#his hair used to be so easy to draw smh

[xxlady-lunaxx]

i havent drawn them in ages and i realized that whilst drawing bc obanais hair was such a pain for no reason

[love-toxin]

#the merchant not being IN the shooting range like he is in re4 gives me thots abt being bent over the counter too-//SHOT #luis promising u a prize if u beat his high score (its him he's the prize)

so u just gonna spoonfeed us some ideas then leave us hungry ⁉️⁉️⁉️ smh my head get to work /j

>:)

(cws: gn!reader, semi-public sex, jealousy, mutual pining, teasing)

You know Luis isn't gonna keep quiet while you're shooting away--honestly he has to stop himself from shifting around or adjusting himself because just the sight of you with a gun in your hands turns him on. He loves the way your shoulders tense when he gives you a compliment, how you glance over your shoulder and your grip goes slack when he flashes you a wink and a grin, because you just can't help being cute. You can act tough all you want, but you're adorable and he thinks you know that. If not, well, he's here to remind you.

"How about some pointers, mi vida?"

"I know how to shoot, Luis."

You huff and puff but you don't reject his approach, you don't shove him off when his chest meets your back and certainly not when his hands clasp gently over yours. You let him lead you, guide your hands up to aim the sights down at the target, and slowly squeeze the trigger-

"You're good at this, mi amor." His murmuring voice trickles into your ear, resonating louder in the aftermath of the enormous bang of the gun firing and the target blasting into pieces. His fingertips drawing down your arm leave shivers in their place, his warmth bleeding into every inch of skin....it's no wonder you lay the gun down and turn to face him, eyes gleaming with something akin to need that your hands convey so much clearer as they drift up his chest. Luis doesn't even have to speak, you can feel his intentions in the way he reaches around to grab for fistfuls of your cheeks, and lifts you up to sit you on the counter so you can look down on him.

"Oh, don't let me stop you. I'm just admiring the view." Such a tease. He's swift in feeling behind you for the gun and raising it up, his free hand coming round to shelter your head in the crook of his neck and cover your ears as he shoots off a few quick rounds. Looking back, you're met with a smoking gun and an empty chamber, plus six new holes in the last six targets you've spent twenty minutes trying not to miss. You roll your eyes and he tucks the gun away in your case lying just off to the side, but even though he's bracing the small of your back as he does so he never lets go of you completely.

"Alright, Sera. You win."

"I win, mmh? Win what?" He purrs into your skin, nosing your cheek just until you turn your head and find your lips barely a hair's breadth from one another. You really have no idea what your voice alone does to him--nor how lost he could get in your eyes and your warm breath on his skin.

"You win....twenty minutes. You can do whatever you want with me for twenty minutes." You whisper back, quiet and soft like you're afraid people will hear you. All your secrets are safe with him, though. They might be the only ones he can keep.

"Anything?"

"I'm all yours, Luis."

Those words could very well be a siren song to him, they're almost toxic in the way they singe their way through his veins and blur any sound thoughts from his conscience. But even poison would taste sweet if he drank it from you, and when he closes that distance to kiss you, that's all he tastes on your tongue. Sweetness.

"I could do damage in ten. You're generous, amor."

His heart soars as you lean in for him again, lips chasing his like that one kiss wasn't enough for you. Usually it's him that's doing the chasing, that's begging not to be let go, praying he's going to be held for longer than a second--you fill that need like it's as easy as breathing, so maybe you're not quite as poisonous as he might've thought. Loving anyone is dangerous for him...especially when he's so quick to realize it's really love, and not just lust.

Time stands still in those heated presses of mouth to mouth, breathing fresh life into his lungs, yet every other moment seems to blur together before he can try to hold it in place. Your clothing spills over your shoulders and down your thighs, bare skin meeting his palms as he vainly tries to consume as much of you as he can. How desperate he is to lower his head and fall to his knees before you, but you pull his face closer to share another kiss instead--and how could he deny you? This prize is meant to be his, but he gets so much more out of allowing you total control over his body.

Luis wouldn't have thought you could get cuter than that, but the desperate paw of your hands at his belt and the strain for more kisses blows that assumption right away. This clearly isn't a one-way street, you've been craving him just as much as he has you. Maybe this is what you were hoping for. Maybe this is what you've been building up to all this time, and why you've made him spend so much time here just to watch your hands fiddle with the trigger of your gun. He'd like to imagine you were envisioning it was him, and based on the confident way you grab hold of him under his jeans, he was right.

"We're short on time, Luis. Let's make this quick." Your lips against his ear as you stroke him feels like a rebirth, his knees buckling and his eyes halfway to rolling back in his head. How can you make him so weak? There's part of him that wishes it wasn't so, but another part shines through in his wobbly grin, one that whispers out 'I want more of you'.

The tips of his fingers part your kiss and dip into your mouth, your tongue like velvet as you suck down on each one. He just needs them wet but you go further; you lap up every ounce of him so all that remains is you. Your scent, your taste, your touch--much like what you do to him each time you brush by, your presence like golden light he can't help himself from basking in, and himself a heathen that craves your glow over salvation.

And as he pushes each one inside, your nails bite into his bare shoulders at the ache, the stretch ripping a gasp out of your lungs that soon dulls into the sweetest whines Luis has ever heard. You're so eager in your touch yet overwhelmed every time he indulges you, so he expects as much when his hand retracts and he replaces it by guiding the tip to your center. Were you really just pretending to be annoyed by him all this time?

Maybe some of it was real, surely, he knows himself well enough to anticipate it. But all of it is called into question when you grab his hips forward, forcing him to yield to your heat when he's entering you too slow for your taste. Now it's his turn to cry out, each breath stumbling on its way out while you pant and press your lips to his throat, his hips sunk all the way down to meet flush with yours. He must be so deep you can feel him in your stomach, and your crooning voice gasping about how big he is reassures him so. Moving feels almost impossible now, and yes, now that he's gotten this far he'd adore nothing more than to just stay in place and bask in your warmth forever. But you're so needy for him it seems, and the last thing he'll do is disappoint you--and that's what draws him back and pushes his hips forwards, your squeaky moans of ecstasy dragging out that animalistic pace he's been keeping locked up for ages.

"Imagine how much trouble we'd get in if Leon found out," He pants with a chuckle, hurrying his thrusts as the urgency of time finally settles on his shoulders.

"I really don't wanna think about Leon right now," You breathe right back, keening out a whine as your body adjusts to both the intrusion and the force of Luis slamming you back against the wood-grain countertop ad nauseum. As childish a thought as it is, he feels a smirk return as he thinks "good". As great as he is, there's a few things Luis would rather not share with that criminally handsome American if he can help it--and you're one of them.

"How's that feel, mi vida?" The sloppy, thumping rhythm of his belt buckle hitting the counter and your body clinging to every drag drowns out any half-whimper of an answer you give, your breathing peppered by echoes of his name and curses that would even make himself blush. Luis brushes a bit of your hair from your cheek and cups it with a ginger firmness, the gesture melting you in his palms as you meet his eyes and think of nothing else but him. Whatever the answer is, he can't imagine a string of flowery words as good as seeing you come undone in front of him. "Feels like a victory to me."

Your groan follows his smug comment either out of indignation or lust, if it even matters. But he's already getting close and he's praying you are too, if for no better reason than his own desire to feel you grip him so hard he bruises as you meet your end. That would be quite the way to show off. And when that blinding pleasure soon overcomes both of you and culminates in a kiss, one so much deeper that means more than either of you are willing to admit, that's when a fresh feeling of pride surges inside Luis as he hears the elevator doors swish open behind him--along with a low, soft inhale of breath being sucked through one's teeth in shock.

[buckysgrace]

Gator Tillman Headcanons

Just some random thoughts I had about baby boy tonight <3

I for sure think he was born premature? A teeny tiny little baby with big brown eyes lol.

Definitely got doted on because of his huge eyes and messy hair. Very hyper kid too, always needed to be doing something. Probably a biter tbh (spanked a lot sadly smh)

Threw an absolute fit when he was itty bitty and they were weening him off of the pacifier. That was his paci damn it!

Grew to love snakes because his mom hated them and he was quick to remove them from her garden. He thought it was funny to chase her while holding them

Roy use to make Linda keep it in a buzz cut because he hated how long it was on Gator. Thus, leaving Gator to find his own style when he was old enough.

He definitely showed cattle when he was younger. His favorite cow was named Rosie and he won several ribbons for how well kept she was <3

Knows how to ride a horse but doesn't have a desire to do so. Plus his lower back and hips are always so sore after

Prefers dogs over cats, but you best believe any time a cat is around him they're all up in his business

I also think he struggled with asthma when he was little too?? He hasn't had an attack in years but still carries an inhaler around

(don't bring up him vaping while having asthma, he gets very defensive and irritated lol)

Never been out of his hometown unless he needed to travel for competitions or for work. Probably never been on a real vacation before either.

I think he was always tall and lanky but stopped growing his sophomore year of high school?? He always wanted to be taller tho

Was in the FFA obviously.

Being an all-state quarter back I'm sure he had a ton of college offers? I imagine he was fairly average in school, probably enjoyed science more than anything else

Had a really hard time after his mom "left". I think he had a lot of anger issues at this time

His leg injury blew away any chances of him really believing that he could do better for himself, so he followed in Roys footsteps

He gets cold easy, so he always bundles up into layers and layers.

Sucks at cooking. Could not boil water to save his life. I think that he'd take cooking lessons later in life (or learn from someone hehe)

Has a surprisingly good green thumb if he'd keep up with it

Enjoys drawing in his free time and is actually really good at it.

Cannot survive anywhere where it gets too hot. He burns easily

He's in church every Sunday (sometimes Wednesday nights too, depending on his shifts) but it doesn't stop his potty mouth

Car lover of course. Likes to work on vehicles too. Occasionally welds I believe.

Loves going to car shows, or to tractor pulls lol

Most of his tattoos were random, little afterthoughts or done while he was drunk. I think he bought his own tattoo kit but opted out of it.

Flirts like a middle school boy. Will poke and prod at you, lots and lots of teasing. If you meet at a bar you best believe he's gonna be showing you all of his cool drinking tricks lol

A surprisingly good big brother, although Karen thinks he's a bad influence so he doesn't get to spend much time with them

Big fan of Game of Thrones but also loves Golden Girls lmao. And Westerns.

Does that thing where he acts like he's not interested in what's on TV but then he stands there with his hands on his hips watching the whole time lol

Do not ask him to pick you up something for the store, he will not find it

When he's high on weed he's very giggly; thinks everything is hilarious. Will absolutely lay underneath the stars and try to explain the way the universe works. Very snuggly and has the worst munchies (devours a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos in one sitting smh)

Will drink coffee (usually with a protein shake mixed in) but he 100% prefers energy drinks

Jack Daniels and PBR are obviously his drinks of choice hehe. Although he does love a good margarita occasionally

Absolutely devours some Taco Bell after he gets off the night shift. He always gets a box with a chalupa, beefy 5-layer burrito, and the fiesta potatoes but he's also getting a cheesy gordita crunch and the Cinnabon delights. And a Baja Blast. Mans has worked hard and he's hungry lmao

Hates ankle socks

For a late night snack he is breaking open something sweet. I imagine he prefers Heath bars and 100 Grand Bars.

He also loves carrot cake

[anonymouscheeses]

Big fckn redesigns here. Well mostly Charlie but Vaggie somewhat too 🥰🥰

Blue fits Charlie soooo much and I cease to see that many redesigns with this color. I still want red to be used in most of their designs because well. They are in hell, but not too present so to make way for other unique colors. Charlie has several physical traits from her parents but also she has some details in her clothes that match with them. When I uhh, introduce their designs you'll see lmao. I also tried to make her have a more roundish design, I jst LOVE those typ of designs omg. I just want the characters with not too many sharp corners pls Viv bro... 😔 oh yeah she's mixed cuz her mom's are darker in their redesigns. Alot of their genetics went down to Charlie so she doesn't look like an exact copy of Lucifer, I kind of hate that trend with hh and hb characters, like did the moxxies dad give birth to him bro 😭 also I kept her bow because it looks so cute and silly on her it just fits, I wish they made it bigger in her show design because it would fit her silliness so much. She has a cape with stars because morningSTAR smh why didnt they do something fun with that, missed potential but whatevs yknow I still love og designs no matter what anyone sayss. Did you know I love Charlie, I could ramble for days. I think I love Charlie guys. Maybe jst a hunch idk... also... s-snake fangs.. jeepers anddd..... snake tongue.... shiver me timberz

The wife ever. I had animation in mind more when I designed her, not like in a "How easy or hard would this be to animate" way. But I like to imagine when she's shocked her hair kind of fluffs out plus her actual fluff, when she's mad her bow turns into kind of horns and then her jacket expands like wings. Gave her a more hotel like outfit, she likes to work for fun (ew). Her socks are socks but she has some fluff under them she just tries to cover it up because she hates herself 🤪 (she doesn't hate her bigger body she actually feels much more comfortable chubby than when she was skinny with Adam. She was burdened with the weight of Adam's image of women... In this sorta rewrite she gained weight when she goes to the hotel because she's more happy. I'm dying I love chub Vaggie so much guys please) headcanon: she kind of likes fashion, it's like a fun hobby of hers to stitch together clothing and go out and buy clothes she'll never wear. She taught Charlie how to stitch and she SUCKS so you can jst see it on Charlie's pants.

Second outfits! Charlie's hotel uniform for. Well. Hotel stuff. She usually only wears it when new people come to the hotel, which.... isn't often, if at all. She still likes to keep it just in case. Also she goes really cartoonish when it happens, she does the looney tunes run and changes into her clothes in like 2 seconds. Can you see my vision? 😭😭

Vaggie's is in her armor. She has several pairs of armor lying around in the hotel in completely hidden spots. It's kind of surprising uhh. Yeah she wears it alot more than Charlie wears her alt uniform but still rare to find her in it. I don't get the whole thing with the exterminators and them not being able to fight according to Carmilla. Which is kinda stupid, I'm not gonna lie. So, instead of that, Vaggie has just let her guard down and has gotten much more comfortable in her surroundings so she feels like she doesn't need to fight anymore, she's just gotten rusty 's what I'm sayin. I have no idea how to draw armor. You can tell...

Extra below cut vvvv

BABY CHARLIE!!! With the heads of my redesigns for Luci, Eve, and Lillith. Haha you still cant see them. Uhh, ill definitely finish the thing one day. Its not even that big of a project thing, i think i jst keep going to other drawings so im like not focusing on one thing lmao. Lucifer has heterochromia because he was cursed to forever be reminded of his betrayal. I only explained that because Charlie has it too, it's kind of a curse on the entire blood line where at least one eye is red. This is like. Slightly older Charlie than the baby Charlie in show? I jst wanted to put her in overalls cuz omg that's jst so cute ughhh 😭😭

[kumodeathflower]

Currently playing Deltarune chapter 1 on my switch and man, the OST is such a banger.

- Honestly i love exploring the house, the overworld just has such a comforting vibe that i can't quite describe, also Toriel is so sweet as a mom

- Noelle being sweet to Kris and not minding that they join her as partners (i love her and am totally not biased as Noelle kinnie)

- LANCERRR I MISSED THE LITTLE MAN

- Hugging Ralsei at the training dummy, his reaction is so cute. I love the fact that you can even choose to do this

- I kept throwing away Ralsei's manual and his reactions are just so funny 😭

- I really love Susie, how she's so stubborn and sarcastic.

- Susie: "Hey uh, why did you draw something that makes it look like you guys kiss?"

Ralsei: (it's okay to express yourself Kris)

FUCKING HELPME?? 😭

- Susie speaking to Kris in the elevator, and their friendship developing /pos

- Susie: "GET BACK HERE AND LET ME FLIRT WITH YOU"

- I tried doing Jevil's fight but i cannot dodge for shit. I gave up

- Tbh fighting the king is easy

- I just realised that after the fight, Susie's sprite changes so you can actually see her eyes now, instead of them being covered by her hair. I LOVE THIS LITTLE DETAIL

- Returning back to the overworld and just.. i felt a heartwarming feeling. It's so sweet that Susie genuinely wants to hangout again with Kris and sees them as her true friend.

- I called Toriel and she just seemed happy that Kris has a friend now 😭

- I love how Birdly actually was concerned for us and cares for us, but quickly after sticks back to his 'rival' persona lol

- (She's reading a comic full of hot demon guys) Me too Temie, me too

- (There's a book here)

(You lick the page...)

(It's delicious!)

(This must be what they mean by flavor text)

KRIS?? HELLO??

- Sans!!!! The wink, as if he doesn't recognise us smh, i love the bone trousling reference to Papyrus <3

- Why.. does Alphys live in the alley?? I genuinely can't remember

- ASGORE HUGGING KRIS 😭

- THE PICTURE OF THEIR WEDDING DAY BEING ON HIS FRIDGE 😭

- Catti and Bratty.. does everyone have a crush on Azzy or sum-

- Interactions with Noelle!! Her asking what Susie likes is so cute, i love interacting with her sm

I love chapter 1, that's all 🫶

[mistydeyes]

Hallooo :DD I wonder if your pairings are still open so could I gracefully have a COD pairing? Ty<33

Pronouns: She / They

Appearance: Medium black hair with dark brown eyes(almost looks like black—) a thin like hourglass body shape. 5'5(HELP...) Mostly wearing turtlenecks, hoodies, n' oversized stuff.

