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just-here-for-the-moment · 4 years ago

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Claire...may I request a lil' writing? I'm thinking of Javi maybe post Columbia and he builds up a routine. He goes to the same coffee shop every morning on his way to work and of course picks up the same order. You're a barista at the coffee shop and eventually, you can pin down his arrival to the minute so one day, you make his drink for the exact moment when he gets there, with your number written on the cup cause screw it, he's damn hot. What would happen? <3

Oh Maia, this was FUN to write for you!!! I hope you enjoy it! :D

Exciting update!!! GIF and media genius @nicolethered made an amazing video for me to go with this fic!! Go give her big love!!

Second exciting update! I was challenged by @quica-quica-quica to play the POV game for this piece (where someone Asks you to rewrite a piece from a different character's POV). So now there is a companion piece to this from Javier's POV, called: "Coffee Shop Girl". Enjoy!

For Now

Word count: 3900+

Rating: explicit, 18+ only

Outline: Javier Peña x “You” (Austin coffee shop barista; cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: slow-burn; oral sex/F receiving; vaginal fingering; protected P/V sex; cigarette smoking

Ten days. It took ten days between the first arrival of the handsome stranger and you ending up in his bed. A new personal record for you, given how reserved you normally were. But it was nothing to be ashamed of, as long as you were careful. It was the 90s now after all, there was zero reason to have to keep your knees closed until marriage, as long as you used condoms and got tested regularly.

You liked the coffee shop well enough, situated on the southern end of downtown near the warehouses and a few clubs. It drew a full spectrum of Austinites: college kids closing out their club nights with breakfast tacos and pastries before going home to crash; early morning construction workers, employees from the big post office around the corner; and the usual boring lawyers and office staff who started streaming in around 7:30 every weekday morning. You could do the job well enough, even considering the odd hours: waking up early enough to open the doors at 5:30, serve the slow trickle of early morning customers with patience and ease until a co-worker joined at 7:00 for the morning rush. And the barista and food service parts of the job were physically but not mentally demanding. It was a job, and certainly less hassle than your bartending gig some weekends. At least here you only had to throw drunks out once a month.

And then one Tuesday in early June, at 7:47 a.m., he appeared. Tall, neatly groomed mustache, dark eyes, a sheaf of bangs swept to the side over his forehead. His navy blue blazer and tie said ‘accountant’ or maybe ‘state employee’ and his sideburns were just a little out of date. You pegged him at about 40, probably one of those men who visited the same barber their whole lives, not bothering to keep up with fashion trends as long as they looked neat and clean. When he reached to take his to-go cup of black coffee from you, you noticed that his ring finger was bare, and you liked that his fingernails were clean and trimmed. He offered you a nod in thanks, and you smiled at him a little more warmly than you had with your other customers so far. He held the door on his way out, pausing just a moment to let two women enter… and then he was gone, out into the bright sunlight and foot traffic and morning rush. You hoped you would see him again.

On Wednesday he came back again, a repeat of Tuesday except with a different tie, deep red today instead of navy. Black coffee to go, leather portfolio tucked under one arm, clean hands, eyes as dark as the coffee you handed him. This time rewarding you with a gruff and gravelly, “Thanks,” instead of just a nod. You relished the accidental brush of his fingers on yours as you handed the cup over, another flash of him imprinted on you, along with yesterday’s vision of him going golden as he stepped out into the morning sun. This time you watched him through the big glass window until he was out of sight, admiring his strong nose in profile, the curve of it perched over that mustache. Two extra seconds of handsomeness poured into your morning before you had to turn back to rinsing mugs and making change. You hoped that he’d come again on Thursday, making it three visits, a genuine pattern instead of a fluke.

On Thursday he reappeared, same time as the previous two days, waiting patiently in line behind two wake-and-bake potheads who were taking their sweet time staring up at the food menu. Today he was dark gray instead of navy, wearing a charcoal blazer and a sharp black tie. You waved him over with a smile, letting it melt all the way up to your eyes instead of flashing the tight, brief, closed-mouth thing you used on most customers.

“Black coffee, right?” You watched his face, taking in the dark eyes, the hair, the brief smile that made a surprise dimple appear in his cheek.

He nodded, “That’s right. Thank you.” He slid a rumpled bill across the counter. “Keep the change.”

You bit your lip as you turned away, preening at his thanks and seven whole words as if they were genuine praise. His voice was deep and rich, landing with a rumble in your own chest, like the remnants of thudding bass from a passing car. You poured the coffee and secured the lid, brain scrambling desperately for something clever to say. To make him come back, to talk to you more.

You turned and handed him the cup, and as he reached for it you again let your hand be in just the right spot to feel the brush of his fingers. Your eyes locked on one another, and for the briefest moment you forgot to let go of the cup. You wanted to swim in those brown eyes forever, get lost and let him drown you whole. He paused, and you thought you saw the briefest twitch of his mustache, a pinprick in his calm exterior before you drew your hand back. He inclined his head, a single nod, and then he turned to leave and your attention was swept back to the register and the next customers.

Friday he arrived “on time” and you met his eyes as soon as he opened the door. Today he was warm earth tones, a dark red shirt under a brown tweed blazer and no tie, a nod to casual Friday. You turned and prepared his coffee, tightening the lid and then holding it up to him across the room, smiling and tossing your chin up in a friendly greeting. He walked up and slid a few bills over the counter to you.

“Thanks.” He winked at you and something in your pelvis fluttered. “See you next week.”

You watched him go, stepping out again into a halo of golden sun, pulling a pair of aviator sunglasses from his pocket and putting them on before striding away. You suddenly felt lost, facing the many hours between now and Monday.

Your weekend passed in a blur of extra bartending shifts and catching up on sleep. You were forever napping at odd hours, trying to reconcile the slightly staggered rhythms of early morning coffee shop hours and late-night bartending. It wasn’t the hardest you’d ever worked or the worst schedule, but it wasn’t fun. At least, it hadn’t been fun until now. Now you had something to look forward to.

Monday morning you opened the shop and kept an eye on the clock. At 7:46 you poured black coffee into a to-go cup. Thirty seconds later, he appeared on the other side of the plate glass window, the navy suit and tie again, blowing out a long stream of cigarette smoke before dropping the butt and giving it a quick twist under his foot. He took off his amber-lensed aviators and tucked them into the pocket of his blazer, then pulled out his wallet. At 7:47 on the dot, he opened the door, met your eyes, and saw you holding up his coffee. And there went that smile again, the dimple, the wink.

You smiled as he approached the counter. “You psychic or something? Or am I just that predictable?”

“Both, maybe.” You grinned and wiggled your eyebrows.

He opened his wallet and passed a bill across the counter, larger than what was strictly necessary for a to-go coffee and a reasonable tip. “Great service, keep the change.”

You thanked him, giving him the full-watt smile and wishing him a good day as you opened and closed the register, putting the change into the tip jar. Thankfully there was no one else in line right now, so you could give his handsome figure your full attention as he left, watching how the navy blazer hugged his shoulders.

He went out the door, turned right like he always did, and then he turned his head and his eyes met yours through the glass. You should have felt embarrassed that he caught you staring, but you didn’t. Mostly because you realized that he had stopped to look back, too, which meant you weren’t the only one hoping for more. He nodded and lifted his cup in a gesture of thanks. Then he was gone.

Tuesday was the same, only with the charcoal blazer and the dark red tie this time. The wink, the flutter in your gut, the over-tipping. The glance across the counter as his fingers brushed yours around the cup. The aviators slung on as soon as he stepped out the door.

Wednesday, again, the navy suit and tie, another brush of the fingers, a smaller tip but a bigger smile, gracing you with that dimple again. Another gravelly, “Thank you,” that sounded warmer than he had to date. The handsome profile and a quick meeting of the eyes through the glass as he left again.

Thursday was the same, only better. You used a permanent marker to write something on his paper cup before you poured it precisely at 7:46 a.m., watching, waiting. He did not disappoint. At 7:47, precisely on time, you caught a glimpse of his profile as he came into view through the plate glass window. Charcoal again. He turned and saw you inside, then opened the door, holding it again for a woman exiting. You pointed at his to-go cup on the counter and smiled.

“You trying to get rid of me? In and out so quickly?” He smiled and twitched an eyebrow at you.

You smiled back, “Depends on how long you were planning to stay. We close at 1:00 a.m. after open mic tonight. After that you gotta go somewhere else.”

The handsome man chuckled and pursed his lips. “And what time do you get off, after the morning shift?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” You winked and immediately regretted it, it felt too bold, it wasn’t your normal mode.

He met your eyes and said simply, “I am.”

