounds, but you can’t continue fighting him, not when your body is at its limit. 

“stop teasing me, damn it.”

he really can’t help himself, but he supposes he ought to throw you a bone for coming this far. “sit on the desk,” he says, and releases his hold on your wrists.

when you don’t move, a hardened edge coats each word that comes out of his mouth afterwards. “it’s not a request.” you suppose you might as well listen, there’s no turning back at this point, and you want to get this over with — and prove to yourself that once and for all that you don’t actually like him, that this is a one time thing, and that you’ll be able to move on with your life afterwards.

you’re gravely mistaken, but you don’t know that yet.

he watches you scramble off of his lap and hoist yourself onto his desk, scattering the papers he was reviewing onto the floor. swiveling in his chair to face you, he tilts his head again, eyes darkening as you squeeze your thighs together. the way he unnerves you, the way he makes you want to act out, it’s so unsettling; you want to keep chasing that feeling until you’re certain it’s a fluke.

“do i need to keep spelling things out for you?”

licking your lips, you understand the silent command, tugging your skirt up higher and spreading your legs for him. for a moment, neither of you say anything, a charged tension hanging above both of your heads, making you light-headed as your breathing slows. it’s not like you want him to know, but it’s too hard to hide your arousal, especially with the dampness that stains the front of your panties. 

“take them off.” 

you don’t know what possesses you to listen, but you do, hook your thumbs underneath the lace band of your panties and pull them down slowly. because he’s so dedicated to observing you, he watches carefully, gaze sharp and hawkish, another flush crawling along your face, down your throat, spilling onto your chest — making it difficult to breathe again. he wishes he could capture this all on video, so he could revisit it later, because the sight of you, so vulnerable, practically trembling on his desk as your arousal seeps onto his desk, ruining one of the documents sitting underneath you. 

his laughter isn’t mocking so much as it is just thinly veiled amusement at your compliance; it takes on a life of its own and nestles itself inside of you, warming your chest, making your heart beat faster than necessary. 

law flicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his cock hard enough to make him want to fuck you right then and there; but, because he waited this long already, he’s willing to move at your pace. he runs a finger along your folds slowly, your irritation spiking at the way you melt at his touch, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip to stifle the insufferable noises that dare to come out of your mouth. he glances at you, disapproving of your choice to keep your true feelings hidden as he stands up suddenly. with his free hand he tugs your lip free, sucking his teeth at your defiance, hand gripping your face roughly.

“i don’t think you understand,” he says briskly, his finger running up and down your slit, a soft whimper prancing along the back of your mouth, tumbling into the air recklessly. “we’re playing by my rules, not yours.” you inhale sharply, eyes widening at his words, your whimpering steadily increasing in volume when he grazes your clit with the tip of his finger. “now,” his lips graze your jaw, breath warm and dizzying, “be a good girl and spread your legs wider.”

you do your best to comply, gasping when you feel him slip his finger inside of you — a welcomed intrusion that has you rolling your hips forward; his eyes never leave yours as he plunges his finger into you, your warm, tight walls squeezing, making him insert another finger in response. you let out a moan, one that you attempt to keep hidden, but his hand slides from your face down to your neck and he wraps his hand around it — a warning, of sorts, for you to behave. you’re not sure if it’s the taboo of fucking in his office, or if it’s just him, but your hips buck against his hand wildly, the fleshy part of his palm bumping against your clit with each thrust of his fingers.

the walls in the office are thick but not soundproof, and you don’t think about any of that when you repeatedly call out his name, his fingers scissoring inside of your throbbing cunt, your arousal dripping down to his wrist. he can tell you hate how much you’re enjoying this right now, which only makes him squeeze your throat — firm enough to hold you still, but not tight enough to bring you any lasting pain. 

“law, w-wait, wait,” you gasp and moan louder, a familiar buildup pooling in your lower abdomen, making your breathing erratic and your mind fuzzy.

“hm, i think i know what the problem is,” he says lightly, curling his fingers, wrist angling so he can reach a spot you’ve never had the pleasure of reaching by yourself. your subsequent cries are music to his ears; he smiles down at you wickedly, a third finger finding its way inside of your pussy. “you’re sensitive.” very sensitive at that. you don’t know what he means, but you don’t question it — after all, his fingers are commanding your body with ease and skill, and where you normally don’t push yourself past this point, possibly in fear of enjoying it too much, he doesn’t let up. law is every bit as relentless as you knew he’d be, finger-fucking you until your words come out garbled, your chest heaving as an orgasm nearly splits you apart.