Personality: I am an introvert and sometimes panics when ever I talk to someone I don't know. I keep myself reserved and dislike going out as much. When you get to know me better I lean onto the extroverted side and likes showing you stuff I made. A very moody person at times and my friends, based on what they say, I am a chaotic yet mother like friend. I am very easy to talk to and easygoing, I overthink a lot which usually leads to panic attacks. My friend say I laugh at the wrong time and I am not so proud of that—I am also easily distracted and place my focus on something I like rather than something I dislike. I could be manipulative at times as well as having trust issues because of past trauma :')). I sometimes have a flirting demeanor and tons of playful flirting to my best/friends and sometimes I come off as secretive based on my friends words. I prefer to care for my friends other than myself, once again trauma, and I seem to be a trustworthy friend. I have a goldfish memory which shocks me hoe much I know myself despite forgetting everything from the apat 3 hours. Also I'm very artistic! But I still suck at it smh 😔

Hobbies, Interests, work(?):

Drawing, Listening to music, Singing, and dancing! My interests are probably painting, collecting random stuff I found, playing the piano, and learning new languages! (I wanna be bilingual) I favor dogs a lot and probably adopt every dog i see which is a problem cause I can't handle so much 😭 I am currently studying in psych! Becoming an actual therapist because my friends need help, so do I.

John Price

How you met: Civilian You weren't sure what to tell people when they asked how you and John met. Technically, you didn't meet face to face until about three months after you stayed talking. You were connected through a friend of a friend due to your hobby of painting and him wanting to have a new landscape piece of artwork for his flat.

When you first heard of the request, you thought it would be simple commission. However when you talked to John and he revealed his laundry list of details, you knew this would not be something you could complete overnight. He wanted a specific landscape of a lake with trees and rolling mountains but also asked for details such as a man fishing in a boat and wildlife poking through the trees. If that wasn't bad enough, he also wanted it to be gigantic, a piece that he could display in the main foyer. If he wasn't so kind with your timeline and also the payment wasn't lucrative, you would have referred him to someone else. But unfortunately, you found yourself continuously buying paints and moving furniture around to fit the gigantic canvas in your flat. After exactly three months, you sent John a picture and agreed he would pick it up the following week. The day came and you heard your doorbell ring. You excitedly ran down the stairs to see your client in person. "John, so nice to finally meet you," you greeted as he shook your hand. "Can't thank you enough," he continued with a smile, "it was exactly how I remembered it." "Oh so this wasn't just something you found inspiration for online?" you questioned as you led him to the wrapped and packaged painting. "No, it was actually something I remembered when my Grandad used to take me fishing as a young lad," he said as you helped him to carry the large item to his car. "Well, I was happy to make that a reality for you," you replied and you both shared a tender moment. When you finally managed to get it secure on the bed of a truck, John asked if he could treat you to a meal. Maybe it was because you wanted to learn more about his past, but you readily agreed and the rest is history.

A peek into your relationship: "Y/N, we can't," John said as he tried to lead you away from the window. "But sweetheart, look at their eyes," you pleaded as you leaned down and held a hand to the window. The absolute sweetest English terrier was looking back at you and excitedly wagging his tail. John knew he was doomed as you looked at him and practically pleaded just to stop in the shop. "It's just to say hi," you promised as you entered but that was a complete lie as you fell in love with the excited puppy running around you and almost jumping into your arms. John tried to supply you all the reasons why you couldn't adopt a dog. "You don't time!" "Yes I do, I'm done with uni and plus I specialize in virtual therapy." "What if you forget to feed him?" "John, I have a goldfish memory but I would like to think I would remember to feed a pet that's right in front of me." "It doesn't make for a good guard dog" "Okay fair, but thats why I have you." No matter what he said, you always had an answer. Plus, your fiancé could deny that he loved the small pup as it pawed at his leg. With a sigh, he said you could adopt him and you peppered him with thousands of kisses. While John had to now buy all the amenities for a new pet, it was a noble sacrifice to see you so happy.

[simp999]

Bloopers/Notes from "A New Home!"

☆I don't have anything too silly until ch. 15 :(

Ch. 1, Where am I?:

☆I started this fic at like, 2 am, just on complete impulse. Everything here just summoned itself from my 2 am brainrot.

☆I didn't really chat this chapter out with any friends, so nothing too silly.

Ch. 2, Meeting New People?:

☆I was planning on making reader more of a Simp, but I talked to my friends and we decided against it, since it would be difficult for reader to get along with characters more genuinely.

☆At the end of the chapter, "If I go to sleep here, will I wake back up in the real world?...", I was thinking of just posting chapter 3 where it said: You wake up, story over. The end.

Ch. 3, We are the Army.:

☆Army was an octoling since the beginning! You can see that in the banner. The background is made up of octopi instead of squids, and you can see a bit of a tentacle.

Ch. 4, If memory serves wrong...:

☆Bro I suck at writing flirty stuff. End me now, Aloha's difficult for me to write

☆The "nothin' personal, kid", was a total reference, and I plan on adding many more. I'm going to try my best to add some iconic vines that still suit the scene.

Ch. 5, Descisions, decisions.:

☆On the other hand, I looove drawing aloha! He's so cute and silly! I like to draw his tentacles very round and bubbly and man, his eyes are so pretty!

☆This was the chapter that made me start thinking about giving reader teammates, mostly because they needed someone other than a bench to sleep.

Ch. 6, Hoooow Anoooying.:

☆mASK MY BELOVED

☆Can you tell he's my favorite?

☆I wanted to make him a little silly, giving him more of a personality. He can't be scary all the time, I really do think part of it is an act.

☆Another anime reference: the lens of his gasmask shining, just like in an anime.

Ch. 7, SUB WEAPON HELL!:

☆I was torn between what to do for the banner. I already used Mask with his mask on for chapter 6, and I planned on using his maskless version for what's now chapter 13. But then I remembered another one of my favorite boyos, Desi! I know he isn't featured too much in this chapter, and I'm sorry, but I needed something!

☆Anyways, I know this entire battle by heart. I know all of Mask's voice lines. Save me.

☆I try my best to not show bias in my fics, but I will relentlessly show it outside of em'.

☆Ugh, can't wait for team cyan moments fr

Ch. 8, Newfound Family.:

☆THE GUYS FR

☆I was stuck between just giving reader nameless teammates, incase ya'll already had your own ocs in mind of something, but I HATE nameless characters. And characters that don't have a personality. I figured that I'd already have to give them personalities, so why not go all in.

☆Soooo, I threw in my beloved OCs! I've had these guys around for YEARS, so I know them and their personalities like the back of my hand, which makes writing for them super easy and fun!

☆bro they look so cursed with splatoon 1 hairstyles to me. I didn't have the heart to snatch their iconic hair, so ignore that.

LOOK AT HIM!! ITS NOT EVEN MILO ANYMORE HE'S JUST MARCUS SMH.

Ch. 9, Shopping Spree!:

☆I actually wrote this and the last chapter at 1 am by accident. I was like oho let me write a few notes down for tomorrow so I don't forget. But here we are 2k words later.

☆After seeing that the next day, I realised that the squad tm would take up 2 chapters total. There's 3 of them. So then I had to figure out how to do the banners. I worked it out, though!

☆Tasha's hair's longer I swear, it just didn't fit on the banner smh

☆Damn she and skull look a lot alike, huh

☆L

Ch. 10, Skull's Territory.:

☆I knew I couldn't have reader simp, but that doesn't mean I can't have some simpery!! So I have Milo, Leo and Tasha to do it!! They get to express my true emotions <3

Ch. 11, A Misunderstanding?:

☆sTEAAAALTH!!! <3333

☆My sweet boy

☆So the poll for background characters was mostly for him ngl

☆THOSE DAMN GOGGLES WERE SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS TO SHADE WAAAAH

☆I also may have colored them green by accident the first time and had to start over.

☆I reaaaally hate making characters like Rider go OOC, but I need the story to continue! I'm sorryyyy

Ch. 12, Getting Too Comfortable.:

☆FINALLY WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE UGH

☆Also, blushy rider. ♡♡

☆He wants that battle, dude

Ch. 13, Player Two?:

☆aaaAAAA MAAASK

☆May have made a 9 hour mask playlist to write to.

☆Ahem.

☆I was planning on going in official meeting order for these uhh "getting closer with the S4", (Rider, army, aloha, mask, skull.) but my clear bias for Mask got me to write for him first.

☆I struggled to choose which song, but the idea came to me because I learned all the lyrics to Kick Back(chainsaw man), not too long ago. But I figured I'd just go with one of the most well known series/openings.

☆Didn't make the cut:

-Was gonna have reader and Mask walk in the rain together. That's why reader grabbed Milo's umbrella, cause it was the biggest one.

-c'mon, that would have been cute

Ch. 14, ...You Didn't See that.:

☆I was planning this since the start to be honest. Not exactly this scenario, but I knew I wanted to throw this headcannon in there.

☆After seeing how much love my fic was getting, I was almost going to abandon the idea, afraid that my readers wouldn't like it, and leave.

☆Jeebus those tentacles took me way too long to draw.

Figuring out what to do for Army's meetup+scrapped ideas:

Ch. 15, Sweetheart.:

☆I only made it to 1k words with Skull's part, he really doesn't talk a lot so it's hard to fill up space.

☆Soooooo

☆You guys asked for it: Avi time!

☆Now finally, here's some of the discord chats I had with my friends. Plans for story along with memes. Blanked out hints for the next chapter.:

Ch. 16, An Unexpected Meetup.:

☆I completely winged it. I knew I wanted like- a dummy kinda where we'd see all the S4 at once

☆Sorry for minimal aloha time, we got him earlier in the series though! (Bias game strong, he's not my favorite s4 member :( )

☆I'll try for more aloha time soon I'm sorry

☆The kind of rivalry/jeasoulsy between them wasn't planned and I kinda don't like it, but it is canon that they don't really like eachother so

☆Eh

Ch. 17: Not Much of a Choice, Huh?

☆Ughhh this feels like a dating sim now and I hate it

☆But characters catching feelings ♡♡♡

☆Not to figure out how they deal with them and how readers gonna figure that out

☆Wah

Ch. 18: Challengers Approach!

☆ oOoo they catchin' feelings!!!

Ch. 19: The Freshest Squid on the Block!

☆ YOOOOO LEO FANBOY!?!?!

☆ Hehe, we love making Leo happy

☆ Ugh, Emperor. I was not looking forward to writing him. I personally don't have him as a favorite, I was never able to like his kingly attitude. (I looove his design as somebody who draws nd does character design, though! Well made character.) Buuut...(see ch. 21)

Ch. 20: The Absolute King.

☆Yesss! Reader showing more emotion!!

☆Someone's gettin' angyyy

☆Ohoho does this count as angst? Berly, but I'm enjoying it

☆ Did you guys know that I half specialise in angst? Yeah enjoy that info

Ch. 21: A Crushing Defeat.

☆ Making you guys hate him off the bat is a lot dunner to write! He was shitty and mean in the first bit where he was shown anyways, so suffer! He'll have to go through some character development eventually, but until then, he's your most despised rival mwahaha

☆I hope the wat I write him makes you wanna deck him in the face :)

Ch. 22: It Only Gets Tougher, I Promise

☆ ... what no, what makes you think mask is my favorite. I show no bias ever. (How many times have I said that, now?)

[emperor-palpaminty]

Are you still taking requests?

What about a very jealous Crosshair or Echo pre-relationship and their brothers egging them on?

I haven't done echo in so long shdkdjsk!!! Baby BOOOOOY!!!!! Also he has actual prosthetic arms and legs because I am gonna pretend like he can change them out for formal events

warnings: major simping, pretty dresses, I cannot write anything else apparently, also mentions of wine (i don’t even like wine smh)

Echo wasn't a jealous man. Really, he wasn't.

At least, that was what he told himself when he watched her walk into the room, dripping in silk. The senator held her head up high, hair piled on her head, shoulders rolled back as she moved down the stairs, hand gently resting on the railing as she moved down. The train of her dress followed, pouring down the stairs.

He didn't bother hiding the way he sucked in his breath- she was glistening.

Crosshair laughed in the comm. "Someone's got it bad, huh?" Echo barely managed to get a hiss in towards the sniper.

"Boys," Hunter warned. "Keep your eyes out. We're here to make sure the senator stays alive." From a distance, Echo saw him perched at the roof, watching the exterior of the building. "Tech, anything?"

"Nothing yet." The clone muttered into the comm. "I'm watching all signals bouncing in the room."

“I’m keeping an eye out on visuals inside.” Echo skimmed the room, tearing his eyes away from the graceful senator. “No unusual activity.”

“I’ll bet you’re watching.” Crosshair’s snark was just as effective through the modulator of the comm. 

“Shut up.”

“No, you.”

Echo gnashed his teeth. “Di’kut.” 

“Hut’uun.”

“Boys!” Hunter hissed. “I will make you both hug and make up if you both don’t shut the kark up.”

“A fate worse than death.” Echo mumbled, drawing his eyes back to the senator, which wasn’t hard to do. She was currently talking very calmly to a man, smiling at him and his aid, bowing her head politely. Even so his heart throttled and twisted angrily, irritated at himself. 

Crosshair snickered, his visor illuminated in the distant moonlight as he shook his head. “You’d rather hug and make up with something else.”

“I’m going to-”

“I’m picking up on something.” Tech spoke up suddenly, exasperation seeping through the comm system. “High levels of sass.”

Wrecker broke out in fits of laughter over the commlinks, pealing through Echo’s helmet abrasively. “Ha, ha! That’s what I like about ya, Echo.”

Echo scowled but fought off the urge to say anything. It felt like he had just assimilated into the small group of clones, and he didn’t want to cause any rifts. He bit his tongue, turning his eyes back to the gala below. “Look at all of these people. You think they know anything about the actual war?”

“Who knows?” Tech mumbled softly. It was a hum over the comm, but somehow every brother picked it up.

There was a moment of weight. The comms were silent for a moment with heaviness, a bated breath, and none of them dared to say anything about the weight of the galaxy that rested on the shoulders of a few men.

Crosshair’s voice slithered between the cracks of the fragile quietness. “Let’s go back to teasing each other.” 

Echo wanted to agree, and he mumbled a half-hearted “Mm.” She looked up at him, peering down from the second-floor railing. She offered him a small smile, gentle, and it radiated, brighter than the lights and sweeter than any wine they were serving below. “You know,” He said, softly. “At least there is one senator out there who gets us.”

The others gave affirmations, Wrecker’s “Yeah, she does!” being the loudest out of them all. Echo grinned under his helmet as Hunter chuckled. 

“Guys, go easy on him.”

“Why?” Crosshair giggled in the system. “It’s so sweet, watching him make googly-eyes at her.”

“I don’t make googly-eyes.” Echo muttered, stepping away from the bannister after scanning the room. “I make... regular eyes.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” The largest clone rumbled, still breaking with laughter. Echo winced at the booming of his voice. “You keep staring at her from your watch point.”

“To make sure she stays alive.” 

At least... that was what he told himself. Just business, strictly business. Even so, his mind wandered to her, waning in its strict upholdings and tugging at the net he tried to use to constrain his thoughts of her- her airy movements, how she practically floated across the floor, her sleepy voice after being awoken abruptly by the Batch knocking on her door, or her ringing laughter that was fully free to run over him like waves. The net was broken and his soul was snatched away by her unwitting hands.

“Hunter to Echo,” The sargent’s voice sliced through his thoughts. “You see anything yet?”

Echo leaned back over the bannister, breath drawing in as he spotted a man coming in from the side door. “Yeah, I think so.” He hurried around, closer to the side door. “Someone came in from the side.”

Tech hummed in thought from the comm. “That’s odd. The representatives should be coming in from the main entrance.”

“On it,” Echo jumped up onto the edge of the bannister, balancing, watching and waiting as he perched. His heart thrummed as the senator turned, eyes sharp, landing on the man. She froze.

An obsidian barrel pointed out at her, and her eyes flickered up at him. Echo.

Echo’s chest flared with anger, heat, and he pounced. He landed hard on the perpatrator, metal legs digging into his back as they landed hard. Party goers gasped, turning and staring at the clone, shocked, eyes darting between Echo and the unconcious man lying on the floor, blaster knocked a good amount away by the impact.

Except her- her eyes only stayed on him. Echo hurried towards her and took her hand, pulling her away from everyone. “Let’s get you to cover.”

She nodded, following him, stopping to kick off those heels of hers and following him with bare feet. She raised a hand to her ear and said, softly, “Hunter, I’m alright. Echo’s got me.”

Echo almost stopped moving, and his blood ran cold. “You’re connected to our comms?”

“Of course.” A smile tugged at her voice, and Echo groaned internally. “I can hear you.”

“The whole time?” Echo grimaced as Crosshair cackled in the headset. Echo reached up to his helmet and quickly shut the system off, ducking into the designated safe room on the side.

She chuckled, pulling in the trail of silk behind her as he shut the door. “All of it. Do you really make googly-eyes at me?”

Echo mumbled under his breath, feeling a sudden gently thud on the sides of his helmet. She stood in front of him, hands resting gently on the cheeks of his helmet and lifting it up. “I don’t mind your googly eyes, Echo.” She spoke softly, gently, resting his helmet in her hands. “I quite like them, actually.”

She was close- the only thing between them was his helmet resting in her hands. Quietly, Echo moved his hands to cover hers, and his words propelled from his mouth, shattering in his throat. “I... I’m sorry. I wish I could see you some other way, but-”

Her fingers pressed gently to his lips, moving his helmet under her arm. The silk was cool under his gloved hands as he pressed his fingers to her dress. “I can’t look at you any other way, either, Echo.” He smiled, quietly, feeling her lips brush his chin. “I don’t want to look at you any other way.”

He felt nothing, just the silk of her gown and the magnetic pull of her warm lips to his in the small, dark safe room, and a chapped mix of a moan and sigh escaped his throat as he wrapped his arms around her. She smelled floral, like open spaces and free planets, somewhere far from here. She broke away, the absolutely spine-chilling hum a musical sound to his ears. 

“How is he?” Echo heard the tinkering of Crosshair’s laugh in the senator’s earpiece. 

Echo reached out, taking the comm. “Shut up, Cross,” He hissed, turning off the comm and wrapping his arms around the senator. She laughed lightly, lips meshing and dancing with Echo’s.