You felt your face split into a wide smile. “I finish at 1:00, after the lunch rush.”

He nodded. “Good to know. I’m Javier, by the way.” He stuck his hand out and shook yours. You gave him your name and a warm shake of the hand.

He fished a few bills out of his wallet. “Can I maybe stop by after your shift, take you to lunch sometime?”

“You can do me one better than that.” You rotated the paper cup so that the writing was facing him. “My phone number’s on the cup.”

His eyebrows popped up, and then he gave you an appraising glance, like he was impressed. You saw his tongue shift up under his lip to suck a tooth and you suddenly wanted nothing more than to see how that tongue felt on you. You flushed hot, tingling with desire.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You do that for all your customers?”

“Just the best tippers.” You winked at him and laughed.

He stuck his hand out once more and you gave him yours. He lifted it and kissed the back of your hand, mustache sweeping ever so briefly over your knuckles before he gently released it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” his voice was low and something in it went straight to your groin, making your pelvic muscles clench. You watched him pick up the cup and go, smiling at you with that dimple through the glass as he left. You stood for just a moment, hoping, hoping, hoping. Maybe he would call you after work?

At 1:00 you finished your shift and handed the register off to Mike. You were just untying your apron and hanging it up when you saw a familiar profile sweep into view outside the window. Javier. Your stomach flipped over and a million little butterflies flew out.

He ducked inside the door and searched the shop for a moment, smiling when he saw you coming out from behind the counter with your bag slung over your shoulder.

“Hey,” you stood for a moment and hesitated, suddenly shy.

Javier slipped his sunglasses off and tucked them into his pocket. “Hey, I’m glad I caught you. Are you busy, or can I take you to lunch today?”

“No, I’m not busy. I’d love to go.” You smiled. “There’s a sandwich place around the corner, and a park we can go sit in.”

He smiled, wider than you’d seen him do so far. “That’s perfect.”

He let you lead, walking him across the street and around the corner to the sub shop. You made small-talk on the way there, finding out that he was from Laredo but new to Austin, a former DEA agent consulting for the state. You picked up your food and walked a block over to the small city park, where you told him about your roommates, your cat, your wish to go back to school and finish your degree. By the end of lunch you were both smiling, feeling that spark, the little magnetic pull that had started over his coffee orders. At 2:00 Javier said he had to get back to his office.

“... but I’d really like to see you again. Can I take you to dinner? Tonight if that’s okay, since you’re working tomorrow night.” He stood close to you, looking warmly into your eyes.

“Yeah, that would be great.” You felt that flutter again, that twitch of interest from looking into his warm brown eyes, seeing the way they crinkled when he smiled. You were so busy looking at his eyes that you didn’t see him reach his hand out, sweeping it around to circle your shoulders and pull you in for a kiss. You kissed him back, as urgently as was proper for the time of day and the public setting. When he pulled away to walk back up the few blocks to his office, you stood there dazed. Wow.

You went home and napped, then showered and changed into datewear. Javier picked you up at 7:30, and you were relieved that the little spark was still there. You had half-worried that it would wear off in the few hours between your lunch date and now, or that it was a localized feeling limited to a small radius around the coffee shop. But dinner was fun and warm, and by the end of dessert and coffee you didn’t want to leave him yet. You decided that you would be bolder than you normally were.

“Listen, my roommates are home, but do you want to go back to your place?”

Javier looked surprised for only a moment and then smiled, “Yes, let’s go.”

You kissed all the way back to the car, ran your hands lightly over the back of Javier’s neck as he drove, kissed all the way from the car to his apartment door, and tumbled inside together, feeling for buttons and zippers and helping each other out of your clothes. His erection felt warm and solid against your hip, and when he finally got naked you were nearly moaning at the expanse of his broad shoulders and golden skin. He was beautiful.

Javier walked you backwards to the bedroom and paused only to pull a wrapped condom out of a drawer and turn on the bedside lamp to chase away the dark. You lay back and watched him as he tossed the foil packet onto the quilt next to you and then knelt beside your legs. He looked at you as he ran his hands up and down your naked thighs. Then he butterflied your legs slowly apart and ran one warm hand up to your pussy, teasing you with his fingers, dipping them in and out between your labia and running them up to tickle your clit.

“Can I eat you out?” He asked almost shyly.

You nodded, a breathy “Yeah,” issuing from your lips. Javier dove down and licked into you with a rush. You gasped and threw your head back, clawing your fingers down into the blankets. Javier worked you open on three fingers and used the tip of his stiffened tongue to flick your clit rapidly from side to side while his fingers slipped slowly in and out. You moaned and fought the urge to close your legs while he curled and stroked inside of you, finding the spots you could never quite reach yourself. Within a few minutes you were cresting the wave of release.

“Oh God, I’m gonna come! Keep- keep going,” you gasped, “Just like that!” Javier kept his pace steady, working you along as you huffed and breathed faster. He curled his fingers just right and you sped off the edge into oblivion, gulping and grunting and making noises that were almost embarrassing, that didn’t sound like you, but you felt too good to even care. Javier stopped licking and slowed his fingers as you clenched around him, using the broad flat of his tongue to swipe a long, comforting stripe up the outside of your labia. When you were finished coming, he pulled his fingers out slowly and sat up on his haunches, smiling like a prizewinner.

He wiped one broad, flat hand down his mouth and chin, and then crawled up the bed to lay next to you, stroking you from hip to breast with his thick fingers. “Was that okay, cariño?”

You groaned out a chuckle, “Oh yeah, that was good.” You rolled onto your side to face him, and drew him in for a deep kiss. You loved the mix of how he smelled and tasted, your own salty musk blending with his spicy cologne and the smoky phantoms of cigarettes past and his after-dinner coffee. As you kissed, his hand came up to stroke a trail of goosebumps on your shoulder, and you reached yours down to stroke his cock to attention. The heft of him was thick and warm in your hand, and within seconds he was hard and throbbing. You ran the pad of your thumb up the bottom of his head and over his slit gently, and you giggled as he shuddered and reached down to pull your hand away.

“You keep going like that and I’m not going to last long.” His thick fingers wrapped around yours, and he pulled your hand up to place a long kiss to the inside of your wrist, blowing warm air out through his nose, the feel of it on your skin sending a thrill up your spine. He reached for the condom and opened it, rolling it down his proud length. He put his hand down and stroked your thigh before hooking one hand behind your knee to pull your leg up and over his hip. He held himself so that his tip was buried just at your entrance, then he thrust up and into you in one swift motion. You inhaled sharply and hooked your leg tighter around him, letting him set the pace. He nudged your jaw, nosing up into the crook of your neck and kissing you from ear to chin and back again.

His hot words sent chills down your neck and your nipples stiffened into sensitive buds. “Baby, you feel so fucking good, so hot and wet. Fuck, you’re amazing.”

You kissed him and shushed him, then you pressed an open palm to his chest, “Wait. Roll over. I wanna get on top.”

Javier grinned in the dim light of his bedroom, then he wrapped his big hand around your lower back and pulled you over with him. You shifted and settled into place, and the feeling of being speared on him, of his cock hitting deep inside, of his coarse curls rubbing against your clit was almost to the point of overstimulation. You whined and fell face down into the crook of his neck, smelling his warm spiced fragrance and going limp at the ‘too much’ of it all. He planted his feet flat on the bed and kept his arms wrapped around you, thrusting up, up, up into you over and over. He made the most delicious noises, sounds that might have been words or not, but which conveyed all of his pleasure in little grunts and groans.

You decided you wanted to watch his face, so you sat back up and braced yourself on your knees, rolling your hips in rhythm with his and helping him chase his high.

“God, you look so fucking good on my cock, cariño. So beautiful.” He started to turn glossy with sweat, tiny golden beads reflecting the single lamp beside the bed and making him look surreal. You followed a drip of sweat as it appeared on his neck and then ran down to pool in the hollow at the base of his throat. You tipped forward once more to lick at it, to taste the salt and the smoke of him and nip one tiny bite into his neck before moving up to lick and nibble at his earlobe.

Javier suddenly tensed his legs, giving one big thrust and then hissing out a “Fffff-” between his lips as he came. He thrust again and then stilled, relaxing back into the bed, but keeping you close against him. You let him hold you, your breaths slowing together until you were back, calm again, heartbeats back to center. He released you and held the base of the condom as you lifted off and rolled onto your back. He went to the bathroom, and you heard him run water before he returned with a wrung-out washcloth. He offered it to you, and you declined with a weak wave. He turned and tossed it into the bathroom sink and then motioned for you to scoot off the bed so he could turn the covers down.