“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” you can’t believe it, you should be pissed off but you’re not; you’re relieved. he works you through the orgasm and plucks his fingers out when you settle down. releasing his hold around your neck, he takes his time to lick his fingers as shame courses through you. and just when you think he’s done, he pulls you closer and finally kisses you. his tongue thrusts into your mouth, every bit as deadly as his fingers were; you don’t expect tenderness, but you’re surprised by the ferocity behind his kiss. teeth nipping at your lips playfully, you press your chest against his, hands reaching between you so you can unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants.

he didn’t expect you to take initiative, but he’s glad you’re on the same wavelength as him now. pre-cum slithers out of his slit, the head of his cock a reddish-pink, his length heavy in your soft hands. you’re not in the business of dragging things out, so you mumble against his lips, begging him to fuck you — so you can maybe carry on with your day without issue. because he’s such a benevolent person, he acquiesces almost immediately, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance, hands grabbing onto your hips as he snaps his hips forward and buries his cock inside of you. 

stuck in a trance, you lift your hips to meet his, euphoria wrapping around you — an exhilarating rush, magical and overpowering — no matter how many times you imagined this exact scenario, it’s nothing like the real thing. a thundering sound echoes inside of you when he pushes you down onto the desk and drapes your shapely legs over his shoulders. it has you calling out his name so loud that you’re sure the occupants in the neighboring building can probably hear you.

he pulls back before slamming his cock into you again, strokes long and daunting as his thrusts grow frenzied with each passing minute. you can hardly breathe, and he trails kisses down the length of your throat, tongue sampling your skin, enjoying the way you can’t seem to stop clenching around him. he moans against your neck, voice vibrating through you, and you sift your fingers through his hair, yanking when his cock hits a certain spot. law fucks you like you’ve pissed him off somehow, which confuses and arouses you; isn’t this what he wanted? to have you at his mercy, begging him for more?

but, what you fail to understand is that he’s mostly pissed at himself — pissed for taking so long, pissed for not being more frank and straight-forward with his intentions, pissed that you pushed him away when you both could’ve had this. 

and the soft pants that leave your mouth only makes him yearn for you even more; it’s silly, slightly obsessive, but he can’t help it. you’ll be the death of him, surely, but for now, he’ll enjoy this slow descent into madness. “you’re taking me so well,” he says smoothly, his mouth grazing the shell of your ear, “fuck… i don’t think i can let you go after this.” what he means by that is beyond him; it sort of spills out, a small nugget of truth he can’t afford to part with. he powers into you, over and over, your pussy puffy from the ruthless way he fucks you, and when you cum again he follows shortly after, panting, a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead as his cum thickly pours into you. 

you inhale deeply, hands clinging onto him, almost as if you’re afraid to let go; similarly he feels every bit as light-headed and drunk off of you. an impressive feat, one he can admit to freely. you’re not sure if he won because he made you cum more than once, or if you did for making him cum hard enough to make him reconsider things. still, you know just as well as he does, that there’s no coming back from this; you can’t simply act as if everything is fine, not when you’ve seen just how much you affect him. you didn’t know — or, rather, you chose not to know — and now that you’re cognizant of it, you’re hooked on him. 

not that he minds, it only makes everything easier; he’s sure that your coworkers are probably collecting on their bets now, after all, the entire office knows just how much you both liked one another. you sealed your fate when you walked into his office, and now that he’s had you, he’s definitely going to keep you.

[kazemitsuyuri]

Warm on a cold night

summary: bakugou learning how to crochet and made gn!reader a cute sweater

genre: hcs, sfw, fluffy fluff

warnings: swearing (its bakugou duh✋)

a/n: first time writing something like this 🥺 hope you'll enjoy (i do take requests btw 🤩)

bakugou's domestic af, that we all are well aware of :)

but the moment you said you wanted a wool sweater for the cold seasons coming up after you watched a particular video on tiktok

our boy is so whipped for you that he starts googling how to crochet immediately

it would be a pretty good present for you, he thought, searching up "how to crochet a sweater"

of course, you had no idea

man is busy with work as a pro hero, saving lives and doing paperwork

but every break time after lunch, he would rush to make you that sweater in his office

the poor interns thought they were hallucinating when they saw their number two hero with his legs crossed on the table, leaning back on his chair, comfortably holding up pink and purple wool, crocheting squares while still talking on the phone

and he wanted it to be a surprise gift

so every time you step into the room while he was crocheting, he threw the stuff away so quick, you almost got suspicious

but you two trusted each other with everything you had, so you just guessed he was doing some secret confidential research about villains, and you never really asked him anything

the bakusquad took this as a perfect teasing opportunity

"old grandma bakugou," mina giggled alongside with kaminari before both got blasted with explosions

nevertheless, they knew he loved you so much and they were happy to see him caring for someone

you were his soft spot

he knew you got cold quite easily; as you always cling to him while sleeping, your icy cold hands slithering up his body seeking for warmth (which he always claims to hate yet he still let you do it every time)

you're just extremely important to him and he would do anything for you :)

even if that's crocheting on missons while on breaks

the chilly air of winter got your nose red and sneezing every now and then.