[jjungkooksthighs]

Claws of Carnality | jjk (8)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au 

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 7.8k  we really can’t ever have a short chapter around here smh

Summary: Alacrity augments you in the aftermath of your alpha’s perfervid performance and in his subsequent summoning of you, neither of you can stave off sin from overwhelming you in the desire for each other that consumingly captures the wolf and his mate. 

Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of blood, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scenting, dirty talk (lbr I love that shit), praising, fingering (just a smidge), grinding, fellatio (cock sucking), cock worship (just a bit), breast/nipple play, nipping, sucking, begging, muscle kink, scratching, cum eating, manhandling, cursing, wet and messy sex (kind of), size kink, hair pulling, impreg kink, dual orgasms 

A/N: So, this chapter took a bit longer to get out due to graduate applications, schoolwork and inclement weather that took out my Wi-Fi, lol. It also went through a series of deletions because I felt self-conscious after the original posting of chapter seven, but eventually, it came along to what I had pictured in my mind despite the rework to the style of this chapter that I hoped to make easier for you guys to read with lessened uses of terminology/vocabulary. Also, I’m not the best at writing this type of smut, so please go easy on me! 

Oh, and the gif that you guys see at the top? That’s Jungkook’s outfit inspiration for what he wears at the end of the chapter. :)

As always, please share with me your thoughts about my work! There is no greater reward to writing than seeing what your readers think of what you spent so much time to create. I am eager to know what you guys make of my story, so please don’t hesitate to let me know what your thoughts are because I love to hear it!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 9

Meekness muddies you in the solid substratum of it that settles over your throat as you try to keep from liquifying under your alpha’s scorching gaze that leaves no part of you unscoured by its high heat.

 It muffles you to a mutter as you struggle to swallow what little spittle has not dried up in your mouth at the parching sight of him as you manage, “Alpha….what are you doing?”

 There had been something else you’d wanted to ask him, but in the roots that tangle thoughts around him, your perception is twisted by your peripheral field that extends only for the half nude man that looks fixedly at you.

 Jungkook smirks before cocking his head to the side in quick movement in a display of avid amusement before he utters, “Is it not obvious to you, pretty? I’m stripping and shedding myself of the clothing I wore to entice you. It has served its purpose,” He turns to pierce you with a dark glare as he leans back on the wooden table behind him, the burled brawn of his arms bearing his weight as he leans back on them while his supple skin shines with the sweat that sluices it as he taunts, “I no longer require them here. Others may look at me, but no one but you, my mate, shall ever be able to touch me.”

 You whine a that, your silver irises interspersed with golden streaks shimmering over him as they sliver down from perfectly plump lips that have spoken such sweet nothings to you and bedecked you in his brand as your hand absentmindedly rises to lay over the purpled petal he’d made ascend amidst the garden of you in his efforts to tend to his terrace.

 You trail your visage over to the Adam’s apple that juts proudly out from the column of his neck, an irrational urge sprouting to life within you in the need to nip it for daring to sweetly stick out like the ripest berry from the sturdiest stem you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.  

 You lick at your dried lips that are not slicked against the tongue that tries to wet them from the arid desert of your mouth that your alpha radiates away from you as your sight slides lower until it settles over the bodacious bough of his chest that branches brashly with muscles along every inch of him, your fingers twitching in remembrance of how strong and sinewy he’d been under your digits as you’d brushed them against him.

 When your sight drops along the thatched thighs that the fabric strains stiffly against in its stretch over them, a picturesque memory of what you’d done atop of one of them paints colorfully itself in your mind.

 Its vibrant vividity has you biting your tongue to keep from releasing another sound as your cheeks turn themselves red like the rose you are to him while your alpha grins at the vivacious view of you, wholly intrigued by the spectacle that is you as you struggle against the slump that soon has you falling back against the door as you whimper in the damning distance between you and your alpha that takes him away from you far too much.

 “Jungkook,” you imploringly plead.

 Your alpha chuckles at that to push off the vanity behind him with no effort at all before he strides over to the chaise lounge made from the leather of aged cattle against the timbered wall. He is slow in the languid lowering of himself over it, his back resting against the arm of the piece of furniture as he husks, “Bring yourself over to me, pretty,” his voice deepens before one hand rises, his fingers curling inward in a come-hither motion that has your heart stuttering in the excitement electrifying it as he orders, “Come and sit on your alpha’s lap, my omega, and tell to me all that you thought of my performance that was devoted solely to you.”

 In the scarlet moonlight crimson as blood that drips like wax from a never burning candle’s wick from the glass window behind him, the color sinfully stains him in a dangerous sheen of a garnet glow that emanates effervescently off him in everything that promises impurity as his eyes glint goadingly at you from around the blackened wisps of his locks that have fallen around them.

 As a creature that has only known chastity’s constraining shackles your whole life in your wait for your mate, you very much want them to be crushed under your alpha’s heel, for he has already caused them to crack amidst the sweet pleasure he’s delivered to you in the forest and in the sanctity of your own chambers.

 As if caught in his unyielding undercurrent, your body moves under his watery sway that sweeps you forth. Perhaps it is the omega in you that is utterly unable to resist temptation taking its form in Jungkook. Maybe it is the inescapably inexorable draw to him that paws at you to be near to him lest you incur its fangs if he is absent and away from you. 

Conceivably, it could be both that have you pad forward without pause as he watches you with interest while you move, his golden irises never drifting from your own as a wave of heat falls over them and, in your undertow he’s surrounded you in, it washes over you, too.

 Once you stand before him, he makes a sound of appreciation as he appraises you attentively.

 One hand sinks under the furs that hide you from him, each finger suggestively sidling up along your waist while the other palm joins it on the other side as you close your eyes while your arms wrap around his muscled shoulders, his calloused and strong digits dipping deliciously over your soft skin as he hums, “Mmm, that’s a good girl. I like it when you’re obedient like this. You’re so receptive to me already, pretty,” His hands sensuously slide downward, his fingers streaming outward like a consumingly surrounding sea that washes you over in his thrilling touch while he splays his legs out before, all in one fluid motion, he pulls you forward until you fall like the tide over his hips as each of your legs pools on either side of him only for him to smirk as he amusedly muses, “So responsive to me, too, my mate. You do not resist me at all. You’re so willing to submit, aren’t you, sweetling?”

 Not prepared for the sudden shift in position, you gasp in surprise, your eyes shooting open to be submerged by his golden irises beginning to seep with the licentious lust that dooms you in their dusky dimness. They beckon you to lose yourself in his deep depths, one hand diving under the thin terrain of your gown only for him to trickle the phalanges of his fingers along the soft skin of your leg. He’s unrushed and unhurried as his digits drip their warmth over you to flow over your ankle through his ascent upward, his digits oozing along aqueously while his fingers spread outward like a tributary that must get its fill as he drags them ceaselessly along.

 Your breath wells up in your lungs in the anticipation that swims there and when his hand torturously trails over your thigh only to brutishly, brutally halt his ministrations, that’s when you whine, your arms tightening around him as you lean forward to lay your forehead against his own as you whisper, “Please, alpha.”

 Your alpha croons, his index finger running in circles along the innermost part of your leg that borders along the sex that has not stopped crying for him since his performance as he says, “I know what you want, pretty. Do you want your alpha to take care of you again like I did in the forest? It would be so easy. I could make you fall apart so quickly with how readily you receive me, my mate,” His digit dribbles impossibly closer to where you want him most, a shaky breath falling from your lips as one of your own hands veers down over his chiseled chest, catching on all the defined muscles that ripple in its wake before it settles over his heart that beats briskly in the same time as your own that instantly stammers when his finger stops once more as you whimper out while your alpha’s eyes narrow, “Much as I wish to give to you what I know you desire, you’re going to answer to me before I do anything else, pretty. You have such a pretty voice. Use it for me, my mate.”

 Your irises slip below to his lips that move so very precariously with how close you are to them and an urge soaks you to feel them, your other hand dowsing him in your touch as you draggle it along the back of his nape and up along his neck until your fingers tentatively trace the outline of them. You etch his rounder and fuller lower lip into your memory as you draw your digit around the upper one, entirely entranced by the cupid’s bow that crowns the middle of his top lip and the way that a long, pink tongue is swift to poke out of the mouth he parts for you in your exploration of him.

 He laves it first along the bottom one to carefully coat it in saliva that gleams against the soft firelight that licks at your alpha from the corner of the chamber and when he dares to lap the muscle along the underside of your finger at the same time the palm on your thigh trails forbiddingly forth to cup your womanhood, you mewl.

 The lewd sight stirs within you a hunger for that which only your alpha can sate.

 It is as if his tongue are hands are the keys that unlocks the cage of words in your mind that he’d been the one to padlock there as you breathe, “I would very much like that, but you’ve been so good to me. You made me feel so wonderful in the forest and even dedicated that stunning performance to me that made me fall impossibly harder for you, my alpha,” you breathily profess while you pigment the column of his neck with the stain of your lips as you lightly graze your teeth along the notch you’d been staring at before to whisper, “You were so mesmerizing up on that stage while you danced for me. I’ve never seen a creature as enchanting as you were,” the hand that you’d left over his heart begins its journey anew as you veer toward the bulge in his pants that he unabashedly displays to you while you offer, “You’ve done so many other things that have exhibited your sentiments for me and I want to give you something in return. Please, let me show to you how special you make me feel, Jungkook.”

 Your hand has barely even lain itself over his member that hardens at your very words before there’s a growl, your alpha’s hand extricating itself from between your legs to encircle around your dainty wrist as he roughly pulls it up and between the two of you before he warns, “Do not toy with me, my omega. Once you start, you’re going to finish, yeah? I can only control myself so much with you looking so goddamn beautiful for me while you’re on my lap like this.”

 You lick your lips to whisper, “I have no intentions of playing with you, Jungkook. I only wish to please my alpha if he will allow me to indulge in him like I’ve wanted to for so very long,”  you fully seat yourself on him, your clothed sex rubbing against him as you grind atop him while the hand on your waist bunches the fabric around it to draw it up and away from you to ease your access as your head dips down so that you can imbibe yourself of his taste after being denied it in the woodland, “I’m so parched, alpha…please, help me. You’re the only one that can.”

 The moment your mouth ghosts over the sternocleidomastoid muscle along his neck and your breath warmly whisks itself over him, he releases you only for his hand to tangle in your hair as he rasps, “That’s right, my mate. No one but me can quench you like I can. You want to satisfy me, pretty?” His hips impetuously impulse upward against your own as he hisses, “Do it, then. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

 Needing no further coaxing, you press your lips against him in a chaste, short osculation that earns a rumble from his throat in a sound that has you smiling against him as you string a line of wet kisses over him, your hips rolling atop the tented bulge that hardens inconceivably more under you as you moan at the delicious friction that cascades through you with every eddy of your hips along his member that is all too fast to try to escape his trousers.

 Raptness for you floods his irises and it swells around you until you take one of his hands to delve under the furs that conceal you from him, his head falling back when you swirl your sex over him while you slide his fingers over the exposed sliver of skin between your breasts, his digits diving under the thin material of your bodice to palm at your tit as you sigh in satisfaction at the way his long, slender fingers sinfully swathe you in their hold.

 Your alpha husks, “Gods, these tits were fucking made for this. They were made for me.”

 “Yes, alpha…all for you,” you breathe as he kneads at your tit while you continue your expedition along the mountainous terrain of his chest and when he brings his lip between his teeth at the sight of your hooded gaze as you stare hungrily back at him, he watches the way that your irises flick toward the peaked summit of the same nipple that had taunted you from under the enclosure of the sheer shirt he’d worn to agonizingly afflict you earlier.

 When you glance back at his eyes for permission, they flash dangerously at you and with a swivel of your hips that has him momentarily shutting his eyes, you seize your opportunity and enclose your mouth around the dark nipple to suckle at him only to earn a guttural groan from him as his back bows inward while his fingers dig into your hip at the same time that the digits in your hair curl inward to pull tightly as he utters, “Fuck, pretty. That feels amazing. Keep going, my omega. You’re making your alpha feel so good.”

 Your wolf preens at the praise, your tongue daubing his tender areola in kittenish licks as you suction the sensitive skin between your lips, your other hand pawing at his pectoral while his thumb flitters over your own nipple only to have you quicken your pace as he strums you like an instrument atop of him.

 You soon shift your attention to the other neglected bud, your lips enveloping him as he grunts with the way that you scuff your nails down his swollen peak while you twirl your tongue along the abandoned areola.

 Distracted by your ministrations to his chest, your alpha does notice the way your hand seeps down his chest until it bears down over the fully hardened member to have him buck from underneath you. The movement jostles you atop him and, accidently, you nip at him only for him to pinch your own nipple between his fingers in punishment as you whimper.

 Through it all, your hips do not cease their undulations over him as they continue to rotate rapturously around him, the pleasure too sweetly succulent as it glazes over you the longer that you lather yourself on him.

 You are steadfast in your venturous voyage to discover more of your alpha as you frisk your tongue along the underside of his pec before continuing your descent toward the steep sierra that rises tall between his legs.

 You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at his now engorged, edematous buds, but the fingers in your hair constrict around you to condense your vision only to golden irises that flare fiercely at you when he rumbles out, “Up here, pretty. I want to see your eyes while you use your mouth on me.”  

 “Yes, alpha,” you obediently reply as you press a hot, open-mouthed kiss over each of the eight abdominal muscles that comprise an impressive slew of sinew over the skin of his belly.

 With the choker clasped around your neck, you can only go so far before it unforgivingly cuts into you and with one last sweep of your tongue along the ridges between his abs, you rise to plant your hands on his chest as he rolls your nipple expertly between two fingers, a moan tumbling from your lips as you grind with fervor over him.

 Wanting him to feel just as pleasured as you are, you lay your palm flat over him, your fingers furling around him to give him a small squeeze that earns a groan him that is drawn out when you lean forward to drag your lips along the underside of his jaw that he presents to you under the light, soft brush of your mouth over him.

 One of his hands finds itself under your chin, two fingers grasping your jaw as he pulls your chin up while he husks, “You really do want to please me, don’t you, pretty? If you want me that bad,” he sits up with you still sat on his lap, his eyes scintillating lethally as the pad of his thumb slides up to nudge along your lip, your saliva dripping and coating the digit that he uses to penetrate the warmth of your mouth that you close around him as he growls, “Get on your knees and take this cock into your mouth. Drink from me until you’re so full of me that you won’t wish for anything else to feed that thirsting desire within you.”

 Under his command that sidles swelteringly through golden irises from under his locks, you shakily exhale when he extracts his finger from your mouth, each of you watching the way your spittle clasps itself to him before breaking off and falling between you.

 You whine at the loss of him, but you know that you won’t leave you empty for long and the thought energetically bounds through you like a sylph springing through the air.

 He easily lifts you from his lap and sets you on the carpeted floor, your limbs far too weak to support your weight without him as he helps you to fold your legs under you so that you sit on your heels like he’d ordered you to do.

 A lagoon of fabric from your skirts profoundly puddles and spills outward around you as you stare at the bloated bulge in his trousers, your salivary glands secreting spit as your mouth waters at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

 Your fingers fiddle with the linen lining the end of your alpha’s trousers, however, as diffidence coils around your ribs.

 You have never pleasured a man with your mouth before, for it is a rule that such intimate practices are not to be engaged in unless a wolf has presented as either an alpha, omega or beta.

 At your hesitance that is made palpable in the way that you chew at your lip, your alpha softens if only for a moment as he hunches over you, both hands laying along the sides of your jaw as his tone lightens when he asks, “What is it, pretty? Are you having second thoughts? It’s alright if you are. I would never have you do anything you didn’t want to do.”

 His support only makes you want him more, for there is care that he’s imbued innately in each word that flowers within you under his reaching radiance.

 His irises search your own beseechingly and you place your own palm atop of his as your cheeks redden with embarrassment that shyly quiets you to a whisper as you tentatively confess, “It’s just…it’s just that I’ve, well…I’ve never done this before. I want to satisfy you, alpha, but I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it or if I’ll even make you feel half as fulfilled as you did for me in the forest.”

 Your alpha only smirks at that, his expression darkening damningly as understanding shadows him while he utters, “All the better for me, my omega,” He turns his hand to capture your fingers between his own as your digits intertwine with his own as he drifts your joined hands toward his weeping member, “The only cock you will learn to fuck with that little mouth of yours will be mine. You shall only know my knot on your tongue. I alone will gladly teach and instruct you on how to pleasure your mate, pretty.”

 Familiar fire ignites in you as his promises plunder your being with anticipation. He strews your hand just above where his tip leaks through the linen before, with a scalding glance, one of his palms is crossed over the other and without pause, he trails them seductively slow up his thigh in a path that will drive him right where he needs it.

 You watch, entirely engrossed, as fingers are rubbed against his member, a heaved breath forcing itself through ajar lips that follow with a clenched jaw as he rasps, “The first thing you would want to do is get me hard like this, pretty. I don’t have to be for you to take me in your mouth, but it’s better if you, ah-“ you spare no time in replacing his hands with one of your own, your fingers stroking him through the fabric as he groans, “-Yes, pretty, just like that. Shit. Take my cock out now. The pleasure is increased tenfold when there are no barriers that bar you from me.”

 You obey, your breath hitching at his considerably large size once again as your alpha makes quick work of his soiled trousers.

 Your ardent awaitment of him is not long when he sheds the last piece of clothing he’d had only for your eyes to widen as large as stars at the sight that greets you.

Your eyes widen in wonderment as you quietly gasp, “Alpha, it’s… it’s enormous. You’re magnificent, but,” you gulp as you stare, “do you think that will fit?”

Your alpha caresses your jaw as he coos, “It will fit if I wish it to. You were designed and created for me by the moon above,  pretty. I know you can take me.” 