He picked up a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, gesturing at you with a raised eyebrow. You put a hand up, “Not a whole one, but I’ll take a drag off yours if that’s ok.”

“Sure thing.” He lit one and passed it to you, and you took a deep drag before handing it back.

“Thanks.” You blew the smoke out in a blue stream.

He crawled into bed and patted the mattress next to him. “Stay,” he looked at you with a smile. “If you want to.” He parked the cigarette back between his plush lips.

You smiled warmly and crawled in next to him. “Okay, just for a little while.” You checked the digital clock beside the bed. “I gotta go home and change, and then get to the coffee shop at 5:00. Can you set the alarm for 4:00?”

He nodded and picked up the clock, pressed a few buttons and slid a switch into place. Then he raised his arm and settled it around your shoulders, and turned off the lamp. You watched the cherry of his cigarette glow and then turn faint, bobbing in the dark as he moved to flick ash into the ashtray on the nightstand.

He murmured low, into the quiet room, “You know, I’m only here for the summer. The consulting job ends in August.” He paused to take the final pull of his cigarette, then stubbed it out in the ashtray. “After that, I gotta go back to D.C.”

You yawned and nodded. “No problem. We can have fun this summer. I’ll take you to Barton Springs and Mount Bonnell, give you the real Austin tour. We can just have fun for now.”

He kissed your forehead, moving down your nose to land soft kisses on your lips. “Okay, summer girl. I’m all yours… for now.”

---

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#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories

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dokifluffs · 5 years ago

Text

Injured | Ushijima Wakatoshi

Pariring: Ushijima X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fluffyyyy 🤧

Request: “Ushijima s/o taking care of him because he’s injured” - anonnie

Author’s Note: you got it, homie 🤧 Thank you for requesting and happy reading!! <3 I may have gotten a lil too carried away with this imagine 😗😗

It started when one day, you had to pick up Ushi from his practice about half an hour earlier than it was supposed to end

When you picked him up, he came out with crutches, his left foot bare but wrapped. Kageyama aided him and held the doors open for him, helping him into the passenger seat of your car

“Are you okay?” You asked as soon as he shut the door, the two of you waving Kageyama goodbye as he jogged back to practice

Fortunately, since it was the off season, practice wasn’t too long or as intense. Games were more spaced out than the games during the season, where games then were played more often

“Yeah,” he sighed dejectedly. You could see he was a little bummed out. It wasn’t the first time he had sprained his ankle- this was actually the second time but it happened again on the same ankle

“How’d it happen?” You refrained yourself from adding “this time” at the end. The first time, he rolled it and the doctor said it was a low grade one sprain but to make sure to stretch and be mindful while playing

“We were scrimmaging against each other and Romero got bumped into while blocking, so he handed on my ankle. It didn’t hurt too bad but it’s swelling a bit more than last time.” He looked at his foot as you drove through the city

Instead of going straight back home, Ushi had called his doctor before you picked him up so that’s where the two of you went to first

The day was cloudy, not too sunny but not too gloomy

Arriving there, you helped him out of the car and walked beside him as he walked with his crutches. The office was pretty empty so the wait was practically nonexistent

“You were very lucky this time, Ushijima-san. If the injury had been more severe, there could have been some permanent damage,” the doctor had said after running his physical tests and x-ray

You felt just the slightest bit of Ushi’s hand squeeze yours, his skin rough and warm from practice and years of playing. You couldn’t imagine what it felt like for him, the feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff and any further, he would’ve fallen: his volleyball career would have been over as soon as it started

Any permanent damage to his ligaments would have made his ankle weaker

But it wasn’t permanent. You heeded the doctor’s words carefully: let him rest, ice it for fifteen to twenty minutes every two to three hours, wrap it, elevate it

Again, this wasn’t your first time helping him out when he was injured but last time, it wasn’t as bad as this time. Last time, he was able to walk without applying too much weight that would cause him pain

The drive home from the doctor’s was calm. If Ushijima was feeling anything, you couldn’t read it on his face or the aura around him

“How was your day?” He asked, catching you off guard as you entered the neighborhood

“Oh, it was fine. I was doing a bit of work to get ahead and then I picked you up and here we are.” You worked from home, managing your own personal business as it steadily grew, especially overseas

Arriving home, you helped him out of the car and then held the front door for him. It was bright with a calming ambiance coming from the pale sunlight that shined through the tall windows, the light bouncing off the white walls

“I’m going to take a shower before resting,” he stated as he approached the stairs

You nodded as you dropped off your belongings on the kitchen counter but watched from behind him as he went up the stairs with his crutches, just in case anything were to happen

As soon as he was safely upstairs, you returned to the kitchen and prepared dinner. Music played all throughout the spacious room as you cooked away. You prepared a special hayashi rice for him knowing how much he liked it and maybe, this would raise his spirits a bit more

Though you didn’t even know if he was disheartened or not. Ushi was strong. He has been and always will be. You know this. He’ll rise to the world stage with his team and blow away any opponent he would face. You believed in him

When he came back down, he wore a simple, slightly baggy white shirt and black shorts, his hair just a bit damp but fresh with the shampoo he used

He came into the kitchen, the savory aroma scent of the hashed beef that you made, now dished in front of him as he sat down

The two of you peacefully ate dinner while the walls and lighting changed all around the room as the sun set over the horizon outside. It was quiet, filled with the sounds of the two of you eating, silverware to the dishes

You were actually stumped, not knowing what to talk about. The two of you had been together for years but it felt like the beginning when the two of you were first talking- but the thing was, the two of you at that phase didn’t know what to talk about

“Dinner is delicious, Y/N, thank you for making it.” He spoke, giving you a small smile

“Of course,” you said, bringing a bite of rice to your mouth. “I’ll prepare an ice bag after dinner,” you said, to which he nodded and that was basically all the two of you talked about for the rest of dinner

It felt weird

After dinner, he made his way to the living room, sitting on one of the lounge couches. Only a few slivers of light were shining as much as they could in the distance. You gathered the dishes into the sink but grabbed a bag, filling it with ice

Bringing it and a towel. When you approached him, he brought his leg up, setting it on a pillow

He tried to reach for the bag only for you to step away. “Let me,” you smiled. He sat back and relaxed as you placed the ice bag over the towel, draping both over his leg

“Talk to me, Ushi. You’ve been quiet..” you sat beside him on the edge of the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well..” he took your hands into his. His fingers rubbed across the palm of your hands every now and then as he gathered his words

“I was actually scared..” he admitted, taking you aback. “The thought of knowing how fast everything could’ve ended if it was worse”

Your hands closed around his hands, your thumbs rubbing over his knuckles continuously as you listened

His hands were far bigger than yours, stronger than you could ever know but to him, you were able to make him feel small despite you being up to his neck

The two of you spent the rest of the night just talking in the living room. One conversation let to another, your touch never leaving him

In bed, you made sure to be cautious with your movements, not accidentally kicking his leg

For the first time in a while, the two of you stayed up “late” which was really just an hour later, continuously talking

There was no need for him to be up and early for the next two weeks

It felt like you were falling for him all over again, it felt nostalgic

Sleeping, he laid on his back with a pillow beneath his leg as you slept beside him, your arm resting over his chest, close to his side

For the rest week, everyday was the same for the two of you. You prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner

You made sure he rested as much as he could but he couldn’t keep still the entire time. He lifted weights and worked with his upper body strength to make sure he would be able to come back stronger than ever

He played calm nature sounds over a speaker as he worked out, though you preferred music, but he preferred natural life

About a week passed and things were going smoothly

But tonight, the Adlers were playing a match against a team from the states and Ushi wouldn’t be there tonight

The two of you sat together on the couch in the dimmed living room after dinner, watching some tv before the game would go on live

You usually watched their games, sure to cheer him and his team on whenever you could but it felt different now that he was right beside you

The game went on and it was intense. The score was constantly neck and neck until the last bits where the Adlers were able to successfully pull ahead

Ushi’s sub wasn’t as strong as he was when he swung but he had a nasty cut, making the other team struggle with getting the ball back up to Kageyama

He made some commentary every now and then about what could’ve been done instead. Some plays even surprised him

He had seen games throughout high school and maybe a few Adlers’ games but the recordings were specific to only him to analyze his plays

But seeing the broadcasts were entirely different

Just as his eyes were settled on one angle, the camera switched

The Adlers were able to win in a 4-1 match

To you, it felt like after watching this match with him, it was like something changed. The usual times he worked out got a bit longer

He asked you to make some changes to his diet, which you complied and you even found him on the call with his doctor about things he could do to strengthen his ankle in a secure way that won’t damage it further while you were working in your office