your quirk is sensitive to the cold and so you had to wear layers of clothing every time the temperature drops

plus, your husband was a very overprotective person who made sure you stay safe and healthy at all times, making sure the fireplace was hot enough and you wear warm clothes

it was a weekend that day and bakugou had a break day

which was rare due to "all the fucking crime and villains asking for attention from the number two hero", as he stated.

you sat comfortably in his arms in front of the tv and next to the fireplace, all cozy and warm, watching your favourite show

his body has always been your main source of warmth

his quirk allowed him to constantly stay warm and emitted a caramel-like fragrance

you loved everything about him

"who needs a teddy bear when i have you," you joked

you've been saying that ever since you went out with each other, but he's never gotten tired of it

even if he doesn't say it out loud, he loved hearing it

in the middle of your cuddling session, he took out the sweater he spent weeks crocheting and gave it to you

he didn't have to say anything cheesy, it's always been like that: him giving you a present while blushing and you start giggling like an idiot

this time it happened the exact same way

you immediately hugged it and stared at it

"it's so pretty! thank you, katsuki! where did you buy it? it looks so high-quality, was it expensive?"

every word coming from your mouth just fueled his ego and the pride he felt was about to make him explode

with his cunning smirk, he lifted your face to face him, "i was the one who made it."

your eyes widened, your mouth fell agape, "since when did you know how to knit?"

and his cocky ass kissed your forehead, "it's called crocheting, babe. and it was a piece of cake." which he was lying, he cursed so many times in the process of making it.

and you started piecing things together, "that's what you've been hiding!"

having a better look at the sweater, it was so well-done you honestly thought he had it custom made.

you immediately put it on and bakugou melted at the sight of you grinning with your nose hidden in the sweater

"i love it!" you exclaimed, hugging bakugou tightly, "i love you, katsuki!"

"love you too, babe."

[littlegiantposts]

Magic of Retail

pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: more nervous bakugo more nervous bakugo more nervous bakugo

warning: some swearing

a/n: indulgent as frick! i just wanted a place to post so dont expect much lol

Y/n didn’t really like opening shifts

They were too boring cuz no one goes to the mall at 10 in the morning

But let’s formerly meet her, yea?

Meet retail y/n

She works at a gift/retail store. The products r like pop culture stuff like favorite shows and movies

Y/n is a pretty damn good sales associate too, probably the best you can find

She knows how to talk to people and find them the perfect gift

She’s hardworking

Charismatic

And not to mention totally effortlessly gorgeous

She may be just folding some shirts but she looks damn good doing it

“Why did I have to come with you, shitty hair?”

U can already guess who entered the gift shop ಠ_ಠ

“You already know Mina’s birthday is coming up and we gotta get her the best gift, man” Kiri expressed with a sigh

Y/n perked up as she overheard a opportunity to get a sale, she makes her way over, all pretty and all

"Hey guys! Are we looking for any favorite shows or movies today?" Y/n said for the trillionth time that day

"Oh, yeah! Actually. We are looking for a gift and I know she likes this show," Kirishima offers his phone to show a poster/pic of said show, "If you guys have anything with the show?"

While Kirishima was talking, but Bakugo was too busy looking at how pretty you were

like you know in those movies when the opposing love interest walks in and it seems as if they are walking in slo mo? With the wind rushing through their hair and there is a spotlight on solely on them?

Yeah, Bakugo never believed in love at first sight

But with you, he might consider it

N E WAYS

back to looking for Mina's bday gift :D

Y/n leads them to the section in which had Mina's fav show at the moment

"Yeah, so we have some apparel items, but mostly merchandise items as of right now as it is a popular show" Y/n informs Kiri and love struck Bakugo

Bakugo got heart eyes dead ass

Mf looking like (｡♥‿♥｡)

but to you he sort of looks creepy with the dumbfound expression lol

"Wow! Thanks so much, this is great!"Kirishima

Yeah, got ya! My name’s y/n if you need anything

Some time passes and Kirishima has found the perfect gift

He asks for bakugo’s opinion and he says, “yeah, Pinky’s gonna love that” in a gruff voice

Acting as if he doesn’t want be there

But secretly he keeps making glances at you while you are refolding shirts

Y/n makes her rounds around the store and stood by the pair, “found a good gift, guys?”