 Nestled between thick thighs, his sizeable shaft arcs upward like a crescent moon with constellated veins spanning through the sky of his skin, the bulbous head framing it all where it hovers over his abdominals like a planet that you’d very much like to explore yet have never seen before.

 “Still, how are you even larger than before, Jungkook?” You blurt, your fingers dipping down to gingerly pad over him in your fascination of his behemoth dimensions as he bites down on his tongue to keep from bucking underneath you, for he does not want to startle you.

 Between his legs, you stare at him with the eyes of a doe rather than a wolf from your inexperience that tucks your tail between your legs and he is intent on ensuring that nothing will deter you from venturing out into the field where he waits anxiously for you.

 “This is what you do to me, pretty. You make me like this, for it is my need for you that makes me so much bigger to you than before. I have been denied of you for far too long, my omega,” his fingers enclose around your wrist as fervid fervor fills his irises before he orders, “Put your little hands around me, pretty. You can be as gentle, or as rough, as you wish.”

 You do as he says, instantly wrapping your hands around him and then blinking innocently at him as you tilt your head to the side in question.

 The moment your touch titillates him, his brows pull together in concentration, for your fingers are far smaller and more delicate than his own in their timidity that holds them back.

 Despite it all, you are a sight that is far too beautiful to behold as he encourages, “That’s it, my omega. Now, open wide and take me.”

 Tentatively, you part your lips as each of your hands bring his member down to your gaping maw. The closer it gets to your mouth, the more colossal it towers over you. All it takes for you to gulp and push down the lump of apprehension in your throat is one glance up at your alpha, whose irises simmer over your own with the heat of the sun as he draws his lip between his teeth while he devours the vivid visage of you between his legs.

 There’s so much you want to say to him, but right now, there’s only one thing that can possibly show to him what you feel for him.

 When he finally breaches you and his heavy girth falls over your tongue, it is warm like the rest of him and engorged with the blood that rushes to it as you try to nestle him between your lips the best that you can.

 He tastes of a musky tanginess that is mixed with a salty, briny tint. You find that it is not an unpleasant flavor.

 Your walls contract around nothing when you watch his face contort to one born of pleasure in an accidental brush of your tongue along the underside of his shaft in your attempts to gorge yourself of more of him. Like this, his base is still grasped by each hand as he sinks his fingers into your tresses to urge you forward impossibly more.

 Like this, he’s resplendently ravishing as he succumbs to the damned delirium that you are solely and wholly the bringer of.

 You’re not sure if the human body was created for this purpose, but you do know that your alpha’s pleasure is the only thing that matters to you now. There’s a feral rawness in him that has slept in him and you want to be the one to awaken it. You’ve always been a stubborn creature and you aren’t about to let unseeded unsurety stop you now when you can see the glimpses of the satisfaction you could grant him like he has for you.

 There’s something so gratifying in knowing that you could be the source of his pleasure and so, you experimentally swirl your tongue around his tip that sobs with precum as you allow him to plunge himself even deeper inside your mouth.

 Your alpha’s head is thrown back at that as he groans, “Yeah, fuck, pretty. Gods, I knew you could do this. So fucking perfect me, my omega… my mate.”

 Inch by impossible inch, your alpha penetrates you inconceivably as you lick at him like a cat starved of its water for days. The hand in your hair starts to push and pull you to and fro and you watch, captured by captivation, as your alpha’s breaths begin to become uneven and heave into pants as he stares heatedly at you.

 “Use your hands, pretty. Touch me.” Your alpha husks and you obey, each of your hands constringing around what you can’t fit inside your mouth as you stroke him up and down, your fingers catching along the veins that you take care to caress as you squeeze in a vice-like grip his member that throbs under you.

 Your alpha gives a grunt of approval, his back arching as his eyes screw shut under your ministrations as his lips part in pleasure.

 Your confidence grows the longer that you lave at him, unsure of what you are doing but nonetheless spurred into action as your alpha clutches your hair between his fingers to secure you to him as you fleetingly flick your wet muscle against his sensitive glans while your alpha laments.

 As you stare up at him, he is carnality’s manifestation in the way that the scarlet light erotically colors him in passion’s dangerous hue, his sculpted brows scrunched together under wild curls that curve voluptuously along his angular face.

 Lost in him, you make the mistake of scraping your teeth against him only to earn a sharp hiss from him as his fingers tighten in your locks.

 Breathless, your alpha’s eyes open while he grimaces, “Loosen your jaw, pretty girl. That hurts, yeah? Try not to graze me with those teeth of yours. I know you can do that, can’t you, sweetling?”

 You pull off him with an apology already on your lips, “I’m sorry, alpha. I didn’t mean to harm you. I’ll be better for you, I promise.”

 Your alpha coos, “You already are the best for me, pretty,” he brushes his knuckles under your mandible, “There is no one I would do this with beyond you. You’re mine and you will learn, my mate. I do not expect you to be perfect when this is your first time. You’ve been doing so well already, my omega. All you need to do is relax for me.”

 Your wolf bays at his praise, affection for him blooming inside you as his words water you.

 You heed your alpha’s command, your maw slackening as you guide him back between your lips. This time, you swallow him as far back as you can possibly guzzle him, your mouth flooded of all that is him as you whirl your tongue lasciviously around him.

 Your fingers compress around his base while one hand, with renewed spirit, seeps over his balls as you fondle them, your alpha’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as you claw away at the last of his control to cause him to buck into your mouth, his cock driving itself even deeper down your throat until it buries itself so far back that it blocks your airway, hot tears quick to burn at the edges of your eyes as he hits your pharynx and blocks your airway.

 “Fuck, don’t stop. Suck me, my mate.” Your alpha drawls out, the efforts of speaking laboriously difficult in the breaths that strain to dislodge themselves and leave him.

 It is a sensation you have never felt before to have your mouth so thoroughly filled and though it is not the most comfortable, the pleasure lies not in you, but rather within your mate and in what you are swiftly reducing him to. You would do this a thousand times if it meant wracking your alpha to this.

 Ever the dutiful omega, you follow his decree. You hollow your cheeks as you bob your head along his length while you suckle him enthusiastically, inhaling through your nose in spite of the breath that eludes you throat.

 “Gods, yeah, pretty. Right there, right there. Fuck me, you’re going to drive me crazy, ” Your alpha rasps as you unsuccessfully try to silence the gag that erupts in the back of your mouth while his fingers knead into your hair to tug at the roots as he thrusts into your mouth to plummet lecherously lower.

 Spit pools in every crevice of your mouth until you’re overflowing with it and, as he rams himself into you, all you can do is bear it as your slobber falls like a fountain from your lips in his jostling movements that shake your vision. His eyes have become hazed with craving craze for you and you relish in the way he struggles for breath just as you are in your damning decimation of him.

 Transfixed by the way your eyelids flutter as his dick disappears into the wet warmth of your mouth that he could spend forever in, he husks, “You’re so hot like this with my cock between your lips, pretty. You like this, don’t you? You like sucking your alpha’s dick?” He asks while he watches in interest the way that your saliva escapes the cushion of your lips that pillow him inside you, his thumb brushing it away and back over your lips.

 You moan to let him know that yes, you really do enjoy seeing the way you’re wrecking him through your own devices. Right now, this is about him and seeing his pleasure is far more satisfying than anything you could have imagined. Knowing that you are the one that is affecting him in this way is inexorably exhilarating. It makes you feel powerful. Now, it is you that holds the key to his raptured raptness.

  When your alpha drags his digit along your lower lip, you hum in agreement and the vibrations shoot straight into his member as he arches his back, his head falling even farther as you work him in your mouth while he utters, “Shit, of course you do. You really are perfect for me,” one hand grabs your own to pull you down to the neglected testicles that ache for you, your fingers closing around one delicately to give him a gentle squeeze as he bites at his lip while he growls, “I’m not going to last much longer, pretty. Gods, use that tongue of yours like you did out there when you told those bastards that you’re mine. Show me you meant it, my mate. Let me see how badly you want to please me.”

 His words send a wave of blazing heat through you, tenacious tenacity sweltering within you at the realization that he’d been watching from the shadows and had seen and heard everything that had occurred between you and the two wolves that so stupidly believed they would win you from your soulmate.

 You swallow fatally around him, your muscle swishing and swiveling around him as you unhinge your jaw to completely take him in his entirety when he tugs you down on him. His facial expression detorts to one of unadulterated, unbridled bliss as his own tongue lolls to either side of his parted lips, his eyes closing yet again while the sounds of slurping drip from your lips with the spittle that dribbles below them.

 Your alpha hums, “Mmm, fuck, you’re so good with that little mouth. You fuck my cock with it better than any bitch in this pack ever could.”

 Your cheeks running red at that, you fondle his balls with one hand, your other running your nails down his chest to leave reddened marks of your own over his skin all while you greedily ingurgitate him while he stuffs himself inside you with another dangerous undulation of his hips.

 When your fingers roll his balls like dice between them, that has him keening as he pants, “I’m close, pretty. I’m going to fucking fill you up so much that the taste of me will fucking linger in that hungry mouth of yours for days. You want that, yeah?”

 You nod instantly, your stomach grumbling your salivary glands producing more of their offspring at just the thought of it as you suction him with eager earnestness betwixt your lips.

By now, he’s swelling and throbbing between your lips, his end near by the way his testicles palpitate as you titillate him.

 Your alpha grunts before he rumbles out, “Gods, you are such a ravenous little girl for me. I bet that cunt of yours is just as starved to receive me, isn’t it, little one? Fuck, I could knot you, my mate. I could breed you so well. Do you want my pups, pretty? Do you want me to stuff you to the brim with my fucking seed so you have no choice but to get pregnant and bear my children?”

 You moan at the thought of it, the ostentatious oscillations strafing over his dick as your head bounces back and forth while you quaff him to have him grunt.

 There’s an urge to bask in his simmering gaze as you give him over to his end and, with another sinful swill of him within your mouth as you grope his gonads, you splutter amidst the very large cock currently nestled between your lips, “I want it a-all, Jungkook, but p-please…I w-wish,” you slabber him with your saliva as your tongue twists itself around him, “I wish for y-you to look upon me when you finish in my m-mouth.”

 Each word trickles from you under the labored breaths you inhale through your nose and you hope that they are not burned by the fire that blazes in the corner of the chamber before they can reach him.

 Your voice submerges and dives after him through the sea of exaltation that you have deluged him into and, in your final act to bring him back up for the air of his ecstasy, his eyelids flicker up to reveal golden irises that singe you in their voracious torridity.

 You whine at the way the smoke of desire has smoldered him, his long tongue poking against his cheek as his head tilts back while he consumes you in his sights that leave you squirming along the floor as he husks, “You want me to see who has made me feel so fucking good, yeah? Very well, pretty. Watch me cum just for you.”

 If the dangerous twirl of your tongue along his slit while your hand that had been attached to his testicles slides sinfully down to rub along his perineum isn’t enough to have him come undone, it’s the way that your eyes now gleam with the glazing of the yen of yearning that every blood vessel burns of yours is coated for him with as you fervently fix him inside your mouth.

 You’re the picture of innocence in the white of your dress that curtains you in its angelic wing, but the cock between your lips that you ardently take between them damns you in sin’s tendrils that Jungkook captures you with.

 It is his utter undoing when your cheeks fatally concave in their incurvation as you suck him with tightly compressed pressure inside your wet warmth while you run your tongue along his base at the same time he draws you forward so that your nose brushes the thicket of pubic hairs as you blink with innocent doe-eyes up at him as he howls, “Ah, fuck, I’m there, pretty. I’m cumming because of what you did to me.”

 Euphoria pours itself through him like a cascading waterfall that does douse every part of him that it washes over as his knot swells inside you, his irises never abandoning you through his climax as his seed bursts out of him and spurts across every corner of your mouth.

 You flatten your tongue to catch every bit of him as he feeds you his nectarous ambrosia. His thickened essence spreads and spills over your hot muscle and down your throat deliciously viscous as he makes good on his promise and nourishes your parched body with his sinful sustenance.

 He spouts and streams his taint into you as endlessly as a river and when you think you might just overflow with it, that’s when he extricates himself from you, one hand rising so that his thumb caresses your swollen and abused lips as he coos, “Such a good girl for me. You did so well for your first time, sweetling,” his digit swipes at the stray bead of cum that leaks from you only to sweep his finger over your tongue and you close your mouth around him, moaning out at his tasteful tinge as his eyes flash darkly at you, “That’s it, pretty. Drink every last drop. We wouldn’t want you to thirst for me again while you watch me fight the other alphas for you, now would we?”

 He pulls his digit from you with a ‘pop’ as you lick your lips as you breathe, “No, alpha. That would be a travesty, truly.”

 Your alpha chuckles at that as he gathers you from the floor and when your scent wafts wantonly under his nostrils, he smirks wolfishly, “My, my, my… you really can’t get enough of me, can you?”

 It takes you a second to realize, but when he settles you on his lap once more and your thighs skim each other in the movement, your eyes widen as you draw in a short, small breath.

 Your alpha only arches a sculpted brow, amusement coloring his tone as he teases, “What? Surprised that you got off by humping my leg like the animal that you are while you sucked my cock, pretty?”

 So focused on delivering your alpha over to his end, you’d hardly paid attention to the way your legs had clamped around one of his own as you rutted against him with fervor. You really couldn’t help it with the sight of sin that had commanded your capture under it.

 You whine, your irises dipping low as you trace circles along his bare chest as embarrassment tints your cheeks red, “Jungkook, I didn’t mean to. You just… you did this. It’s your fault.”

 Your alpha laughs at that, one hand settling along your jaw to coax your visage back up at him while your wolf hounds at you to obey as he rumbles, “I shall gladly take the blame then, beautiful. You know, the fact that you came from giving to me the best head that I’ve ever had,” the fingers of his other palm snake under the folds of your dress to drag through the deposit of wetness that now drapes your legs as he brings the digits to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick his finger clean of you as he groans at the flavor of you while his irises dilate, “That’s hot as fuck.”

 Your blush is as red as a ruby as you whimper at that and your alpha grins as his stray hand lands on your hip to trail up and down your back in soothing circular motions to reassure you. His mouth opens to say something else, but before he can, there’s a loud series of knocks against the wooden door interrupts the two of you amidst your illicit indecencies.

 “This is the last call for all alphas that might remain here. The Offering is about to begin,” says the muffled voice of an elder that likely had been sent to collect any lingering wolves that were still in the den.

 You whine loudly as your arms intertwine around your alpha’s neck, your baser being demanding you keep close to your alpha as he softens, the fingers on your cheek splaying out so that his digits caress you as utters, “Come, pretty. I must ready myself for what is to come and I require my mate’s aid to assist me in dressing, for you’ve temporarily robbed me of my faculties after what you’ve just done to me.”

 Your wolf preens at that as your hand lifts as you lay your palm over his own while you implore, “Must we go so soon? I do not wish to leave your side.”

 Your alpha stands and he’s careful to lift you up and off of him even while your arms tighten around his neck as he rumbles, “After this is all over, you will be free to be with me whenever, wherever and however you desire, my mate. You know the rules,” he moves back and you follow him in your embrace until his thighs hit the back of the vanity where his clothes sit on the abandoned chair, “I must duel anyone that tries to contest me for you, sweetling. It simply is the way of things and I will not hesitate to engage in battle with any wolf that attempts to take what is rightfully mine. You are everything to me and I will make certain that everyone knows it. Do you understand, pretty?”

  You nod as you nuzzle the sensitive gland along his neck as a purr trembles from your throat while you scent him, “I understand, Jungkook. I only fear the bloody destruction you’ll leave in your wake for any fools that think they can tear you away from me.”

 “That shall be their mistake, pretty,” he sighs in satisfaction as he tilts his head back to grant access as you paint him with the stroke of your lips over the tender skin along his clavicle, “I will not lose you.”

 Tenet blazes in his eyes and conviction radiates his words that emit with the sun’s might their fierceness as they fall over you to set your own affection alight within you as you lace your lips along his jaw in a stripe of kisses that you thread there as you manage between them, “There is not a shred of doubt in my mind that you will be the champion amongst them all. However it may be, you have already won me, alpha.”

 With that, you embellish him with the cloth he will wear in his battles for you. You help him delicately pull the garment over his head that shades him in the color of soot. It is akin to a sheet of thin charcoal that dyes him in its film of darkness that, like his earlier shirt, is grainy and dusts him lightly in its hue, his sun soaked skin shining brilliantly from beneath it. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of it as you tuck it into cotton trousers that are black as night and your alpha smirks when the smell of your arousal drips down to collect itself amidst the pool of your taint yet again as he watches with interest the way that you chew at your lip while you tug the white blazer across bulging arms that catch at the heavier material as you drag it over him.

 He makes certain to playfully provoke you by wrapping an arm around your waist only to schlep you forward, your hands planting themselves against his broad, strong chest as he asks, “Are you ready to watch me show everyone that I and I alone am the only wolf that is deserving of you as his mate?”

 You nudge at the edge of his collarbone to catchily collect as much of his riveting redolence as you can before you sow another row of kisses along his skin only to pull away and admit, “Always.”

[songbirdsingingthings]

This request (if it's still an option) might be a little odd and will admittedly stay more feminine, but if i may?

Might i request a small shoto x reader story where the reader is a practicing witch? It's something i personally am into and i think it would be fun to read. Imagine shoto learning about spell candles, crystals charging positive energy, tarot cards, that stuff, because the person he likes uses them a lot.

It might be a touch vague, plot wise, but from west I've read it's sure to be something you can make amazing. Thank you very much. (Anonymous because this is my first time ever requesting something like this and I'm way to shy about it.)