Around the third week, he began to do some light stretches just to be safe for now and opted to use a single crutch more than two crutches

Whenever you were around Ushi after a game or even before, there were different distinct auras he would project as he drew himself to the game and his opponents

He was so passionate about the sport, you admired him for it

But the aura you felt as he stretched, worked out, the way his arm would snake around your waist a lot more often than when he would be playing everyday

To be honest, you really loved that he was home. Since you worked from home, you were pretty alone except for the days he came back from his practices, games, tournaments, and his rest days

It felt nice that you could take care of him and see him so often everyday. To wake up beside him and to still feel his touch against your skin and body when you woke up

Rolling into the fourth week, he began to stretch regularly. He was slowly able to walk but was careful about how much weight he was putting onto his leg

To return the favor, while you went out to get a couple things before you could really start dinner

He did the best that he could and in his mind, he planned to make a couple of dishes he knew how to- basic ones he’s seen you to so many times

Stepping through the door with a couple of bags in hand, a smile instantly spread across your lips as you watched Ushi standing still in front of the stove, wooden spatula in hand as he did his best to make the first dish

You set the bags on the counter, which he didn’t hear over the sound of the stove

You wrapped your arms around his back, burying your face into his toned back, how nice it felt to feel how warm his body was through the fabric of his shirt

Your hands rested on his chest as you took him in, enjoying every bit of the moment, even if he was slowly burning food

When the smell got a little too intense, you took over though there was no saving what he did but it was okay

“I just wanted to help out as a way of thanking you for taking care of me so much, Y/N,” his voice low in your ear, you could practically hear the rumble in with every word

He rested his hands around your waist with your back to his chest, holding you every so lightly in his arms but not tight enough to restrict you

He stayed beside you the entire time you made dinner, helping you out in any way he could, doing as you instructed

You didn’t know if it was just because of the moment the two of you were able to share but dinner tasted better than normal. Instead of sitting across from him, you sat beside him

He occasionally fed you bits of the dishes the two of you prepared and made together even though he was never really one to do this kind of stuff

It was a very sweet gesture though

Going into the sixth week, you drove him to his doctors once more for a check up. He didn’t need crutches to walk and it was a bearable to apply his weight onto his leg

“It seems like your sprain is almost fully recovered. To be safe, I recommend you continue your stretches but don’t jump right back into playing just yet for the best results,@ the doctor said while inspecting the new x-ray

Although he didn’t say it, you could feel just how eager he was to get back into gears, to play with his team again

He did the most he could to build strength in his legs and body but just enough to not over do it

Before you knew it, you were suddenly standing on the sidelines with a special pass at his first game back, the stadium filled and cheering loudly as the announcer announced his official return after a roughly six week rest

You wore one of his jerseys proudly and cheered him on from the sidelines

He was back stronger than ever and you knew this was going to be another win for the Adlers

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (send me an ask if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years ago

Note

Spooky prompt with Norman x Sammy

Summary: After getting accidentally locked in the studio after-hours, Norman and Sammy feel less alone than they should of...

Closing prompt requests for now! Got something else I want to focus on for a while that I'm hoping you lot may enjoy.

---

[[MORE]]

It was a bit of an inevitability that one day this scenario came to play, being locked in for the night after Wally mistakingly assumed all personal had vacated the premises. What was unexpected was that it happened to two people on the very same night...

The people in question however? What with Sammy's new habit of isolating himself in a secret and tightly locked corner he'd claimed for himself, and Norman's proficiency in getting inside nooks and crannies no one else thought a nearly 7 foot tall man could fit? Definitely the sort to escape the janitor's notice and end up in this conundrum... Especially considering they'd clocked out many hours prior to Wally cleaning up and setting off for the night. If anything, they deserved it for being exceptionally sneaky.

"Fantastic..." The blond composer groaned as he watched the much taller projectionist give up on trying to fiddle with the lock. Cheapskate as Joey was, Mr. Drew seemed to at least invest in some very tight security. Likely a courtesy of GENT when the studio's partnership with the company arose. "Just what I needed, to be kept from my bed another night because Franks decided to go home early."

"N'aw. I reckon it ain't that early... When I was comin' upstairs the clock read 'bout 2:50..." He tapped his chin in thought and snapped the pin of his cravat back into place, no longer needing it to act as a makeshift lockpick. "Must be witchin' hour just 'bout now. Takes these old bones o' mine a while to get up here all quick-like..."

"3AM? Already?!" Sammy worried his lower lip as he realized how sidetracked he'd become. He should get a clock into his sanctuary at some point to avoid something like this in the near future. "Abigail is going to kill me... She must have waited all night..."

"Yous could always just call the landline an' say yous as busy as a one-legged cat in a sandbox." Norman offered with a smile that was bordering on the mischievous "In kinder words no doubt."

"She'd spit fire over the phone if I woke her up at 3 in the morning." He grimaced as he rejected such an idea. "The one thing she inherited from her mother is the capacity to transform into a fire-spitting drake if you wake her up at an ungodly hour..."

At such a notion Norman couldn't help grin and guffaw at the sight of Samuel Lawrence in all his peacock-like might, cowering away from a positively irate 18 year old girl with his tail between his shaking legs.

"Well, slap my head and call me silly! Yous still got your funny bone somewhere in that pile of highfalutin' grouchiness." The Louisianan's smile only grew as Sammy glares up at him. "Hey now, don't yous go lookin' so sour. It's good that yous is still yourself... Even after..."

"I'd rather not talk about that, thank you very much!" The musician knew exactly what Norman was referring to and he cut the topic short immediately. "Lets focus on the fact we're both trapped for the night. I don't know about you but I, for one, am starving and exhausted."

The projectionist nodded, conceding to the fact they should head to the breakroom and see if anyone had forgotten their packed lunch, or if maybe Lottie had left some non-perishables in the cabinets next to the stove. Like canned beans or maybe even canned fruit.

"I'm so hungry my belly thinks my throat's been cut... Tell yous what, if we gots the ingredients I could make us my Nanna's go to dish for when we was lil' tots growin' up." An easy enough meal that was effortless to make, and gave him enough time to see if Grant still had those blankets in his office while his companion ate

"And what's that?" Sammy asked, eyebrow raising.

"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich." Norman winked, which earned him a groan. "N'aw don't you go dissin' my poor Nanna's cookin' she was a skilled lady, but we was several youngins! And we was growin' bigger every day."

"I'll say... You're as large as a breeding bull." With better taste in clothes, albeit often overdressed for the occasion.

"You askin' for a ride, cowboy?" The mischief returned to Norman's grin as he noted Sammy's unusual fondness for boots rather than dress shoes. A more practical choice in his humble opinion.

"Buy me dinner, you pig." The blond dismissed, albeit unable to keep a smile off his face. "A man of my caliber deserves proper servicing, wouldn't you agree?"

Before the conversation could get any bit lewder, a noise downstairs halted their banter altogether. The two instinctively turned their heads towards the stairs, twin expressions of concern as they assessed what they had both just heard. It had sounded like clattering, down in Dr. Hackenbush's tiny little infermary.

"You hear that?" An unnecessary question, as Sammy knew for a fact Norman had. Still it felt better to acknowledge it aloud.

"Somethin' yes... Probably them lousy paper-thin pipes again... I don't know where Mr. Connor is gettin' the metal for 'em but I have half a mind t' tell him off for gettin' such shoddy materials." He looked unnerved more so than curious. Maybe a little irritable as the noisy pipework distracted him just as much as it did Sammy.

"You'd think they were made of flimsy tin...Either way let's uh, let's go eat down in the breakroom." The blond shook his head and began making his way to the stairs. If there was anything in Hackenbush's workspace it's not like it could get to them. The damn thing had been locked for a while, until the Doctor's services were needed. Something about preventing people from stealing his sedatives or whatever.

He was probably worked up over a raccoon either way. The dang things kept getting in through the ventilation. Just the other day Wally had fought one over a donut of all things...And lost.

"Yeah..." The towering projectionist followed, quieter now. Pensive. "Might as well fill our bellies an' get some shut-eye... Tomorrow if we is lucky, Drew might let us go home an' shower."

"Maybe..." Sammy nodded. As reasonable as it was that a raccoon was the likely cause of the strange noise, he couldn't help feel like it might be something more sinister. He was sure Norman felt the same too, as neither were strangers to Joey's... Less than savoury dealings with criminals and charlatans. But the thoughts of a bit of sleep and a shower in the morning were much more interesting and inviting thoughts than to worry about his paranoia. "Maybe not."

"We'll see, now won't we?"

"Guess we will."