“Yeah! Thanks for your help. I think we are ready to check out” Kiri adds

And bakugo realizes the window of seeing you is closing

However Kiri ends up going through the transaction and they end up leaving the store

Much to bakugo’s internal dismay

They go to a couple of different stores and it looks like their shopping spree is about to end

But

Bakugo takes his chances and mutters to Kiri, “I left something, I’ll meet you at the pretzel stand, then we’ll go”

Kiri is confused

Bakugo doesn’t really carry a lot of stuff with him

But he goes along and agrees

Bakugo runs

I mean sprints

Back to that same gift shop you’re working at

Hoping that you are still working you’re shift

He gets there, a bit panting

He walks around

Scouting the area

He doesn’t see you :(

He is frowning

Did he miss his chance

He looks down

“Finding everything okay? Oh, hi again! What’s up”

It was like music to his ears

He looks up and sees you in all your pretty glory

In reality, u just came back from ur 15 minute break

But to bakugo he felt it was destiny maybe

He just stared at you

He didn’t realize he didn’t respond

Did I say something wrong..??? Y/n thought

“Just looking at the key chains…I’m guessing haha” y/n tries to play off this conversation

“Y-yeah I was looking if you guys had a different size” bakugo just throws out there in desperation of saying anything

( •︠ˍ•︡ )

Bakugo forgot he was standing in front of the keychain stand.

There’s no sizes for the keychains

They r all one size

No varying size here

Bakugo felt his cheeks go warm in embarrassment

“I-I mean-”

He gets cut off by your laugh

Oh, what a beautiful sound it was

He could here it all day

Your laughter dies down a bit and you say, “unfortunately, all of our keychain sizes don’t vary so this is what we have” with wiping a stray tear from laughing

“Right, uh, I’m” bakugo looks at the keychain stand

He stares at it hard

None of the keychains look familiar to him

So he just picks one at random

“I’m gonna get this one and I’ll be ready to check out.” He manages

“Perfect! I’ll ring you up on the first register”

(Side note: y/n is actually not on register. She was a wing woman for the day, mainly just getting sales and talking to customers. But she found this blonde customer really cute and wanted to keep talking to him. So she hopped on register for this transaction)

(But don’t tell bakugo that shhh)

Bakugo swears his heart is gonna beat out of his chest at any moment

So you guys are going through the transaction like normal and u ask

“So what’s you’re fav character from (insert your fav show or movie)”

Bakugo freezes

Uhhhh

Should he know this??

“You’re keychain, it’s from (fav show or movie) ofc haha I really like it too”

Bakugo feels his head go a bit dizzy

Shit

MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY

Literal red sirens go off in his head

He doesn’t know anything about this show/movie

He looks down at the keychain for help

It doesn’t give any help tho ಥ_ಥ

Bakugo decides to come clean, “to be honest, I only got this so I can talk to you” he says all in one breathe

Now you are the one who doesn’t know what to say

He???did?this??to???talk?to?your??pretty??face????

How sweet awww

You turn into a tomato

You’re heart rate picks up

U start sweating a bit from the heat

“U-uh well” you look down awkwardly and immediately print the receipt, hastily pick up a coupon and scribble something, placing his item in a bag and handing it to him, “thank you! Have a great rest of your day!”

Bakugo stared at you

He definitely messed up

He wanted to kick himself

“I- oh, uh. Thank….you” he said quietly

He walks out of the store with his bag

Dazed from the encounter while he meets back with Kiri who is chowing down on a pretzel

“U want some bakugo?”

“No”

Bakugo’s too sad

He really ༼ಢ_ಢ༽

He should’ve said something more cool

Both are walking back, specifically to the bus stop

They get on the bus

Bakugo gets the window seat

He stares out the window with all the melancholy he can muster

He looks at the mall, thinking of you, and sighs

He looks down at his bag

He notices the coupon

There’s black marker on it

He scrunches his eyebrows

He reaches down into the bag, grabbing the coupon

It’s a 30% off coupon for his next purchase

Hm, not bad

He flips it over

And there it is

A phone number hastily written in black marker

Bakugo’s eyes go wide

A small smile makes its way onto his face

Kiri turns and notices said smile. He gets suspicious hmmm

Bakugo quickly shoves the coupon into the bag

“Happy with what you got?" Kiri asks quizzically at his friend

Why?

Oh, because bakugo is smiling down at this brown paper bag

Let me repeat that

SMILING

Kiri thinks this is like a milestone

“Yeah, I’m happy with what I got” he answers