Intuition - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Fluff, Swearing (It’s Bakugou, so, that’s kinda a given)

Requested by Anonymous:

A/N: Hi!!! I am so sorry that this took me freaking AGES to write. In between trying to research and find reputable sources to learn from about what you requested and dealing with school stuff (honestly, my teachers just think that all of my free time should be filled with school work smh) I finally FINALLY finished! I really hope you enjoyed, and I really found it interesting learning about all these things! <3

Word Count: 1.5K

“Y/N, may I ask you a question?” Shouto’s smooth voice cut through to your senses, rousing you from the book you currently had your nose in. Sitting just inches away from you was the red-and-white haired boy, the textbook he had been consulting now bookmarked and set next to him. With a raise of your eyebrow in curiosity, you marked your page and nodded.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, leaning a bit closer to him. Shouto, being your boyfriend for now 2 months and comfortable with touch, wrapped a light arm around your waist.

“I was just curious about your choice of decor for your dorm, it’s quite unique.” A knowing smile graced your lips as your gaze left his handsome face and flitted around your dorm. On top of shelves, all over your desk, and even on the balcony windowsill you had, crystals and candles dotted the room. A smile graced your lips as you saw Shouto’s eyes on the various beloved items.

“I guess you can say it’s unique,” You start to say, standing from your spot on the floor and going over to your desk and taking your favorite crystal into your hand. It was a simple clear quartz cluster but it’s been with you the longest. You motion for Shouto to stand up next to you so he could see it more clearly. “This one is a clear quartz,” you explain as he bends down so that his eyes are eye-level with the crystal.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, his gaze transfixed on the quartz. With a laugh, you carefully place it back down on your desk.

“Well, it’s not all just a pretty face. It’s actually charged with a lot of healing energy, so it’s provided some real tranquility in my life.” Shouto’s eyes narrow in confusion, looking back up to yours.

“You’re not telling me that this crystal has a quirk, do you?” He asks, genuinely perplexed. With a bark of laughter, you shake your head.

“No, no, it doesn’t have a quirk. I’ve just been charging the crystal myself.” Still sensing some bewilderment from your boyfriend, you grab a few different items - the quartz, a spell candle from your windowsill, and a pack of tarot cards from your desk - and lead him over to your bed to sit down. “A lot of the things I have in my room have a more… spiritual side to them. Basically with things like crystals, I charge them with positive energies. I do this by cleansing them and then emanating positive thoughts, intentions, or words to the crystals themselves.” Shouto nods, seemingly understanding that concept.

“Are the candles and cards similar?” He wonders. 

“Well, they’re all similar in the way that they’re part of witchcraft. People who are practicing witches usually have some, if not all, of these things and probably a lot more. I’m kind of in the low-key part of witchcraft since I don’t really cast spells or am part of a coven or anything, but I really enjoy it.” You gush, causing Shouto’s cheeks to heat up a bit. He’s always loved seeing you so passionate about things whether it be in classes or during hero training, but your passion here was on a whole other level.

“Interesting,” he says, “so what purpose do the candles serve?” His interested tone causes a giddy smile to flicker across your face, sending you into ‘explanation mode’.

“The candles are actually pretty cool. Like the crystals, it’s recommended that you cleanse and charge them in order for them to work. I usually buy these from that crystal store on mainstreet, and this one is one of my favorites! It’s actually one for my zodiac sign,” you tell him, holding the glass holder up in front of him so that he could read the label. 

“And the cards?” He asks, leaning over to view the pack of cards.

“Oh! Those are tarot cards.” “I’m assuming they are pretty different from regular cards?” He asks, a little smirk on his face.

“You would be right in assuming that, yes,” you say, giggling while sliding the deck out of its container. You give the deck a few shuffles. “They can help to gain insight on peoples’ futures by drawing cards that represent your past, present, and your future.” Shouto’s eyes widened.

“They can tell your future?” He exclaims, a little wary but also excited about the prospect of it.

“Yeah, you want me to give you a reading?” 

“Yes!” Shouto says quickly. Your heart warms at his enthusiasm as you let your shuffling come to a stop. Spreading the cards out in your hand, you hold them face down in front of your boyfriend.

“Okay, pick three.” You say simply, yet Shouto still hesitates.

“Is there a strategy for picking them?” He asks.

“Just go on your intuition. Pick what your heart tells you to.” You murmur. Shouto nods slowly and lets his fingers hover over the cards. He lets his fingers dangle for only a minute before picking his three cards and setting them on your bed covers. With a satisfied smile, you straighten up the rest of the cards, set them aside, and turn your attention to the three he picked. You turn them over one by one. His first card, representing his past, is The Tower. The second card, representing his present, is the Death card. And finally, representing his future, he picked the The World card. As Shouto’s eyes rake over his cards, they settle and widen comically at the middle card.

“Uh, oh no, Y/N I picked death.” He said, his breathing becoming a little shallow at his sudden spurt of panic.

“That’s okay Sho, just let me give you your reading, yeah?” You soothe, urging him to calm down. With a hesitant nod, he settles down a bit. “Okay! So for your first card, you chose The Tower. Now this card represents sudden upheaval, broken pride, and disaster. Think back to your past whether it be just yesterday or years beforehand. I know you had a tough childhood and growing up was never easy for you,” you say, trying to empathize with Shouto. He nods acceptingly, having already acknowledged his past.

“Yes, this card makes sense.” He simply says. Your gaze focuses next on the middle card - Death.

“I know this card can look a little scary, but I promise it’s not.” You say, trying to gently ease Shouto into the idea that his current present is represented by death. “The Death card represents the end of a cycle, new beginnings, and metamorphosis. Think and turn your consciousness to your thoughts right now. Think about how much you have changed from your past, and find solace in the end of that cycle and the beginning of a new one.” Shouto closes his eyes and unconsciously begins to smile, causing your own to shine brighter.

“That is a comforting thought. I never thought I could find relief from a card that says death on it.” He remarks, opening his eyes back up to yours. You could tell he was eager to hear about his last card - his future.

“And your final card is The World. I’m not being biased or anything, I promise you I’m not, but this is one of my favorite cards.” You admit, earning a sparkle to show in your boyfriend's eyes. “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. Try and imagine your future. This completion and fulfillment could come in the form of many things whether it be your career, your friendships-”

“A romantic relationship?” He asks, his cheeks now burning with red. You feel yourself begin to fluster and the silly smile across your face causes you to look at your hands.

“Yes, this card could potentially apply to a romantic relationship.” You murmur softly. You busy yourself with cleaning up the cards and putting them back in their container, still flushed with the thought of Shouto hoping for harmony within your relationship. However, your thoughts are put to a halt when Shouto has a soft hand beneath your chin, gently angling your head so that your eyes meet his.

“I like the thought of a fulfilling relationship with you.” He confesses, his doe eyes causing you to melt.

“I, uh, Shouto the card might not be referring to that though.” You stammer, your eyes flicking in between his and his lips.

“You said that I should go on intuition beforehand, yes?” He asks, wanting you to confirm. When you nod your head, his smile turns into a smirk. “Well then my intuition tells me that the card is referring to us.” And in one fluid motion, his lips are on yours. Like always, they’re soft, slow, and sensual… and you can never get enough of them. With one hand going up to play with his hair and the other one wrapping around his neck, you press yourself closer to him as he kisses you more feverishly. 

“Thanks for my reading,” he says breathlessly, each word in between kisses. You yourself are breathless as well, sinking into his embrace like puddy.

“Anytime.”

[whaleofatjme1920]

I saw you were doing matchups,, may I get a tf2 one?

I am a 4"11 female who goes by any and all pronouns, I have pale skin due to not going outside alot. I'm a bit reserved to myself, and don't really talk unless it's someone I'm close with- or if it's a topic I'm really indulged and interested in. I have short, brown hair that I'm thinking on dying it rainbow, and I have a few freckles on my face, and alot on my arms. I mostly wear baggy and comfortable clothing, and I always have a hoodie on in public.

I draw alot and I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy traditional and digital drawing, and I love animals, mostly cats but I also love pigeons! Favorite snack is chocolate and I love to drink cola, I probably drink too much soda lmao. I also enjoy watching subreddit readings videos like Emkay and OzMedia.

I main Sniper and Pyro in tf2, but other games I enjoy are the sims 4, A Hat In Time, and deltarune. I also used to really love fnaf, but I got out of it. I still have alot of the plushies though.

So uh yeah, feel free to match me up if you want shdbdb

Your matchup is... Engineer!

[Disclaimer, if you're coming from the tags, this is part of a special event I am holding from November 17th to the 21st where I am accepting matchups from all fandoms I currently write for. Feel free to check out my 1K celebration masterlist here for rules during the window this event is open! If it's past the 21st midnight USA central time, do NOT send me a matchup. I will have to politely turn you down. Sorry </3]

In General

I almost put you with Pyro but I felt that too easy.

Things He Likes About You

Physically speaking Dell really likes that you're shorter than him. He also really likes your freckles and thinks rainbow would be absolutely gorgeous on you!! You also give off really wholesome vibes which attracts the hell out of Dell tbh. Loves your art, no questions asked. Also, you're an animal lover?? So is he!! He has such a soft spot for cats. Doesn't get birds as much but he thinks they're pretty. He likes chocolate as well, not so much pop, but like, hey. He likes sweet tea the most. Also, he's a fan of story games. Undertale and Deltrarune being some of his favorites.

You Two as a Couple

SO, I think the two of you are a wholesome couple. he would get you plushies from any fandom, or cute things he thinks you'd like. He has a like, this really big baggy blue hoodie he'd let you wear because it smells like him and when it's returned, smells like you! I think Dell is extremely easy to open up to, and you're no exception to that. He finds out what you're interested in pretty fast and the two of you go off on absolute tangents. Dell is an artist himself, like, he's really good at it - absolutely will draw you at one point or another. Loves your art more though, honestly thinks you're better than him in like, everything. He might mother hen you from time to time, telling you to have some water, or whatever but that's just because he cares. You absolutely get him into subreddit videos!! I think he likes Emkay's Lexi the most tbh (yes I'm biased because she's my favorite narrator too). Dell will get you sweet things too, chocolates with a cheesy little note like how sweet he thinks you are. He gets weirdly into the Sims--. I feel you're both emotionally sensitive people, which Dell appreciates because he's a soft guy. Wholesome couple right here.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things

Hi love bug, here's your matchup! I like Emkay and OzMedia as well. You know who I miss though?? SorrowTv. Smh. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed <3

[myghostmonument]

13 x Reader: Breathe

Notes: Jenny, posting a WAY overdue 13xreader request? More likely than you think. I let this one get away from me (shocker!) and it’s definitely not as tight or polished as I’d like prose-wise, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless. This one is also gender-neutral for the reader, can I get a wahoo? Summary: You find yourself sick with guilt over the events of the witch hunt in Lancashire, unable to stop reliving the moment when the Doctor was plunged into the lake and you did nothing to save her. Sleep offers no respite from the memories, and desperate to remind yourself that the Doctor is alive and well, you go looking for her while everyone else sleeps. Warnings: none? unless like me you’re still very much not over this episode, WC: 5500 smh

Breathe, you reminded yourself.

Again, and again. Breathe. A blur of sensations flowed past your awareness without being truly registered: sound, colour, movement. The voices of your friends, and some other people too. An entire conversation. Movement, including your own. Life was happening, yet it passed right through you. You just put one foot in front of the other, and eventually you had found yourself in the TARDIS, with no real memory of arriving there. Breathe. “So! Where to next? Past? Future? Present? Nobody ever thinks about the present, but there are so many presents happening all over the place - ” The Doctor had thrown off her coat as she reached the console, and was darting around it, her hands moving almost as fast as her words. Graham, Yaz and Ryan shared a look, considering. “I think it’s your turn to pick,” Yaz told Ryan, who pursed his lips. The Doctor’s head poked around the main crystal, eyes bright as she waited for the answer. The soft, muted light of the room didn’t so much illuminate her features as much as it suffused them, as if she too were a gently glowing crystal. You reminded yourself to breathe again as you watched her. She was safe, smiling, alive. Breathe. “Presently I just want my bed,” Ryan announced finally. “One that’s not stuffed with hay.” The Doctor made a face. “Yeah, sleeping first sounds good,” Yaz agreed. “Sorry,” she added as the Doctor’s grimace deepened. “Well I wasn’t gonna say it but now that you have,” Graham began, before yawning. The Doctor’s grimace shifted into a full-on nose-wrinkled scrunch as her eyes moved to you, imploring. Breathe. In truth, you wanted to rest too. But when you tried to say that, the words got lost along the way, pushed aside. “Are you okay?” you asked, instead. The Doctor blinked, momentarily startled. Then her easy expression slid back into place and she turned away, busying herself at the controls. When she spoke her voice was breezy. “Okay? Of course I’m okay. You know me, I’m always okay. I’m the King of okay. Or should it be Queen now?” The Doctor paused, head falling to the side as she considered this. Breathe, you reminded yourself again. “I’d say go with your gut on this one,” Graham advised, yawning again. The Doctor wrinkled her nose. “Seems an unnecessary distinction, really,” she groused, sounding disapproving now, as if personally disappointed with gender constructs and titles. “You lot spend too much time worrying about that stuff.” “Hey, what’ve we said about talking potshots at humans?” Graham complained, and the Doctor flapped an unimpressed hand at him as she resumed darting around the console. “Anyway Doc, you’re the one as brought it up - ” Yaz and Ryan both groaned. “I’m not getting into this again,” Yaz announced, turning away. “I’ll see you all after a hot shower and a long nap. Stay out of trouble till then, yeah?” “That’d be a first,” Ryan said, following Yaz towards the corridor that led to everyone’s rooms. “Oi! I am perfectly capable of staying out of trouble, thank you,” the Doctor called indignantly to their retreating backs. “See that’s the problem with a flat team structure, you get no respect,” Graham observed philosophically. “Can’t have it both ways, Doc.” He was grinning, but it turned into yet another yawn. “Right. Bed. You coming, love?” The last words were directed at you, and you tore your eyes away from the Doctor to glance at him. “Yeah, in a minute,” you muttered, shifting your feet. Your eyes had already moved back to the Doctor, or what you could see of her anyway, hunched over the console. You didn’t see the appraising look on Graham’s face as he eyed the two of you. You didn’t even hear him leave. You were still watching her. Breathe. “Not tired then?” the Doctor asked after a while, not immediately looking at you. It wasn’t uncommon for her to spend hours absorbed in tinkering with the TARDIS, but you felt that she was purposely finding reasons to avoid your gaze as she shifted around. When you were silent for too long, she finally straightened up and met your gaze. Her hair was slightly wavy, and she’d already collected a smudge of grease on her cheek. And though her expression was politely inquisitive, there was something about the console’s glow that highlighted the hollows under her eyes, and the tightness around her mouth. It had been there ever since she’d come out of that lake. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked again. You weren’t sure that it was your place to ask it, but if not you, then who? Surely someone had to care for her, because you were starting to doubt that she ever did. Breathe. “ ‘Course,” the Doctor repeated. “No need to worry. Not the first time someone’s found me annoying enough to chuck in a lake.” Your face clearly reflected your unassuaged concerns, because she gifted you her brightest smile. “Get some rest, go on then. I promise not to jump in any bodies of water in the meantime.” Still you hesitated, unwilling to turn your back on her. Unwilling to leave her alone, to not be there for her again. You looked at her, hunched over the console. She was softly lit, her hair glowing golden and almost translucent in places. She looked very small as she stood there, a lone star glimmering in the depths of space, and you wanted nothing so much as to cross that looming distance and wrap your arms around her, as if you could hold her so fiercely that you might somehow - fix everything. As if you could  keep her from being thrown in that lake, from being touched in fear and anger and violence. And as if you could finally hold her long enough to convince yourself that she was here, she was real. Was safe. Could not she feel this need? It was pulling at you like the forces of gravity, towards her. Always, towards her. Sometimes you thought she noticed it, that she must feel it too, this pull. When your eyes would touch from across a room, or a battlefield, or a table, you thought surely - surely she feels this too, the universe bending around us, surely - Breathe.