That night the pipes sounded louder somehow. It felt like they were calling to them even... Whether or not Norman heard the calls was debatable, as the man was harder to read than a Russian dictionary, but Sammy swore up and down that he could hear his name in the flow... It spooked him terribly.

Never again, he thought, would he let himself sleep over-night in this damnable studio. He already wasted enough time in there after all. Living in it was nowhere in his future. Even if it meant he could spend an entire night or two shooting the breeze with a man that both infuriated him and made his heart go soft.

#eps writes:#bendy and the ink machine #batim #sammy lawrence #norman polk

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youve-cath-to-be-kitten-me · 6 years ago

Note

Okay so super fluffy feysand prompt. Feyre is trying to teach her 1 year old son how to spread his tiny little wings. But the lil guy takes her teaching gestures as cues to cuddle. Not that Feyre is complaining about her baby crawling in her lap for hugs and kisses every two minutes. Although She is 1% fake annoyed at her mate who is just lounging on the couch laughing and offering no help.

Thank you for the prompt, Nonnie! I made their child a daughter if that’s alright :) I wanted to put a little Throne of Glass cameo in there and it fit best. I hope you enjoy! ❤️

“Come on, love, over here,” Feyre coos for the fifth time, reaching towards her daughter, who is standing on her father’s desk with a thumb in her mouth.

“Go on, Deanna, put your mother out of her misery,” drawls Rhysand from his place on the couch, “She’s just trying to prove a point to your Uncle Cassian that you’ll be better at flying than Hellas.”

“Like you want Cassian to be able to hold it over our heads that his son flew first for all eternity,” Feyre snaps over her shoulder before turning back to her daughter with a sweet smile.

“You want to be better than your cousin, right? You want to give mommy bragging rights, don’t you?”

The baby only babbles in response, leaping off the table, wings still folded, into Feyre’s lap, taking handfuls of fabric in her chubby hands.

“No, darling, like this,” Feyre carefully eases Deanna’s wings open, but the girl only fusses for a moment and refolds them with a snap.

“Finally, you’re able to sympathize with Azriel. Just wait till I tell him, he’ll be thrilled.”

Feyre ignores her mate, and pries her daughter’s hands from the folds of her dress, presses a kiss to her forehead. She tosses her daughter into the air, watching as the Deanna’s wings snap open each time she’s airborne, only to fold closed again when she returns to her mother’s arms.

“See? Just like that, sweetheart. Now try that and jump from here.”

With that, she places her daughter into Rhysand’s lap, knocking the book he was pretending to read from his hands. Her mate only smirks and chokes back laughter as she sits cross-legged on the floor, cooing encouragements at Deanna, holding her arms out to catch her. Her daughter only repeats her dive from before, her tangled brown hair falling into her face. Deanna shrieks with delight and latches herself around Feyre’s neck, pressing her forehead to her mother’s cheek.

Rhys forgets any pretense of holding back laughter, practically shaking with it as he falls back against the pillows. Feyre sputters for a moment before finally detaching her daughter and pulling strands of hair away from where Deanna had accidentally pulled them into her mouth. Mimicking the action on herself, she pulls a few strands from where they’ve covered her face.

“One more time,” she says, “and then we can take a break for the day.”

She scoops up Deanna from her place on the floor and places her onto the arm of the couch, gesturing for Rhysand to move over, poised to catch her if she should lose her balance. Deanna reaches towards her father and wobbles on the edge, and Rhys immediately shifts into position to break her fall.

However, Deanna doesn’t need any help. Her wings unfold and they twist and turn behind her, flapping awkwardly behind her as they place her back on her center of balance. The baby takes in her parents’ worried expressions and giggles, blowing a spit bubble and grinning widely.

Feyre tiptoes over to tuck Deanna’s hair behind her pointed ears, a motherly gesture that makes Rhys’ heart swell, and the impulse to take his mate and daughter into his arms grows even stronger. He doesn’t want to throw Deanna off balance, though, and settles for a featherlight kiss on the cheek and a playful wink that makes her smile even bigger than before.

With a few encouraging gestures from her mother, and an obnoxiously loud cheer from her father, Deanna wrinkles her nose in concentration, a gesture often mirrored by Feyre when she drew a bowstring or painted the fine lines of someone’s face. The girl shakily spreads her wings and teeters from side to side for a moment before regaining her footing with her mouth set in a stubborn line, an expression that looks ridiculous on a child’s face.

Finally, she stumbles into a leap and glides straight towards Feyre’s face, who ducks and barks a laugh as Deanna soars around the room, barely avoiding some near collisions with a bookshelf and a rocking chair. Rhys stands speechless, possibly for the first time ever, his eyes following his daughter in her journey around the room. Feyre does the same, but her eyes catch on her husband, and that brief distraction is enough for Deanna to crash right into her, knocking her flat on her back into the carpet.

The wind is knocked out of her and she gasps for breath, but even after she stops, she continues hearing gasps, which she soon realizes are coming from Rhysand, who is clutching his stomach and laughing so hard that he can barely breathe. She turns to Deanna and shakes her head, wrinkling her nose slightly as she presses kisses all over her daughter’s face.

“That. was. the. best. thing. I’ve. ever. seen.” he says, each word punctuated with another peal of laughter.

She whirls around with a stern expression for her mate, but her expression softens as she takes in the sight of her mate, blissfully happy and half-covered in pillows. Rhys catches the fond smile on her face and raises a playful eyebrow at her.

“Like what you see, Feyre, darling?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to tell with all this hair in my face.”

“Well, I’ll tell you that I love what I see.”

“Messy hair and all?”

Rhysand pauses and exaggeratedly looks his mate up and down. Their baby in her arms, her hair in disarray, and a glowing happiness from within.

“All of it.”

#my writing #feysand #prompt #feyre acheron #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #acowar #sarah j maas #fanfic

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louislouisrap · 6 years ago

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in which bakugo accidentally explodes at the gym

So I know I said I wasn’t really planning to make a fic out of this but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I kinda want to now? I might? Make this a thing? Or at least write up a little drabble about how each character discovers their power? I have no idea but this was fun and I wanna do it again.This was super loose and rough, very little editing. Was just for fun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also the entirety of my time spent in the gym until now was in preparation for writing about Bakugo and Kirishima going to the gym, so never give up on your dreams I guess

Also it’s super cool that some people started following me after reading my previous drabble! Thanks for doing so and I hope you continue to enjoy my dumb lil writings! （*´▽｀*）

It had been a week since Uraraka had been to the dermatologist, and they were still no closer to figuring out why her skin was behaving the way it was. The doctor had determined, at the very least, that the pads on her fingers were benign, and had suggested she try a callus cream. If nothing else, surgery to remove the pads was a last resort, but as they weren’t necessarily bothering her, Uraraka had initially dismissed the option.

It wasn’t alarming, but it stuck in the back of Bakugo’s mind as he headed to the gym with Kirishima.

“Hey man.” Bakugo greeted the redhead with a hearty clap on the shoulder as he emerged from his apartment.

“Hey!” A grin spread across Kirishima’s face, his mood infectious as always, as he stepped out into the apartment hallway. His broad hand enveloped the back of Bakugo’s neck and he went in for a combination chest bump and back slap, with a bit of a hug mixed in. After a moment, however, Kirishima broke their embrace and gave Bakugo a funny look.

“Dude, you’re like, really sweaty. Or greasy or something.”

“I know, right?!” The tips of Bakugo’s ears went pink in spite of himself. He wasn’t ever really ashamed of his body, and bodies did weird things from time to time, but he had found it odd that in even in the comfortable autumn air, he was suddenly working up a noticeable sweat. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on but I’ve been sweating like crazy the past few days.”

“I’m telling you, you need more cardio,” Kirishima laughed as they made their way out of the apartment complex and into the quiet morning streets of Shibuya.

“It’s not even that,” Bakugo argued. “It’s like I’m sweating, but it doesn’t even smell or feel like sweat. Like—” he rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie and sniffed the crease of his elbow, then shoved his arm in Kirishima’s face— “it sort of smells like chemicals? Kind of like a sweet chemical smell?”

Kirishima cautiously sniffed, then looked up at Bakugo suspiciously. “That’s weird, man.”

“I know.”

They walked on in silent contemplation for a few minutes. Then Kirishima peered at Bakugo’s face.

“Your skin looks really good, dude.”

Bakugo regarded him quizzically.

“Like it looks really smooth. Like a baby’s butt. Maybe it’s your weird sweat.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kirishima.”