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t - she wasn’t yours to claim, or to look after. You certainly could not go to her, not in the way that burned through your veins with such painful need. Lingering here like this, asking after the Doctor’s well-being… that was dangerous enough. Uncharted territory, in which you didn’t know the boundaries. Certainly it wasn’t your place to comfort the Doctor, and not when she was so relentlessly cheerful in the face of your concern. (But it not your place, then who's? Who’s? Breathe.)   So, you did as you always did, and resisted the pull, maintaining a careful hold on your emotions. Your feelings for her… they were vast, deep. Unexplored, and perhaps best left that way. When the Doctor glanced up at you again, still smiling, you ignored that jerk on your heart (on your soul, oh, breathe) and you smiled back. Weakly, perhaps. But a smile nonetheless. “No lakes,” you said. “Cross my hearts,” the Doctor said solemnly. And so you left her, alone in the dim console. And shortly after you fell into your bed, alone in your dim room. You stared at the wall for what felt like hours, trying and failing to not replay the memory, that memory, to not see her bound and drowned. Over, and over. Alone, watched by many and helped by none. Was it any wonder that your gradual slide into sleep afforded you no respite from the memories? If anything, the dreams allowed the scenes to become brighter, sharper, slower. More cruel. The wind in your dream was cutting and cold as you stood again on the lake’s edge, colder even than it had been on that day. You felt that it was paring you away one bit at a time, stripping away flesh and muscle and emotions and leaving only stark, raw truth behind. Because you had realized the truth of you, standing there surrounded by your friends. You were a coward. You had to be. Only a coward would stand frozen as they watched their friend (as if friend was even an adequate word to describe her, to hold the shape and history and the essence of what the Doctor was, what she had become to you) was ritualistically chained to a log and drowned. It hadn’t happened fast, or without warning. There had been a process, conversations. It had been an event. And you had just stood there, with Ryan and Graham and Yaz, while the wind knifed through you and revealed your true selves. There were plenty of reasons (excuses) why you didn’t act, any of you. Shock, certainly, and denial that this was happening at all. A lingering confidence that the Doctor was just playing along, and would never let herself actually be caught… be be chained… be mocked… be dunked - “No - “ with the word you jerked awake, terror flooding your limbs and crushing your chest. You sat up, drawing in a shuddering breath. You could feel your hands shaking. Your eyes were open, but the dream - the memories - continued their relentless flood, and you saw it again and again, the Doctor plunging into the lake, bound, mocked, alone. Saw again the water close over her head. You had finally acted, then. Maybe it was because of the four of you, you had the most to lose… or perhaps just the least faith. But when the Doctor had plunged into the water, something in you had broken. You might have screamed (you had) as your vision had gone white, lights exploding behind your eyes. Your frozen legs had leaped forwards, shoes slipping in the mud, hands reaching, reaching for her, even as the ripples and bubbles on the lake quelled. But you hadn’t even been able to act retroactively, hadn’t been able to  even try. Because long before you made it to the water that had gone terrifyingly still, a vise had clamped around you, binding your arms to your side. Keeping you from her. You knew you had screamed that time. It was the same scream that had lingered on your lips as you jerked awake, back on the TARDIS. You hadn’t actually been bound, of course. In reality it had been Ryan’s arms around you. Very cognizant of both his coordination abilities and the fact that he was easily the largest member of the Team, it was rare for Ryan to access his strength. Rarer still, for him to use it against anyone. But when the King had cried “duck her”, when you had stopped breathing and watched those cold waters close over the Doctor’s head and had leaped after her, when you had screamed, Ryan had used every bit of his size and strength to catch you and hold you to him. “You can’t, you can’t, it won’t help - ” he had pleaded, his own voice breaking, his own arms trembling with the need to go to her, to save her, this extraordinary woman who you were all just watching die. You’d have to apologize to him. You had the lingering suspicion you might have kicked his shins; you knew you had scrabbled at his arms, ripping your nails on his coat and probably wounding him. And he had borne it all. Had held you, kept you safe, even in the face of his own agony and rage and fear. (Yeah, you’d definitely need to be apologizing to him.)   But you weren’t thinking about that yet, as you swung your legs off the bed and gripped the sheets with shaking hands. Your ribs felt too tight, a band of pressure that your heart threw itself against, again and again. You swallowed hard, shutting your eyes and burying your face in hands that still shook. You still couldn’t wrap your mind around how close you all had come to losing her (and how much it affected you, hollowed you out and left a gaping void where something else, something happy had once been). Oh, the Doctor could gloss it over with her normal disregard for such petty human fears like drowning, or death. It’d take more than a few minutes in a lake and some rubbish chains to be rid of me, she’d declared, complete with her signature cheeky grin. But you weren’t so sure. Again and again, your re-lived it. Those clever, slender hands in chains. The wind, lifting strands of her hair. Her silhouette, alone on the edge of the water as everyone backed away. Her eyes, as the water closed over her head. The silence that followed it. That silence… you didn’t think you’d ever forget it.  It had found its way in you, into that void, and somehow its presence eft you even more hollow. “No, no, no,” you gasped, you chest rising and falling jerkily. You just couldn’t stop seeing it. Couldn’t stop living it. The Doctor, your Doctor, and you had just stood there and let violence happen to her. Your fists pounded the mattress on either side of you as you gasped in a shuddering breath, lest your lingering fear and shame choke you. You had to see her again. You had to - you had to make sure she was still here. Breathing, laughing, safe. Maybe then you could sleep. Maybe then you could start to live with yourself again. You didn’t have the faintest idea what time it was, or how long you had been sleeping. There weren’t any clocks in your room, or you suspected anywhere else on the TARDIS. That seemed on-brand for the Doctor (although an entire room devoted to clocks would also be on-brand, she was just like that). And you’d lost your mobile several adventures ago. It probably didn’t matter. Even if was still the dead of whatever passed as night on the TARDIS, you figured the Doctor was unlikely to be sleeping. You’d never actually seen her sleep, and she was remarkably offhand and vague about it whenever the subject was broached. Ryan had a whole conspiracy theory about it.  So, your hands still shaking and your throat still tight with that choking mixture of fear and shame, you stood up and left your room. Your breathing steadied some as you walked, now that you were moving and had a goal. You just needed to see her, and then maybe you could rest. (You knew that was probably a lie. But it was better than nothing. Seeing her was always better than anything.) But she wasn’t in the main console room. It still glowed with soft light and softer humming, but with no familiar form of the Doctor darting to and fro, it seemed suddenly… wrong, as you loitered in a doorway and looked up at those massive crystals. You didn’t feel like an intruder, precisely, but your skin still prickled with unease as you gazed out at the shadowed, empty room that normally rang with such laughter and noise and life. The quiet struck a chord in you, something that resonated painfully with that hollow place where your heart had been. This was what it would be like if she had actually - if she was truly - if - “No,” you gasped, clutching the door frame with one hand while the other fisted at your side. No. “I have to see her. Then I’ll know - then I can - I have to see her.” Silence, save for your ragged breathing, in and out. In and out. Then something hummed in your ear. You jumped and straightened, turning to see a flashing light along the wall.  It pulsed, then vanished, reappearing several yards farther down the corridor. You eyed it, then glanced over your shoulder at the main console. “Uh, am I meant to follow?” you voiced, hesitantly. The Doctor was never entirely clear on how sentient this timeship of hers actually was, and in this dark empty room, with the echoes of your dream still thrumming in your blood… it was easy to lose what tenuous grasp on reality you had left. The console remained silent, but the lights flickered again, brighter. Annoyed? “Right, sorry,” you said. What else was there to do? You followed them, because lead you they did. Deeper into the TARDIS, areas you’d never seen before. You weren’t sure if you traveled a great distance or merely a few steps; time seemed to loosen its hold on you, gentling and blurring its edges. You reached another doorway, and blinked as the lights that had been your sole focus and companion dimmed and vanished. You felt surprisingly bereft without them. Wait, you wanted to say. Come back, don’t leave me. But the words died before they reached your lips, because you’d edged closer to the doorway and all at once you forgot everything but her, her. The TARDIS had led you to the Doctor, just as you’d asked. Real, breathing, alive. “Thank you,” you whispered, your hand finding the wall as you blinked back sudden tears, your knees sagging with the relief that surged through you. “Oh, thank you.” Warmth bloomed beneath your palm as the TARDIS gave a soft hum of acknowledgement.  You scrubbed at your eyes, wiping away the traces of tears before they could fall and watching as the Doctor moved in and out of your field of vision. She looked rumpled, from what you could tell; her hair was curling in a way that indicated she’d been running her hands through it, and she wasn’t wearing her coat, her suspenders hanging loose at her hips. She was also talking to herself, but her voice was too low and she was too far for you to make any of it out. Which was fine. Good, even; you weren’t here to spy on her. You had just needed to see her. You took a steadying breath and prepared to turn away, hesitating only when the Doctor crossed back into view. She stopped, still muttering to herself. Or perhaps to the TARDIS. The light in the room was muted, a hair’s breadth away from being truly dim. You idly wondered what room it actually was - and then promptly stopped wondering anything at all as the Doctor abruptly shrugged out of her shirts. Your entire brain jammed, heat flooding your face and then sweeping through the rest of you. Oh, uh, wait, uh - Feeling as if you were trying to claw your way through mud, you wrestled your brain back into cooperation with your body and turned to leave, quickly. Gods, spying was bad enough, but while she undressed? Oh no, no. This was sacrosanct - she was sacrosanct. So you turned your blazing face away, towards the welcome darkness of the TARDIS corridor. But as you did, something caught your attention, told your subconscious hey, wait, look again, you missed it. You couldn’t help yourself; you glanced back in the room. And froze. Because the Doctor was still visible. And so was the massive stain of marbled blue and purple running across her back. Your breath caught in your throat. And you were stepping into the room and crossing to the Doctor long, long before your mind caught up with your body. Shock was coursing through you, but you could feel something else on its heels, gathering, a wave preparing to strike. It was, you realized distantly, rage. Your mind still hadn’t caught up when you reached out a hand. Your finger brushed along the edge of the bruise, at her jutting shoulder blade. The Doctor yelped, whirling on you faster than you would have thought possible, her hands thrown up to ward you off. You had jumped as well, the spell broken and your face flushing as you stumbled back a step. “You - scared the daylights out of me,” the Doctor said, dropping her hands and sounding equal parts relieved and annoyed. You registered that she was wearing only a bra; you’d never seen so much of her skin before. This was - bad. This was really bad. What had you been thinking? You opened your mouth to say I’m sorry, I’ll leave now, please don’t chuck me into a supernova like I definitely deserve. “Did they do that to you?” you asked, instead, and were surprised at the intensity of your voice. The Doctor clearly was too, her aggrieved look faded and was replaced by something else, something hard to pin down. She seemed to be deciding whether or not to evade the question, as she was wont to do. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, avoiding your gaze, but that only drew your attention to her wrists. You sucked in a breath; raw red stripes encircled them, stark against her pale skin. Rope burns. The Doctor’s eyes flicked to yours at your breath, and she dropped her hands hastily and tried to shove them both into her trouser pockets, only to wince as the fabric scraped over the raw, angry wounds. “Why didn’t you say something?” you asked her, your voice thin and brittle. Like ice, cracking. Look what they’d done to her, your Doctor, look what they’d done to her. Rage was making your hands shake again, but grief was rising now in its wake. “You should have told us - ” “What? Oh, no. This is nothing. Hardly worth mentioning, really, just some bumps, hardly even notice ‘em. All part of the job, you know.” Her voice was light, but she wasn’t meeting your eyes. “Doctor - ” “Oi, I’m fine, no need to fuss.” “Fine?” you asked, incredulous, and you reached out, your hand settling lightly on her shoulder and gently turning her so that you could again see that lurid pattern of bruising that ran across her spine. “Fine?” Rage was still coursing through your veins, but the tide was coming in, and  grief was catching up. “This is not  - fine -  this is the opposite of fine - ”  The Doctor was silent under this onslaught, looking absolutely gobsmacked. You weren’t generally one for taking command, certainly not over her, and you both were always so careful around each other. No superfluous touches, no casual affection. Yet now you held the Doctor’s warm shoulder with one hand, while your other lifted to trace the edges of that ugly bruise, and she was still beneath your touch. Letting you hold her. Touch her. Oh, but these were uncharted waters. “I can’t believe they did this,” you murmured, and perhaps the Doctor could hear the hint of tears in your words, because she shrugged. “I heal fast, me. Hardly bothers me half so much as it did.” “But it does hurt,” you said, your words almost a whisper. She didn’t reply to that. It hadn’t been a question. Your fingers ghosted over the bruising, and though her skin shivered and jumped in places, she didn’t pull away. But then your fingers found a rougher section, the skin raw. It was clearly a former wound, bruised so deeply that the skin had broken. The Doctor made a stifled sound as you brushed it, and you immediately moved your hand. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes. “It’s fine - ” “No, it’s not,” you cried, your voice breaking. You let out a shuddering breath and rested your forehead against the nape of her neck. “I let you down,” you whispered, and the pooling tears overflowed, began to slide down your face. “I should have been there, should never have let them get their hands on you, should have stopped them from trying to kill you, but I just stood there, I let them - ” “Hey, hey, hold on,” the Doctor was saying over your words. She finally turned in your arms. “This isn’t your fault!” she was trying to catch your eyes, and finally settled for a hand under your chin, lifting it. “You didn’t let me down, don’t be daft.” You looked at her earnest, concerned face while tears ran silently down your cheeks. “Oh, what’s this then?” she asked softly, moving her hand so that she could wipe away a tear. “I’m fine, honestly. ” “I keep - I keep seeing it, seeing it happen - ” you choked on the words. “I almost lost you. I just stood there, and I almost lost you, and I can’t stop seeing it - ” you were shaking as much as your voice, now. The Doctor’s lips had parted as she stared at you. “What do you mean, you can’t stop seeing it? And anyway, from what I can gather you did not ‘just stand there’,” the Doctor added, her lips twitching. “Ryan showed me a very nicely bruised shin earlier, I’m proper impressed. Didn’t know you had it in you.” She clearly meant to lighten the mood, but your throat only tightened, the tears falling faster. “Oh, okay, alright,” she murmured, and reached up to cradle your face. You closed your eyes, her compassionate scrutiny suddenly too much to bear. “It’s over. It’s okay. I’m here now, hey?” Her thumbs moved in soft circles over your cheeks as she searched your face. “Look at me,” she said. “Come on, look, there you are.” You exhaled shakily, staring back into those hazel depths that captured you so easily, so completely. You sniffed, angry with yourself. You knew you were doing this wrong, that this had somehow become about you, and your pain, when it was the Doctor who had been hurt, the Doctor who you wanted to help. “Nobody lost me, I’m right here,” she said, the low light in the room catching her eyes as they roved over your face. You could see flecks of gold in them, glimmering like so many stars. She wiped away another tear.  “I should have helped you,” you whispered, wretched with the shame of it. “I’m sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for,” the Doctor said, her eyes still moving over your face. “Except for skulking in here and scaring me half to Skaro, maybe.” She affected sternness as she said it, but you knew her heart wasn’t in it. She was still looking at you so carefully, her hand on your face. As if you were the one who had been brave, who had been hurt. Oh, you were doing this wrong. “I just - needed to see you,” you said, your voice low. “The dreams - ” You broke off. Took a breath. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” “Hm,” the Doctor said, her brows lifting, “bit late for that, though.”  She frowned, eyes darting to the side in thought. “How did you find me? This is a bit off the beaten path, TARDIS-wise.” She still didn’t sound angry, just curious. “I don’t entirely know,” you answered. “I looked for you in the main console, and then these lights came on and they led me to - here,” you finished. Led me to you. “Really? She doesn’t usually do that. What are you, offering guided tours now?” The last words were directed to the room at large as the Doctor stepped away from you, hands landing on her hips. You became aware again that she wasn’t wearing a shirt. Oh, oh, crap - “Uh - do you want a - your shirt -” you were tripping all over yourself, trying to set your brain and mouth back onto the same path of coherency. The Doctor swung back around to you, brows lifted again in a very familiar look. “You humans and your modesty,” she said, falling into her standard cadence for remarking on humanity’s failings. “So many rules about when and where you should be clothed, who should be clothed, what type of clothes - and then once they’re laid out, you break all of the rules! Just switch them around, and expect everyone to catch up! Here I am, minding my own business, and now I’m told I ought to be embarrassed not to be wearing a shirt! In my room! No, I am not having it. You will take me as I am, ah -”  She had moved around as she spoke, gesticulating wildly as only she could, but on the last gesture her face twisted in a flash of pain as she moved her injured shoulder. The expression was gone in an instant, but you had seen it, had heard the slight hitch in her speech. Without thinking, you moved forwards again. Reached out. You turned her gently, fingers again ghosting over that lurid mark, that thing that was hurting her. You knew it wasn’t the true source of her pain, not really. Bumps, scrapes, bruises; you’d seen her bear them all and worse with a bright smile and brighter enthusiasm. No, her pain here ran deeper than physical. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” she said, sounding a bit annoyed, and a bit something else. She had gone very still. “We Time Lords aren’t half so fragile as you lot.” “Fragile enough,” you whispered, eyes roving that bruise, that mark of violence done against her. You leaned forwards acting on nothing but instinct, on need, and brushed your lips along her jutting scapula, along the edge of that violence. You heard her breathing hitch, but she did not move. So you let your lips move, following the path of that violence as if you could smooth it away, undo it. Your hands trailed down until they rested on the Doctor’s hips, fingers just curling around the hem of her trousers, your palms warm against her skin as you held her. God, what were you thinking? “I should go,” you said, reluctantly, your nose resting in her hair as you leaned your face against her. You could feel her pulse, the warm blood rushing beneath her skin. The moment seemed to expand, crystallize, trembling on the edge of - something. But of what? “Then why are you still here?” the Doctor asked, softly. You weren’t sure what you read in her voice. “Why are you?” In answer, she turned in your arms again. You weren’t sure, later, who kissed who first. You both had a good case for it, as your lips met and your bodies pressed together. Your hands found themselves moving as well, wrapping around the Doctor and holding her to you. She made a low sound, or maybe it was you, and your lips found hers again eagerly, desperately. It wasn’t until your hands slid farther around her as she pressed into you that she stiffened, hissed in a soft breath against your face. You’d inadvertently pressed against the edges of the bruise. “Sorry, oh, I’m sorry,” you said, agonized, pulling away to look at her and dropping your hands. “It’s fine,” she insisted, but you were shaking your head. “Will you stop saying that?” “Maybe if you start believing me,” she replied, her face scrunching. You scrunched back, and you both stared at each other like that before breaking at the same time, the Doctor laughing and your own scrunch tipping into a smile before you too laughed. “Rule one, the Doctor lies,” you told her. Her scrunch returned. “My rules are always changing,” she countered. “What do I need to do to prove it to you?” Her voice had started light, but it ended somewhere else, on a pitch you couldn’t immediately pin down but made your stomach flutter in a most distracting manner. “I have a few ideas,” you said. Her answering smile seemed to light up the room. Again that flutter, again that pull towards her, always her. But this time, you let it move you. But this time, she moved too. You came together like the tide reaching for the shore, like celestial bodies, like there had never been any other possible outcome. You took her face in your hands, stared into those star-spun eyes. “I’m glad you’re fine,” you whispered, her cheeks warm against your hands as you looked at her. She was still smiling, her eyes huge and soft and shining, those flecks of gold in them seeming to glitter, and you knew that these were eyes you could get lost in. You could feel them tugging on you, pulling you in as if they were getting larger, closer, twin galaxies expanding to fill your whole vision - and then the Doctor had closed the space between you, and her lips were against yours and your hands were tangled in her hair and nothing else mattered. “Me too,” she whispered against your mouth. “I might need to make sure though,” you said. She didn’t answer, but you could feel her smile as you pressed tighter together. No longer alone, either of you. Breathe, you reminded yourself, as your heart raced and your blood sang and that terrible silence in you quieted, retreated in the face of such swelling, deafening joy. Oh, breathe.