Kirishima laughed, a low giggle that erupted into hearty peals. It wasn’t that funny, but Kirishima somehow managed to find humor in almost everything, and with his childlike, friendly demeanor, he was often mistaken for a high school student, rather than twenty-two. This was especially true when he let his normally spiked hair go natural, falling around his face in a way that brought out the baby fat roundness in his cheeks. Today, however, Kirishima had decided against his usual styling routine, in favor of pulling his hair back in a low ponytail for their gym session. “I’m serious! Well, kinda anyway. Here—” he grabbed Bakugo’s forearm and rubbed his cheek against it— “we’ll see tomorrow how my face looks.”

Bakugo tore his arm out of Kirishima’s grip, then smacked him on the back of the head. “You’re a fuckin’ weirdo, you know that?” he barked out, suppressing a laugh. “Besides, that’s not even how that works.”

Kirishima shrugged. “Worth a try.”

“This is why you failed science in high school,” Bakugo snorted.

Kirishima was still arguing that he had been unfairly graded in science class (“Every science class?” Bakugo had asked) when the two of them reached the small gym. It was on the ground floor of a bigger building, not necessarily large, but tall, like most buildings in the area were. The gym itself was cozy, not really exclusive, but its members were more like a community, a family rather than a collection of random gym-goers. Bakugo liked it that way, and had convinced Kirishima to switch from the commercial gym he’d been a part of for the past year.

It was early in the morning, and while there were a few early risers like themselves that frequented the gym, today they were the first ones in the building. Being as tight-knit as it was, Bakugo and Kirishima had keys to open the gym whenever they pleased. They let themselves in and made their way to the locker room to change. Bakugo tore off his black hoodie and shoved it in his locker, revealing a very plain grey t-shirt that matched his grey and black gym shorts and black and white sneakers.

Kirishima, in comparison, had a slightly louder fashion sense. Unzipping his bright red sweatshirt revealed an equally bright red tank top that did a wonderful job of showing off his chest and broad shoulders. His gym shorts were, similar to Bakugo’s, an average dusty grey, while his maroon and white sneakers finished the ensemble.

Bakugo stuck a pair of earbuds in his ears, slipped his phone into the pocket of his shorts, and followed Kirishima to one of the squat racks in a far corner of the gym. Today was deadlift day. Nothing too hard, just some lighter reps for more volume and to help with his grip strength. Before Kirishima set himself up with the barbell to start warming up for his squats, Bakugo grabbed a second barbell from behind the rack, set it on the metal spotters, and loaded two large plates on either side.

With a quiet grunt, Bakugo lifted the barbell off the spotters and shuffled over to set it down next to the squat rack where he and Kirishima could lift side-by-side. He started off with a few light warm ups: positioned the bar midway over his feet, pulled back against its weight, straightened his back, and pushed his soles into the ground as the heavy barbell lifted up off the floor. He felt the pull in his hamstrings, the fullness of his lungs holding in a giant breath of air and the slight dizziness of holding that air in until it all came out in a whoosh after a couple reps.

Bakugo counted out ten quick reps, then took a minute’s rest to get some water at the drinking fountain. He returned, then added another 45-pound plate to each side of the barbell to start the actual work.

Even with his earbuds in and his music playing, Bakugo could still hear Kirishima next to him, whooping and grunting every so often. The two of them were usually courteous enough to be as quiet as possible whenever there were others in the gym, but since it was empty, they could let loose a bit this morning.

Bakugo bent down and adjusted his hands on the bar, the grippy crosshatched metal digging into his skin. He sucked a breath deep into his belly, bent down, back straight, and pulled. The barbell was heavy, but lifted with little resistance. Bakugo held his form for a second, two, three. He felt an itch in his palms, felt sweat trickling down his face, his forearms, into the creases between his fingers.

Suddenly, he felt the bar in his hands slip, his skin too slick to keep a tight grip.

“Fuck,” Bakugo muttered as his forearms strained to keep the bar up. “Fuck!” he shouted again as the bar slipped farther, and he felt the knurling grate against his palms.

And then, out of nowhere: a multitude of whip-like crackles, then an intense heat bloomed and spread through his arms. A bright flash of fiery orange-red, dark smoke enveloping his hands. An explosion, loud enough to shudder the squat rack that Kirishima was occupying, made louder by the accompanying thud of the barbell as Bakugo dropped all 225 pounds in an instant. The force of the explosion was enough to knock him back on his ass, and he rolled back a bit onto his shoulder to soften the blow. His palms buzzed with heat and energy, and even though the explosion seemed to have come from his very own hands, he felt no pain. Just an all-encompassing warmth that traveled up his forearms and left his heart racing.

Bakugo’s chest heaved as he stared at the barbell on the floor. Thin trails of smoke whisped and curled from his hands. Kirishima rushed to his side, eyes wide and terrified. “Holy fucking shit, Bakugo, are you okay? What the fuck happened?” He knelt down and placed a firm hand on Bakugo’s sweaty, trembling back.

“I have no fucking idea,” Bakugo breathed, his voice trembling as badly as his body. He swiped at his brow with his forearm and noticed that the sweat that had been dripping down his face a moment earlier had almost completely dissipated.

Kirishima sat down next to Bakugo, drew up his knees and rested his elbows atop them. “You hurt?” he asked, brows furrowed in concern. He regarded Bakugo, who glared intensely at his open palms.

“I…I don’t think so, but—Kirishima, my hands literally just exploded.”

A beat.

“Your hands—”

“Exploded, Kirishima. It sounds insane, I know, but I swear to god that’s what happened just now. I felt it.” Bakugo’s voice regained some of its strength. “When the bar slipped out of my hands, it like, ignited or something.”

“What did?” Kirishima asked cautiously.

“I think,” Bakugo said slowly, “it’s this stuff I’ve been sweating.”

Kirishima was silent, then carefully reached out to touch Bakugo’s hand. Bakugo recoiled immediately.

“Are you crazy, Shitty Hair?”

“Just relax, would you?” Kirishima rolled his eyes and grabbed Bakugo’s wrist, pulled it close to him, and brushed his fingertips across Bakugo’s open palm. Both boys stared at Bakugo’s hand, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, Kirishima seemed to noticeably deflate. “Well that was disappointing.”

“So you wanted me to incinerate your hand?”

Kirishima shrugged. “I dunno, I just…wanted to see if something would happen. But your hands didn’t feel sweaty at all, you know.”

Bakugo opened and closed his hands a couple times, brushing his fingers along the edge of his palm. Kirishima was right; all of the perspiration from earlier was practically gone.

“Something fucking weird is going on,” he muttered. He scrambled up off the floor, then held a hand out to Kirishima to hoist him up.

“Yeah,” Kirishima agreed as he let Bakugo pull him to his feet. “Between you and Uraraka, there’s something in the water these days, man.”

Uraraka. Bakugo pulled his phone from his pocket and saw, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that she had called recently. For reasons that Bakugo would later attribute to the mysterious workings of the universe at large, he knew he needed to call her back right then. He didn’t know why, but he just knew.

With a heavy thumb he tapped on the missed call notification and brought the phone to his ear. She picked up after one ring.

“Uraraka? Hey, I—”

The sinking feeling in his stomach bottomed out as she interrupted him, her voice shaking as badly as his had moments ago. “Bakugo, I need you to come over, right now.”

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

“Just get here as soon as you can. Please.”

Bakugo ended the call immediately and grabbed Kirishima hard by the arm. “We have to go,” he explained, forcing down the panicked edge in his voice. “Now.”

#kacchako #kiribaku i guess?#kiribaku #the broiest kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugo katsuki #uraraka ochako #bnha #mha #my fic stuff #au #i have heartburn #gn everyone #bakuraka

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zorosmoobs · 7 years ago

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supernovae-paws replied to your post “feelin like i wanna write a lil short zolu fic or somethin. send ideas...”

mmm can i get an order of luf pranking zoro and accidentally starting a prank war between the two

HERE U GO it’s rly short sorry I’m working on zolu week stuff rn!

Luffy groans. And moans. And bitches. And ugggghhhhhhs.

It was meant to be a simple one time prank, really. He just drew some thick marker eyebrows on Zoro while he slept, making him look like he was constantly angry (and really, was that SO different than his usual expression?). Everyone thought it was funny! Usopp laughed for like, fifteen minutes straight. Chopper giggled until he cried. Nami had to leave to stop herself from losing it. Sanji got a whole hoot n a holler out of it. Robin even SMILED. EVERYONE loved it.

Except Zoro, of course. Confusion turned to angry confusion turned to rage turned to throttling Luffy. He should have expected that, really. Angry Zoro is always a threatening Zoro, especially with his new thick eyebrows. Luffy didn’t even have the gall to be scared – it was just too fucking funny.