[imagines-mha]

Happy Valentines Day, lovey! 💛 I hope this doesn’t seem weird since I just found your blog, but I do wanna say that I’ve read some of your works and 🥺🤚💛 there so well written?? s’cuse me?? your writing has been hiding from me, but now that I’ve found it I’m so glad I did <3 also, may I join your event?? I humbly ask for a Valentine’s Special please, for a male character from haikyuu?

I use feminine pronouns most often! I am 5’3” and have long dark ash-brown hair with a strange blonde streak in the back (origin unknown??), big blue eyes, and pale skin! I’m on the curvy side, too! My general look day to day is: hair pulled up into a messy bun, skinny jeans or dark sweatpants, a hoodie or a flannel, and some black vans tbh! I pretty much just wear whatever is comfy, or I look like I could vaguely fit into the aesthetic that is the show Supernatural, lol!!

Personality? To the MBTI I’m an ISFP-T. I’m also an Aries ( yet I’m not a stereotypical Aries! 😔😌 I can be v stubborn, but- ) Around people I first meet, I’m really shy, reserved, and really awkward since I’m thinking too much on how to make them like me or not to mess up a first impression. I’m really bad at holding irl convos? Like seriously bad, I don’t know how to keep the conversation going if it’s stuff like, “how are you?” Or “how’s your day?” etc etc. I hate small talk, it’s just vv uncomfy! Though once I do become friends with someone, they learn that I’m really empathetic and chill/laid-back! I’m often dubbed the “mom-friend” just because I like a lot of domestic things and I worry and care a lot for my friends! 😅 I am a hopeless romantic, yet strangely enough I don’t like watching romantic movies? Specifically rom-coms! I’d much rather watch horror!! I don’t get scared by that stuff easily ( yet I’m out here getting scared when I turn the corner and see someone that I thought wasn’t there- ). I also have a TON of patience, and it’s vv hard to get me worked up or angry, much less even annoyed. I bottle a lot of stuff in favor of caring and offering comfort to others, so sometimes I catch myself being a bit of a people pleaser 😬

Extra info about me: my favorite time of day is late at night, and I’m a hopeless romantic! I’m a huge foodie, and love to bake and cook, especially with other people (sometimes lol). My favorite things to do is to hang out with friends, draw/sketch, sing, listen to music, write, and etc! Though most of the time I wish I spent more nights outside, exploring with my friends, since I literally love late night adventures (it’s my ideal date, actually lol!). Specifically, late night drives blasting music! My love languages are Quality Time and Acts of Service, and on the lesser side is Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation. I get really insecure about myself sometimes, so hearing nice words helps :’) and despite being a hopeless romantic and severely touch-starved, I sometimes hate the idea of physical contact because I’m insecure about my body and I don’t want people to touch me 💀 I also value laughter a lot! It’s also really easy to fluster me so..👉👈😳😊

I’m so sorry this was so long 😳🤭 never meant for that to happen...❗️💛 thanks so much, lovey! Shyly puts myself on anon in embarrassment

Smh u so cute anon why u hiding on me 😫😫 thank u SO much u sound like a fuckin angel and ily shdbwjswhdne 😭💖💖💝💞

I ship you with: Daichi Sawamura!!

Oh my… bby i want you both to adopt me. Talk abt fuckin STABILITY.

You’re both hopeless romantic parent friends?? He would totally help you come out of your shell and you would help him chill tf out when he needs to i love it so fuckin MUCHHH

Valentines special

♡ The sweetest valentine ever??? Wtf???

♡ Makes you pancakes or smth you love in the morning

♡ Hes such a breakfast in bed dork you have no idea

♡ Probably massages you after he loves to just,,,touch you

♡ Makes you feel like you’re the shiniest diamond in the entire world

♡ Tells you how much he loves you at least 50 times all day

♡ You guys spend the first half of the day laying around in bed and the second half actually going OUT

♡ Snacks?? Coffee?? A playlist of your favourite songs??

♡ Get it READY cus hes taking his girl on a midnight drive around the entire town

♡ PLEASEEE its so cute 🥺

♡ You both just get your minds off the entire world and have fun just alone together eating and talking and singing

♡ Then go back and have the sweetest night ever

♡ Im jealous bb smh

requests are CLOSED!!

[taehyungsgrowl]

SFW Alphabet for Nate

I think I did it wrong last time bc I was waiting for people to send me letters when I was just supposed to go down the list. But I’m a dummy so disregard half of what I say.

i hope you guys like them and thank you virgo anon for the input w these 🥺i love our baby 🥺

Here we go:

A- Activity (What is their favorite activity to do with you.)

-- i think he likes doing new things w you. and i know that sounds cliche BUT hear me out. duncan is a bit of a home body 🥺loves to be curled up w reader sharing kissies and cuddling. nate enjoys that too but i think trying new adventures w you is his favorite. i can see him being the type to like hiking dates!! (also lets not forget the tik tok videos you guys make together )

B- Beginnings (How do they act in the beginning of a relationship)

-- considering the beginning did start off as something kinda casual between him and reader, he kept it as such. but he’s such a natural charmer that even when he’s not trying, he just comes across as super sweet. they’d finish hooking up and he’d offer her to stay over or get them food (not bc he felt like he needed to but it’s just the kinda guy he is) i think he probably let his goofy side out right at the beginning as well. its what helped y/n open up to him and feel at ease w him 🥺

C- Communication (Are they good communicators? How do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues)

-- big sigh. nate? was the KING of communication!! hell! he was able to talk to duncan (who ISNT the best at communicating) when they weren’t even friends and helped him talk to dumb!reader. plus he’d always been open about his feelings. told y/n right away when he knew he was in love. (i only say he WAS bc he should have told y/n he was struggling before he ended up in the hospital 🥺)

D- Drunk (What are they like when they’re drunk)

-- koala bear cuddly drunk!! not just between him and reader! but he will love on anyone! (omg.. you know dunc was a little 😳when drunk!bro!nate started hugging him... hiding his face in duncs neck... telling he smells good... telling him how much he loves him... bros 👯‍♂️)

E- Emergency (How are they in emergency situations? You get hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc..)

— oh god. nate is the type to keep cool and collected in an emergency - even if he were the one having an emergency 🥺 like if reader would’ve been w him during his car accident, she would have been worried sick over him and he’d just be like, “hey, look at me. i’m okay, yeah? a lot stronger than i look, babe.” even if it hurt like hell because he doesn’t wanna worry her. if you were in an emergency or got hurt, he’d go into sexy doctor mode. “tell me where it hurts.” squeezing your hand to reassure you, “i got you.” also kissies where it hurts 🥺 and he’s such a good listener too wow we have no choice but to simp.

F- Free Spot (I’ll give you any headcanon I come up with)

-- i’m just gonna share one head canon that virgo anon tossed at me that really made me 🥺 baby nate 🥺 and how when he was younger he was always a nice boy 🥺 but wasnt the popular or “hot” one until he grew into himself in college 🥺 when he got maxie and it helped him manage his stress enough to be able to make connections 🥺y’all when she said that it made me heart 🥺 my sweet boy

G- Gifts (What kind of gifts do they give? What kind of gifts do they get?)

-- i think his gifts are rarely “over the top” but !! they’re simple and personalized!!! like a lil necklace w his initials / name 🥺or maybe he has someone make a picture of you two into an animation? like have someone draw you guys (do u know what im talking about?) as far as gifts for him, he enjoys like “interactive gifts” like sending him on a lil scavenger hunt (nate loves setting them up for you too 🥺) but if you set one up for HIM? god! he’d love you!

H- Hugs (How do they show affection/cuddle)

-- nate loves! loves! to give forehead kissies (not just because he’s tall fjhsjh) and being hugged (or picked up) in his strong arms!! loves it!! he loves being the big spoon 🥺i love him. 

I- Irritation (What is something that irritates them? How do they show their irritation?)

-- that reader continues to choose duncan over him fkjsvsfkv he wears his heart on his sleeve so i think when nate is upset or irritated... you know. 

J- Jackpot (How would they spend their winnings if they won the lottery?)

-- does nate have more $ than the shepherds? debatable. but he isn’t as... flashy w his money as duncan is. he’s a little more down to earth if that makes sense. BUT thats besides the point. he’d probably donate a lot to a charity of his choice than take you on a little get away. maybe a cross country road trip 🥺 or off to an island getaway. he’s flexible. 

K- Kryptonite (What is their ultimate weakness?)

-- virgo anon made me 🥺when we were talking about this bc nate would do anything for the people he loves and 🥺that gets him hurt. especially when he feels like those people dont love him in the way he does them 🥺

L- Laughter (What makes them laugh?)

-- clown!! nate is the guy that always keeps you laughing 🥺and most times he cant even contain his own laughter omg i will cry im in love with one man

M- Morning ( How do they wake up in the morning? Are they a morning person or a morning grouch?)

-- he’s a morning person 🥺 likes to start off his morning with a run and protein shake SMH fitness KING. 

N- Needy (When do they feel particularly needy? How do they show it?)

-- he’s so used to being the one who’s needed 🥺 it takes him a while to be comfy being vulnerable and needy. idk if there’s anything in particular that sets him off to be like this - but i’d like to think it happens at random. like youre on the couch and he just nuzzles his face on your tummy for you to pet his hair. he demonstrates it by wanting to be close to you 🥺

O- Oasis (Where is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?)

-- i think he’d be the kinda guy that enjoys the sun (not just bc he looks hot, shirtless on a beach) but yes. somewhere nice and sunny where he could have maxie w him 🥺if he could stay on the beach where he started falling for dumb!reader (with her) for ever he would 🥺

P- Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle when you are in pain?)

-- emotional or physical? jfgksjdgsdk but no i think if he’s well regulated, he can handle pain well - it’s when he’s not that it’s a problem (w emotional pain) he stops taking care of himself the way he should and really spirals into his head a lot you know 🥺i think he can handle others being in pain better than himself bc he loves a lot and its easier to focus his attention on trying to fix things for them (like we said his biggest weakness is doing too much for those he loves)

Q- Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and your relationship)

-- “loving is easy” fjskfsf not to be too corny but 🥺being w nate was easy... always on the same page.. and made her feel good. 🥺

R- Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing you after a long time of being apart)

-- lots!!! of kissies!! picking you up!! holding you close!!! physical touch is pretty high on his love language list i think 🥺(i think quality time or acts of service might be his top two though) 

S- Stress (What stresses them out? How do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?)

-- i generally think duncan is more of a control freak than nate, but i do think to some extent, they’re similar that when things feel out of their control, it really stresses them out. i think it manifests at different times. i think for duncan its more trivial things whereas w nate, if he feels like he could be doing something to “fix” something and he cant do anything it freaks him out. hes a healer, you know. i think working out is a big stress reliever for him 🥺my strong baby!! that and goofing off w reader 🥺

T- Terror (What are they afraid of?)

-- this kinda ties into his weakness (and could be amplified by his younger years) but he’s afraid of not really being enough for those he loves. especially if he was teased as a kid 🥺maybe thats why in a lot of his nightmares the theme of abandonment appears a lot 🥺i made myself SAD 🥺

U- Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?)

-- i asked virgo anon for help on this one 🥺and i love her so much 🥺 nate tugs on his hair when he’s nervous 🥺 he gets a lil annoyed after he buzzes it off and doesnt have much to pull on 🥺he likes to hold hands when spooning. loves to sing along to disney movies (but lets be honest, he’s the real prince KING)

V- Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?)

-- well... idk if it’s fair to say he fights a lot because he tries not to resort to that - especially grad school nate. mostly because he knows he’s good at fighting. omfg... boxer!nate.... may have all my rights. and he doesn’t really wanna hurt anyone. BUT if needed!!! he will throw down. (ex. when dunc wouldnt let y/n leave the house. and then attacked him!! nate had to stand his ground 😌

W- Wow (What do you do that really surprises them? What do you do that they really like?)

-- idk i think nate was probably really surprised when reader gave him that second chance at friendship in the bathroom 🥺didnt think she would. on a lighter note, surprising him w fresh cooked meals always make him 🥺because... he’s trying but hasnt mastered the cooking thing yet.

X- (Explicit headcanon. For all you degenerates)

-- he’s uhh packing 😳and it hits all the right spots, you know 😳omfg and lets not forget the dickscussion we had about his head game being stronger than duncans 😌

Y- Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly that they can’t deal with it?)

-- i wasnt sure what really grossed out medical professionals (if anything djsfs) but we kinda head canon for him to be into family / pediatric medicine so anything w LOTS of blood loss probably freaks him out 

Z- ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits? Both with and without you)

-- my baby. nate has really bad night terrors especially on bad(tm) days. it usually helps to have someone w him to be able to keep him calm when he wakes up 🥺if its not y/n you can bet maxie will be there for tons of kissies. he’s a sleep talker 🥺and when sleeping w you he loves being big spoon 🥺and when he’s alone, he kinda sleeps curled up and w a lot of pillows. comfort KING

[theslythertrash]

So whenever I see superheroes I always freak out over small impractical costume things but I have never been angrier at show’s costumes than at bnha and this has been on my chest for several months now and it’s midnight and I’m half asleep so it’s the perfect time to write an essay about it on Tumblr. 

Here are my ranking for the bnha costumes for all of 1-A:

I’m fully prepared to be slammed for this. (Also I’m supposed to be an artist so if I ever find some free time I’ll actually draw my babies some proper costumes.)

Midoriya’s is 9.5/10.  It has an aesthetic, good color scheme and it compliments his quirk with iron soles and leg/arm enforcements. Has a nice belt, a mask for gas (hopefully) and facial protection. The only stupid thing is his bunny ears mask but it looks good when it’s down like a hood. My only correction would be to make his mask an actual hood. 

Bakugo is 8/10 Kacchan also has an aesthetic. His mask is a little ridiculous but I’m fond of it. He also has practical shoes and stuff. HIS GAUNTLET IS SO STUPID. HAS THE MANGA ARTIST EVER WORN LARGE BRACELETS? DOES HE KNOW HOW ANNOYING THEY ARE? YOU CANT WRITE. OR SCRATCH YOUR HAND. OR REACH INTO TIGHT SPACES. I know they’re for storing sweat but sweat is a liquid and if people can invent Aizawa’s magic scarf they can invent smaller gauntlets. Jesus. But his winter costume makes them smaller I think (idk I don’t read the manga but I’ve seen fanart) so 8/10.

Uraraka is 5/10  Uraraka has a cool aesthetic. I enjoy the space theme and colors. A helmet is good since she’s flying around (though I don’t understand why it doesn’t cover her entire head? Protect the back of your head! Also her mouth- that should help against gas and things but I also know she vomits a lot so it’s probably better without one). 

However, she’s sexualized too. Even outside of it being skin tight, she has a camel toe? Literally no one mentions it ever and it drives me crazyyyy. Look at her- why does she have that line there? Why? And why is her belt so bulky. How is she supposed to squeeze into tight spaces? AND ONCE AGAIN UNNECESSARY LARGE BRACELETS OH MY GOD. The manga explains her bulky heels and bracelets are to help with nausea but I refuse to believe they can’t invent smaller ones. And also boots without heels. Who is gonna run over debris on heels? 5/10

Iida is 7/10 He is too bulky. Why are they all so bulky.  He looks like when he walks down the street he clanks as he walks. Way to be stealthy dude, smh. 

Todoroki is fine I guess. Little boring but it’s passable. I wish it had more stuff for his quirk. Like maybe thermal fabric so he can cool down faster? Idk. 7.5/10

Tsuyu is a much bigger improvement over Uraraka. She’s got big ass bracelets again but they look like soft fabric so it’s probably easy to ignore. Her outfit has a wet suit aesthetic so that’s practical. Her goggles look a little bulky again but they are practical.  WHY IS SHE IN HEELS.  8/10

Mineta looks like he has a diaper kink and it’s not even there to help his quirk. -10/10

Kirishima. Baby. Put on a shirt. Also what the fuck are those gears. Why are you wearing bulky shit that’s unrelated to your quirk? How are you gonna lie down comfortably when you have large ass rings on your shoulders.  Why are you wearing a muzzle thing? How is that related to your quirk? If your gonna put something on your face wear something to protect your mouth from dust and gas.  His bottom half is fine ig. I’ve got mixed feels on his cape/skirt thing but at least it’s an aesthetic.  6/10

Don’t get me started on Yaoyorozu. God Almighty. Even outside of the perversion, why does she have a whole ass bookshelf on her butt instead of an iPad for easy access? And not only is it AN ENTIRE BOOKSHELF, its HORIZONTAL. Why do you have a horizontal ass shelf when it can be vertical at the very least? She needs tech with Siri so she can ask what chemicals are in stuff into an earpiece. And also some pants. And a bra.  -10/10

Idk what Tokoyami is doing. Being edgy I guess.  6/10 it’s fine.

Kaminari is fine I guess? He’s got the same problem as Tokoyami and Todoroki where it’s just an outfit and doesn’t actually help his quirk in any way.  He could include metal bits on his gloves so punches have an extra shock to them. Or maybe a rubber helmet or something to protect his brain from his own shocks...would that work? I’m not a scientist. Maybe carry around extra shock-resistant fabric in a belt or something so he can protect bystanders before releasing a full attack.  I REALLY like his added equipment for long-range attacks and I think he could go further with the idea- maybe add cords in the style of bows and arrows?  Basically very boring but fine ig. 7.5/10 (solely adding the .5 for his new equipment)

Aoyama looks like he has the same bulky and loud problem as Iida but it’s toned down and I’m low key very amused by it so it’s fine. 9/10 for my flamboyant boy.