Now, however, he was steeped in regret. Despite announcing Zoro’s stupidity every chance he can get, Luffy has to admit that he’s smart. Zoro is too smart, actually.

The rubberman slams his hand on the rail in a pitiful attempt to free it from its prison. He should have known a jar containing a small piece of meat was too good of an offer to be true. He should have known not to jam his hand in there to get it. He should have known he committed an act of war, and that revenge was coming.

He can pretty much hear Zoro’s smug bastard ass gloating from here. “Sleeping” his foot, he knows that swordsman is awake and enjoying this. Luffy smashes his hand on the rail again, a strangled scream erupting from his mouth. He can’t take it anymore – he needs help.

Luffy marches up to Zoro and promptly thwacks him with his jar covered hand. Zoro’s surprised OOF and wide eyes bring a smile to Luffy’s face, and he makes sure it looks sickeningly sweet.

“Hello, Zoro,” he trills, “Mind helping me? Hmm?”

Zoro is very obviously trying not to laugh. Bastard. “Looks like you’re in quite the predicament, captain.”

“I know that,” he grits out, “that’s why I’m asking for your help!”

It takes 20 more minutes, 3 more tools and 2 more Straw Hats to remove the jar, and Luffy’s wrist is a bright irritated red. Zoro almost looks remorseful, but not enough to stop Luffy from escalating things.

Luffy grabs Usopp aside after the debacle and starts whispering, which for the rubberman is really just talking. “Usopp! You gotta help me. I need prank ideas for Zoro!”

Usopp grins wide at him and grabs his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re working with a professional here. I won at least ten prank wars back home, and that was when I was like, 12. I have a whole workshop of goodies waiting for you!”

On the other side of the ship, Zoro is in a small huddle with Nami. She gives him a slap on the back.

“Good work, but you’ll need to do better than that to win this,” she coaches, slinging on arm over his shoulder. “I’m talking bigger, better, louder, dumber.”

Zoro nods. This is only the beginning. He only just won a battle, not the war.

#supernovae-paws #replies

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uniformbravo · 8 years ago

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bloop heres a post abt my 3-day trip to san diego B)

this was just gonna be a list of highlights but i ended up talking about a lot so it’s more like a Kind Of The Highlights But I Got A Little Carried Away list

it was a 2 hr drive so i put on some tunes & forced everyone in the car to listen to my thousands of anime ops and piano covers it was *fire emoji* (im not on mobile)

at the end jaelin said she couldn’t hear it the whole time rip

made myself carsick looking at mob psycho memes while we looked for a parking spot at the museum for 20 minutes (it was worth it they were good memes)

the museum we went to had a whole gaming thing going on where they just had a shitload of games out for ppl to play & one of them was just dance projected onto like an entire wall basically & i mean i didnt play but it was fun watching my mom try her best

she played against two of my sisters who both beat her by more than double her score hgdhgksd bye mom

got a nauseating headache in the science museum & took the opportunity to sit down & look at more mob psycho memes for 35 minutes while the advil kicked in

felt better by the time we went to see this fuckin movie about national parks in the us but idk it was like. the whole reason my mom wanted to go to san diego was to see this movie bc they were getting rid of it soon & after seeing it i can see why they’re taking it out kjgkdjgksd like!!! it would’ve been cool if it told u shit about the parks like fauna and flora shit but it had this dumb little narrative abt these three campers traveling to each park & fucking around & i looked over at jaelin at one point & she was asleep & i was like same

im being too hard on it, it was kind of interesting to watch and had some cool visuals but the acting was pretty embarrassing & unnecessary, i wish it would’ve tried to be a documentary instead of entertaining. that’s my Professional Review of this random movie they’re removing forever soon, hope u enjoyed

realized i had more free time at the hotel than i thought i would & v heavily regretted not bringing my tablet to draw aaaaaahhhhh it was ok tho bc i brought my big sketchbook so i just drew in there B)

i’ve been drawing a lot of terukis i think i accidentally discovered a hidden love for him on the midnight shores of the san diego bay

(what i actually discovered is that he’s v easy to project a rly specific part of myself onto hgkdgksdjkgjsdk)

rented bikes to ride by the bay & it was super fun bc i havent ridden a bike in a long time but like. the second half started getting really hard for me & i thought i was just weak shit bc i literally never exercise but then i realized my back tire had gone flat hfdjghsd my legs were..... so sore

also the seat was shaped weird so my ass was sore for the rest of the trip. it’s still sore tbh. i have a bruised ass

went to a model train museum which was pretty cool bc the little towns had little people & jaelin and i were making up stories for them (my favorite recurring joke was pointing out ppl that had fallen over & calling them dead)

after the trains we made a spur-of-the-moment decision to stay a third day to see more museum shit bc why not so we managed to grab a room at a new hotel and #Locked In our decision

on the way to the second hotel we got a flat tire so i was like convinced i was cursed bc wtf it was literally on the same day???

while we waited for the tire repair i got a pink lemonade from taco bell and it was amazing i can’t believe i ever thought piece of shit sprite was worth even looking at over this

ok so i need to talk about the second hotel we stayed at because it was... literally the fanciest hotel i have ever stayed at in my entire 22 year old life

it was a mariott?? but a fuckin Fancy Mariott ok first of all we were on the 19th floor which just..... what the fuck

floor level was the 6th floor, this bitch went underground (though that might have just been the parking garage idk)

the lobby bathroom was like. jesus christ. to flush the toilet u wave ur hand over a sensor??? what’s wrong with just automatic toilets???? why are these toilets so extra????? i couldn’t even get it to work for so long jgkjdkgsd i hate technology

also there were moist towelettes sitting in a neatly folded pile by the sinks like what even. i thought it was paper towels but then it was wet

the lobby also had this fancy-ass bar/lounge where they served starbucks but u had to have a room key to get in i think

in the elevators to get to the rooms you can’t even enter the floor level until you hold your key card against a sensor like what the fuck..... we had to get some strangers to tell us how to do it gjdks i bet if we hadn’t been able to figure it out the elevator wouldve just dropped us 12 floors to our death like Access Denied, Assholes

the room itself was super fucking cramped tho which makes sense like if im gonna be able to afford anything at a place like this u better believe it’s gonna be the size of a damn peanut. it was the fanciest peanut ive ever seen in my life tho

the view was uhh we were directly across from some tall office building so at night u could like see into all the rooms it was kinda cool but also weird

there was a jar of hershey’s kisses on the coffee table when we got there but it was dark chocolate so like get the fuck outta here with that shit how dare you assault Mine Eyes (i ate like 4)

it rly was a tiny room tho and it didnt help that there were 5 of us rip... like there was a main room and a bedroom and a bathroom and already that’s making it sound bigger than it was hgkdjgskd

but even tho it was small it had a lot like.. there was a kitchenette that was big enough for like 1 person to stand there but it had a fridge/freezer, sink, dishwasher, toaster, microwave, cupboards & coffeemaker like there was so much shit crammed in there, this wasn’t no minimalist living space it was just. a lot crammed into one tiny floor plan

anyway yeah it was really bizarre for me to be in a place like that & i just constantly felt like i didn’t belong there but that was mostly my anxiety lol i really dont like being in fancy places in general idk. it was still kinda fun tho

the natural history museum was cool, they had a bunch of animal skulls & taxidermy which i thought was pretty neat. all their dinosaur stuff was in the basement tho which u had to pay extra to see which like. bye

they did have some cool movies tho, they were like nature documentaries, one on marine biology around baja california and the other on animals of the galapagos & those were pretty neat, way better than that national parks shit we saw at the science center jgkdjkskdkdjg

ok so this one’s more of a buildup over the 3 days so im gonna give a lil 3-part summary

day 1: we went to panda express for dinner & i had leftovers so i was like “sweet im saving these for when we get home” (bc the hotel had a fridge right)

day 2: got a rly good burger from a vegan place, my brother got the same one but didnt want his second half so i was like “cool more leftovers im gonna have so much good food when we get home this is perfect”

day 3: fucKIGN LEFT BOTH CONTAINERS IN THE FRIDGE ACCIDENTALLY WHEN WE CHECKED OUT HKDJFLSKDG i was literally so good about it the first two days like when we switched hotels i made sure not to forget them and i held onto them & everything & then halfway through the third day i was like “SHIT”

it’s ok tho bc for dinner that 3rd day we did panda again & i got the same thing so i have the same leftovers again hehehehehe

ok i think that’s basically everything & im not just saying that bc it’s 1:45 am and ive been working on this for like an hour and a half at this point.,.,. overall it was pretty fun, i think i liked the bikes & those animal movies the best... also the drive out bc i got to play my music lmfao (i love sharing my music ok)

anyway the end thank u

#retag later #today posts #oops this is rly long but uhh it was all over the course of 3 days so its fine

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franeridart · 8 years ago

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WHERE IS LAVI

Sadly all my magic rituals to try and scry directly inside Hoshino’s mind haven’t worked just yet, so I can’t answer this question - also, looks like DGM isn’t in the line-up for Jump SQ Crown this month either :( so we won’t know for at least another four months still - since Lavi’s my absolute most fave and thinking about the situation he’s in makes me feel literal pain and no actual solution to it seems to want to come any time soon, I try to think about it as little as I can. After six years of waiting for him denial has become my best friend, anon 👍

Anon said:DID YOU SEE MY SON BEING CARRIED AROUND I LOVE HIM SO MUCHH

I’m gonna assume you’re talking about Shinsou! He was adorable, but lbr the habit Horikoshi has of having him and Tetsu always appear together kind of takes all my possible hype away from Shinsou to direct it on the shark child. I hope Horikoshi will stop doing that, actually

Anon said:Lmao, in the coffee shop au I noticed you drew Kaminari with his hair shorter in the back - did you do that so you could avoid drawing a mullet? I cry

Actually!!! I hadn’t thought about that! But there had to be a reason why he looked better like that JK I love Kaminari’s hair and haircut, he’s the only child I’m gonna accept having a sort-of-mullet and still looking fine as hell - it’s because his hair looks so soft? And silky? I kinda wanna braid it I should draw him with his hair braided

Anon said:You know, after last chapter, seeing Kirishima reassure Midoriya and telling him not to talk negatively about himself takes a whole new meaning. This boy, he really cares so much about other people than himself

I wouldn’t say he cares more for others than himself, but he definitely does have different standards for others compared to those he uses on himself - then again, isn’t that just how people with low self-esteem always act? BUT!!! I have all the good reasons to think that Bakugou’s words have significantly lessened Kirishima’s inferiority complex about his quirk (because I’m locating that chat before the license exam and when you think about it since around then Kiri has been acting more confidently !!!) so I don’t think you should worry too much anymore! Kirishima has Bakugou and Bakugou has Kirishima and they keep each other good and positive and that’s beautiful and I’m alive

Anon said:What is your full name, if you don’t mind me asking??

Why anon, isn’t Fran enough for you? *wiggle eyebrows* kidding, I’m assuming all my Italian friends have guessed already since it’s a pretty common name so it’s cool, you can know, my full name is Francesca. Though I’d really prefer it if you’d keep on calling me just Fran 👍

Anon said: Why are you so perfect

Hah I’m really, really, really not anon

Anon said: Honestly their hairs are so amazing in the last one and i absolutely love the way you never do the prompts the way they are expected and idk if you do it on purpose but its just amazing

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much????? And I wouldn’t say I do it on purpose, I just draw the first thing with a beginning and an ending I can manage to think about (fun fact, sometimes I deem the first thing too ridiculous or not good enough and I try to think about something else but by then the idea is there and I won’t be able to draw anything else r i p)

Anon said:Geez when Kiri called Baku manly and cool I was just like “end me” how did I not realize how precious he is in s1? He’s so frikkin adorable!

He doesn’t really do much in s1!!! But he is adorable isn’t he??? He’s the sun of my life I love him so much bless his gay heart

Anon said:I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW KUROO

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:I hope your happy you jelly bean! I started to watch boku no hero to understand the poly ship you ship. Now I can escape this hell cause I know I’ll read the manga next!

I actually am really damn happy!!!!! I hope you’ll enjoy it all till the very end if you do catch up, anon!! Come back and tell me who your fave is, once you’re done °O°

Anon said:Hinata forgot to spike the ball

HE DID I can’t believe that small adorable disaster of a boy how is he even still a regular oh my g O D I love him so much I can’t believe him what a good (mostly tho, he jumped like Hoshiumi holy FUCK I can’t wait to see that one work for him !!!)

Anon said:there’s a terushima week coming up soon?? might we see a cute bokuroteru maybe? :O

Since I’m literally just finding out about this, like, right now and the week starts in about three days or something I can’t really promise I will participate in it, anon ;;;—;;; I don’t have the time to plan for it at this point and in the same period there’s the bakushima week too (which I… still haven’t drawn anything for r I P) and !!!!! It’s just too little time BUT next month it’s polyship may!!! One prompt per day for the whole month and it’s all about polyships, I plan on drawing small doodles for all of them, or at least try, and bokuroteru will DEFINITELY be between the ot3s I’ll draw for!!!! I hope that’s good enough for you :( I’m actually so damn sad I just found out about this ;;;-;;;

Anon said:i think i’m in love with your art (especially youre bakushimanari and your bokuro to be honest !) because everytime i go on your blog i stay here for hours and hope it never end ! well, thank you for sharing all those cute art with us !! ♥

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! I’m glad I can make you enjoy my lil blog that much??? This actually made me so happy oh my god (////▽////)

Anon said:How on Earth does Bakugou fit his giant bracers in the tiny briefcase thingy the school gives them to keep their costumes in, do you suppose?

The cases are bigger on the inside *doctor who theme playing in the distance* either that or he’s actually Mary Poppins, which wouldn’t be all that bad would it I’m laughing lmao

(when you think about it really huge costume pieces fit in a few other kids’ cases too - take Iida and Aoyama, or Kirishima’s gears, or Ochako’s arm pieces - so I’m just assuming the support kids are really really crafty… and Bakugou’s gauntlets can probs disassemble, he must take forever to gear up)

The real question here is why Hagakure needs a case at all

Anon said:now that i started reading bnha i appreciate your art alot more. I already loved your art even though i didnt know who all the character were who werent from voltron or hq

Ahhhhh thank you so much!!!!! I really really hope you’ll like the manga at least enough to keep reading, anon!!! <3<3<3

Anon said:I know it’s so rude but, is it somethin’ about Kuroo/Bakugou that makes Bokuto/Kirishima get hot to trot?

ANON I’m sorry but I can’t let myself answer even just vaguely nsfw asks - I just, even though I might have headcanons for these there is a certain line with nsfw I’m really not comfortable crossing and once you start answering this kind of questions it’s hard drawing that line and making it so that you’ll always be sure it will be respected and I just… really don’t want to get to the point where one day I’ll open my inbox and find something I’ll feel really uncomfortable with? Does that make sense??? aaaahhhhhhhh!!!!! I hope you’ll understand ;;-;;

Anon said:Bokutitties. what even. Reminds me of the Shimada brothers (do you play Overwatch??) and their left nipple that is always exposed

I don’t, but most of my dash does so I get what you’re talking about lmao I can 100% assure you it was an accidental coincidence, anon haha

Anon said:okey okey do i was thinking about your art of bakugou being cold and shit and i. i came up with this idea like, what if baku is that sort of person who hates socks? so hell go complain to kirishima and or kaminari about being cold and theyll just go; …..put on some goddamn socks

!!!!!!!!!!!! Anon you wanna know the best thing about this? If you keep an eye out for all the times you can see Bakugou’s ankles in the manga it seems like he actually never wears socks I’ll cry forever your headcanon might as well be canon what a blessed moment

Anon said:I see and accept your hero course sleeplessness and would like to raise it to the teachers giving puppet/shadow shows.

….you can’t make a shadow show without Tokoyami getting involved so I’ll assume he’ll find a way to wiggle into it too, and he’d bring Shouji with because his quirk could help - I bet my head you can’t have Aizawa participate even offering to pay him, and also that it probably started from Mic because he’s extra like that

most enthusiastic participants would be Snipe and Toshi, Cementoss would have no problems with it either and his quirk is handy for cool effects, Midnight is kind of live and let live about the whole deal but doesn’t mind stopping by to look at them making fools of themselves now and again - most of the students are like ???? why tho the first time because they aren’t kids anymore and there’s no reason for this, Iida though doesn’t even question sitting through the whole thing because it’s their teachers and it’s just the right thing to do, Izuku does the same but just because All Might, Ochako stays because Izuku and Iida stay, same for Todoroki, and if Ochako stays so does Tsuyu - Kirishima and Mina are the only actually enthusiastic ones out of Baku’s group but they got a way to bring all of the squad together for it anyway, Baku included, they’re noisy and pushy just enough for that… actually when I think about it in the end everyone would stay at least the first time for one reason or another , and then the show starts, and it’s with quirks and really out of scale on the special effects with microphones and bgm and shifting stages and so on and this was supposed to help the students with sleeplessness but at this point it’s just the teachers having fun and together with them the kids as well no one goes to sleep any time soon when they put together a show lbr

#fran answers #so many #words #r i p #anonymous

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