Jirou looks like she is going to the mall. She has no aesthetic and looks super boring. I like that her outfit actually helps her quirk with her speaker boots but she should carry around some weapons too. And wear a padded suit for hits. Actually they all should have padding. Goggles and mask would be helpful too.  It’s fine I guess. Boring. 6.5/10

Okay, I’ve seen a lot of people complain that Ashido’s is really ugly. I’m actually amused by it so I don’t mind too much. The fur is ridiculous and the colors are loud but they are as loud as her personality so at least it has an aesthetic.  I’m more bothered that it’s impractical. It doesn’t help with her quirk. She should have gauntlets similar to Kacchan’s so she can store acid (don’t make them bulky though, please). Padding too. Her shoes can have an extra retractable surface for gliding on acid. It would also probably be helpful to carry around a similar blanket to the hypothetical one Kaminari would have so she can shield civilians from her acid.  It’s fine ig. At least she’s not sexualized. 7/10

Shoji looks like he has multiple nipples.  At least it’s kinda practical tho.  6/10

Ojiro looks like he was on his way from karate class when a cat died on his shoulder.  Once again he’s boring and doesn’t have anything interesting to compliment his quirk. He’s a good fighter so maybe he can also carry around a staff or nunchucks or something. He should pad his tail so the hits are extra hard.  Boring but passable if he removes the stupid fur. It looks like it’ll tickle his cheek when he runs.7/10

I actually really like Sero’s. It fits his aesthetics and is practical. His helmet and shoulders could be a tad less bulky but whatever. It would be cool if he had like suction cups on his shoes or something to make it easier to stick to walls but I imagine that would be hard to walk in so it’s fine.  8.5/10

Tooru is naked.  She has no costume.  She’s 15- that’s so gross. Also she’s probably constantly cold and extremely vulnerable. I can’t imagine all the scraps she gets just from running around. And her sensitive parts are exposed to disease- she’s going to get a yeast infection. And not to be gross on main or whatever but what does she do when she’s on her period? ALSO, how can she feel comfortable running around without a bra?  If Mirio can have a costume made of his hair so can Tooru. 0/10

Sato looks like a banana.  Very boring with no aesthetic but at least he has pockets to carry sugar in so that’s practical. Some padding would be nice.  6/10 boring

Why the fuck is Koda in shorts. He’s gonna get scraps on his knees. What is that ugly ass symbol on his chest? At least he’s practical with his mask to hide when he’s talking to animals. Personally, I think it’s ugly but at least it’s useful 6/10

Woo I'm done. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk/ midnight essay.  Winners: Deku, Kacchan, Sero, maybe Tsuyu. Maybe Aoyama.  Absolute losers: Mineta, Momo, Tooru, Uraraka.  Everyone else is varying levels of average

Also, I know I said I would only do 1-A but I have a special little place of hate in my heart for Aizawa’s costume so here’s my rant on him too:

JESUS CHRIST MAN CUT YOUR FUCKING HAIR YOU DINGUS. I know you're trying to have a hoboTM aesthetic and you have stubble and blah blah blah- I get it. We got it. (I lowkey think you’re hot) you wanna have dramatic hair. Noted.  But you're entire personality is about being practical and not wanting attention. That’s why you disliked All Might. Set an example for your kids PLEASE.  Why are you even bothering with goggles to hide when you blink WHEN YOUR HAIR IS A BIGGER TELL. I PROMISE I’M MORE LIKELY TO NOTICE YOUR HAIR DROP THAN YOUR EYES BLINKING YOU DUMB DUMB IDIOT. 

Either cut it, put it in a bun (best option imo) or get a hood. 

[billdenbrough]

hi i’ve had a headache all day (my fault for staying up until 5am smh) and am coming down with a cold (outrageous, fuck u winter) so i’m not sure how coherent this is but @trentadepresso was having a rough day which is a Crime™ bc andrea is an angel, and she really loves stenbrough, so i thought i’d try my hand at this to cheer her up a little? andrea, babes, i have v little experience/thought w them so i hope i do them justice for u!! i love u v much. also i’m mobile as per so like. apologies in advance for any typos

STENBROUGH + 30. you don’t see me

It’s a Thursday, so it should be a quiet night, but there are about twenty people crammed into various nooks and crannies of the dorm that Bill, Richie and Ben share.

There are three girls sitting in a circle on Mike’s bed, braiding each other’s hair as they listen to him tell a story about Bill, Richie and an ornery goat that has Bev in stitches across the carpet; she’s sitting with some of Richie’s classmates from his Calculus class (“Rich, you’re doing an Arts degree,” Bev had pointed out with a laugh when he’d first slapped his schedule down in front of them all, which he’d met with an unrepentant shrug) at the foot of Ben’s bed, half-watching Community on Ben’s laptop, half-listening to Mike’s story; Ben and Richie playing a very intense game of Charades, along with about ten other people, in front of Richie’s bed, where Eddie is seated, watching the chaos between his fingers, laughing helplessly at absolutely every ridiculous impression Richie does; and finally, where Stan’s eyes always are, Bill, lying down on the carpet, lazily sketching some of the tableau in front of them.

Stan, for that matter, is sitting on the windowsill by the head of Ben’s bed, perched in a way that allows him to survey it all. He’d been talking to some of the braiding girls before Mike had started telling his story, and has since escaped to his raised position. Despite what Richie might say when teasing him, Stan likes these sorts of kick-backs, likes seeing his friends have fun, likes engaging with their peers. He’s not the most sought-out ever (that would be Richie, Bill, or maybe Bev), but that’s hardly a concern of his; he likes having his odder sense of humour, likes having shorter interactions with people, likes having less demands for his time and energy. Richie gets energy from other people’s attention. The only attention that sends a zing through Stan is that of the people he cares about.

There’s a girl giggling—well, there’s several, it’s Richie, but this one stands out in her intentionality—over Richie’s antics at Charades, and Stan winces. He thinks her name’s Belinda—or maybe Bethany?—which would already be a no from him, given how many fucking B-names his friends have, but he’s very certain she’s out of luck. She’s attractive, he supposes, and he could see Richie being interested for a night, but, well. They’ve never talked about it, but Stan is Richie’s best friend. He’s always been aware of how Richie’s eyes travel to Eddie after every antic, always craving his reaction more than anyone else’s. 

Of course, that goes two ways. Like, Eddie glancing back, sure, but that’s not what Stan means. He means that he’s pretty sure Richie’s aware of the way Stan’s always on the look out for a crop of auburn hair half a head above everyone but Richie or Mike, the way his gaze always—inevitably—finds Bill in any room, the way something in his heart hurts when it’s late at night and Bill’s looking at him with that sleepy smile.

There’s a shout of triumph, and Stan glances over at the charades crew, which seems to have grown in number. Richie’s whooping, Ben’s laughing at him, and Mike and Bev have ended up over there too, on either side of Eddie, shouting “best of three!” Richie glances at Ben, who shrugs, making Richie beam. “All right! This time, though, Eds, you’re playing,” Richie announces, and Stan stifles a laugh at the expression on Eddie’s face.

“Wait, Rich—” Eddie’s saying, and then Mike says, “C’mon, Eddie, I’ll be with you guys too. Who’s going to get Richie’s impressions faster than you?” and the expression on Eddie’s face... kind of knocks the breath out of Stan. He dearly wants to talk to him and figure out exactly what Mike’s words did to Eddie’s understanding of it all, but Richie’s still smiling brightly at Eddie, all hopeful eyes, and just like always, Eddie sighs, and nods. “Yeah, okay, as long as Mikey’s with us,” he says, and Richie whoops.

“Guess that means I’m with you,” Bev says to Ben, who smiles back. “Guess so,” he says. “Bill, do you want to play?” he asks, turning to where his roommate is still lying on the floor. Stan, again, stifles a laugh at the expression on Richie’s face (“He is entirely too good of a friend sometimes,” Richie had grumbled to Stan once, “like he and Bill are close, and Bill and Bev are totally over what the fuck ever you wanna call what they had going on for literally like, two weeks, so it’s not like he needs to do it to be a good friend to Bill anyway, but holy shit, I wish he’d realise that Bev, like, wants to hang out with him for him. Like, love yourself, dude.”), before his eyebrows shoot up at what Bill’s doing.

Because Bill is standing, shaking his head, and completely abandoning the two people who were lying beside him, not so subtly trying to get him to sketch them. “Nah, I wanna show Stan some of these,” he says, which is... odd. Not that he wants to show him things—Stan knows, realistically, that he’s one of the most important people in Bill’s life, and that Bill values his opinion—but just the timing of it all.

Ben nods, asking one of the girls braiding hair if she wants to join their team instead, but Bev’s eyes stay on Bill. There’s something knowing in them that Stan’s not entirely sure what to do with.

“Hey, you been having fun?” Bill asks, leaning against the wall just to the left of the head of the bed. He’s close enough that Stan can feel every movement brush against him.

“Yeah,” Stan says agreeably. “I mean, probably not as much as them—” he leans his head towards a few of the audience members for the charades shenanigans who seem to be drinking beer, even though Stan didn’t see any boxes around, “—but it’s been fine. What about you?” He nudges Bill, inclining his head towards the sketchbook Bill’s got under his arm. “Any good scenes?”

Bill’s lips, in a grimace at the drinking students, twist into an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, I mean, kind of? Everyone’s having fun, and that’s, you know, soothing to draw.”

“Can I see?” Stan asks. He doesn’t usually ask. He’s the only one. He’s always been the most sensitive about the idea of Bill saying no. But. But Bill is warm and bright and next to him, and he said he wanted to show Stan some of them, and maybe Stan’s not foolish to believe it.

Bill glances at him in surprise. “You want—yeah, sure,” he says, and it sounds so easy in his mouth, even though it was accompanied with the kind of initial surprise that used to get him stuttering so hard that even their teachers referred to him by it. (That had always made Stanley angry, so angry; the idea that anyone could see Bill, with all of his bravery and determination and loyalty, his creativity and care and warmth, and think the thing that mattered most to define him was his fucking stutter.)

He pushes off from against the wall and tilts his head towards his now-empty bed, and Stan nods. He slips down from the windowsill onto Ben’s bed, gently closes Ben’s laptop mid-rant from Jeff Winger, and ends up sitting at the head of Bill’s bed while Bill drops himself into his desk chair. He passes Stan the sketchbook, and Stan opens it, drawing in a breath. The first one is of Richie, and it’s—fuck, it’s just beautiful. Richie’s always been so in motion that Stan would never have guessed he could see a paper page and feel like he could find his best friend in the lines on it, but Bill’s managed it. There’s something striking in the lines and slopes of Richie’s face, something frenetic in the feathering lines of his hands, something in the expression on his face that suggests of a laugh beginning to form. It’s bright and bold and fucking beautiful, and Stan was always sure Bill was talented, but he doesn’t have words for this.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and he’s vaguely aware of Bill’s eyes on his, the weight of his gaze, but he’s mostly losing himself in the sketches. He flicks to the next page, and it’s Bev and Ben. Stan always thinks of the way Ben looks at Bev, maybe because he’s a little closer to Bev than he is to Ben, but Bill drew it the other way around. Ben’s the star of the piece, with his burly arms and wide, sweet face, and Bev’s looking at him, and the expression on her face is so fond and amused and fierce and affectionate that it hurts, because it’s so her, but Stan prides himself on being observant, and if he didn’t notice this tonight, then Ben definitely didn’t. Maybe if he sees it here, rendered in such vivid detail that it’s impossible not to swallow as something true, it’ll hit him.

“She looks at him like Eddie looks at Richie,” Bill says with a quiet chuckle, and Stan’s heart stops in his chest. Because, yeah, Richie and Eddie feel very obvious to Stan, especially Richie at Eddie. But he can’t fathom how Bill could possibly notice Bev looking at Ben and Eddie looking at Richie and not notice Stan’s eyes following him through every room. He flicks more hurriedly through the pages, soaking them all in, and they’re beautiful, all so beautiful. Mike’s strong and tall and genuine, laughing quietly with three girls on Bill’s bed; Bev’s legs are tangled in Richie’s from earlier in the night, the two of them setting up Community; Eddie’s laughing so hard that he’s breathless, leaning on Ben for support, and—

Wait.

Stan glances back at it, brow furrowing. The background is half filled-in, and something in Stan’s stomach lurches, because he remembers this moment. He’d been right there, on the other side of Ben, looking at Eddie with amusement. But he’s not in the sketch.

He flicks to the next page. It’s Mike and Bev, sitting cross-legged on the floor, well before most people arrived, and Stan’s frown deepens, because he knows he was there, standing behind Bev, hands resting on her shoulders. They’re bare in the pictures. He flicks forward again. Richie talking to Mike. Stan feels like he and Eddie should be laughing in the background, but they’re not. He’s not.

He flicks forward again. There are more of the kick-back, all these people Stan knows only vaguely, and yet. None of Stan. This whole night is basically immortalised in this sketchbook, but there’s none of Stan or Bill. He... really doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Stan?” Bill’s voice breaks through. “What’s wrong?”

Stan doesn’t look up. He’s thinking this through in his mind, examining it from every possible angle. He ends up with one possible conclusion, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“You don’t see me,” he says carefully. His heart thuds, but his voice is level. He finally looks up.

Bill blinks. “W-what?” Clearly, it’s the last thing he expected Stan to say. Some distant part of Stan notes that the stutter is back.

“There are like twenty pictures here,” Stan says, and does his voice sound too rigid? Too taut? He’s trying for patient, or at the very least, not hurt. “All from tonight.”

Bill nods, brow furrowed.

“Bill,” Stan says patiently, wondering why he’s even pursuing this. Because he’s a constant disappointment to himself, probably. “There are like twenty pictures in here, and none of them are of me.”

Bill’s eyes widen, and his mouth pops open ever so slightly. It hurts to look at it. Because that’s what he’d look like when he kisses someone, Stan imagines, and that’s never felt like less of a possibility for him to experience than now.

“It’s whatever,” Stan says, “I mean, you’re under no obligation to. I just... was surprised, I guess.” Because we’re best friends. Aren’t we? Because even if your heart doesn’t skip a beat when I smile at you, we’re still friends, aren’t we?

Bill still looks a little taken aback, but something Stan said must have gotten under his skin, because he opens his mouth furiously, before being cut off by a whoop from Bev (“Suck on that, Tozier!”). He closes his mouth instead, and looks at Stan with such intensity that Stan feels off-kilter.

“Stan,” he says quietly, fiercely. “Stan, I see you. You’re like, the only thing I see.”

And now Stan’s mouth is slightly open, because he doesn’t know what to do with that. How to compute that, how to make it align with the facts of the universe as he knows it, with what he’s surmised from the sketchbooks.

Bill, apparently, didn’t mean to say all that, because his face shuts down for a moment, before it takes on a determined set. He slides back slightly from the edge of the bed and rifles through his desk drawers—god, they’re a fucking disaster area, Stan notes with a wince—before pulling out another sketchbook.

“Th-th-this is the one I had before,” he says, and there’s something so familiar about Bill in this moment, stuttering yet determined, that it twists something in Stan’s chest. He pushes it towards Stan, who opens it.

The first picture is of Richie again. But it’s Richie with Stan, and Richie’s laughing, joy in motion, and yet. The sketch is focused on Stan, with his wry smile and dancing eyes and the way his shoulder sits under the arm Richie slung around it. The next one is Eddie and Richie, and Stan’s in the background, but he’s got as much detail in his expression as Richie does, despite his face being a fifth of the size. Stan flicks through. They’re all like that. There’s a fair few without him, of course, but all of the ones that feature him, it feels like the pencils came a little more alive when resting on him. He looks up at Bill, open-mouthed.

“You’re just,” Bill says, before laughing shakily. “You were the only thing I could see. So I had to start drawing the space around you. To cope, you know.”

Stan’s heart is thudding. He’s genuinely, for the first time in his life, speechless. Which is saying something, given how long he’s known Richie Tozier.

Bill flicks the pages of the sketchbook from tonight to the very back, and there’s Stan’s face, staring back at him. He’s grinning to the side, amusement in his eyes, and every line of it is so fond, so carefully rendered, that Stan’s heart genuinely hurts.

“Bill,” Stan says, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying. That he gets it, maybe. That his eyes find Bill in every room. That he fell in love with everything Bill drew tonight, that to see the way Bill sees him blows him completely away.

“I didn’t mean to drop this all on you,” Bill says, running his hands through his hair. “I just. Couldn’t stand the idea of you thinking you didn’t matter.”

Stan’s hands snake out and capture Bill’s. Bill glances up at him, eyes wide. Behind them, Stan can hear Eddie shouting something about an octopus—Richie must be having his turn—but Stan wills away those noises.

“You’re the first person I look for in any room,” Stan says, and when Bill’s breath hitches, Stan squeezes his hand. “You’re always the first thing I see.”

Bill looks like he’s been struck by lightning. “God,” he breathes. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

Stan huffs. “Okay, no. Richie and Eddie are idiots. Ben too. We’re just... mildly moronic.”

“Mildly moronic?” Bill sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I mean, we sorted it out in one conversation,” Stan says, ignoring the way his stomach is fluttering. “They’re all going to need at least three. Mike’s the only one I trust.”

Bill really does laugh then, and he’s sliding his chair forward, and Stan’s breath hitches. “Mike’s the smartest one of us all,” he agrees, speaking into the small space between them.

“Richie is so fucking clever, and yet,” Stan murmurs into the space between, and is it getting smaller...?

“No braincells,” Bill sighs, and then he’s sighing it into Stan’s mouth, and Stan was so wrong earlier, when he thought he’d never see what it looked like for Bill Denbrough to look at him like he meant to kiss him.

(When they separate, Stan’s flushed and Bill’s ears are red. The noise is still coming from the charades crew—Bev’s the one acting it out now—but Richie catches Stan’s eye, waggling his eyebrows, but the beam on his face is sincere, and the thumbs up he gives Stan completely genuine. Stan rolls his eyes back, but can’t stop the smile spreading across his face, least of all when he meets Bill’s gaze again, and sees the giddy grin on the taller boy’s face.)