#i mean it's time and a half so it's worth it

[muchosbesitos]

DOUBLE OR NOTHING— featuring toji fushiguro x wife! reader

after countless empty promises spilled from his lips, you wanted to believe that he’d show up to your anniversary of all things.

contents: 18+ content, minors dni. marriage problems, talks of divorce, (some) angst, smut, porn w minimal plot, cunnilingus w fingering, toji being a panty sniffer briefly mentioned, unprotected p in v, spanking (twice), backshots, missionary against a wall, toji kinda being an ass (what did you expect), pet names (ma, doll, etc.)

word count: 5k

author’s note: back from the dead sry

"I'll make it home to you by six, mama. Take you out on a nice date, get you some flowers, all that stuff you like. Promise."

The clock was nearing eight o'clock with no signs of Toji coming through the door anytime soon, your own patience starting to run out with every tick. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The sound echoed through your ears since you'd sat down on the leather couch nearly two hours ago, waiting for Toji to fulfill the promise. A promise that he'd made after flaking out on the date planned prior to that one.

And prior to that one. And prior. It'd been more missed dates than actual ones that he'd taken you out by now—you weren't exactly sure why you'd hoped for tonight to be different. Well, you knew exactly why. Today marked three years of being married to one another. You knew that he didn't prioritize date nights with you as much as he should, but you had held some sort of foolish hope that your anniversary would mean something—anything to him.

The divorce papers felt like a dead weight in your hand, much like how your relationship would be the second that you brought it up. It all just seemed so final, seeing the terms laid out that would end years of marriage. Just by the flick of a pen. But the idea was almost like a reprieve, like something that was worth looking forward to. You shook your head, getting up from the couch to set the stack of papers on the kitchen table where Toji wouldn't miss them.

Another half hour of eerie silence and Toji still hadn't come through the door. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep some semblance of hope that he'd even show up at all, much less for your date. You admitted defeat, slipping off your heels and pulling up a throw blanket over yourself. Succumbing to the sleep that was weighing down on your eyelids.

You weren't even sure how much time had passed when you heard the door swing open, the door hitting the wall from the force. The thud of his shoes hitting the tile followed, a grumble leaving Toji's lips. "Fuckin' bastards rigged that race. Robbed me of fifty bucks," he muttered to himself, slipping his coat off before placing it up on the coat rack.

"You're home late," you called out, watching as Toji turned to look at the couch before flicking on one of the living room lights. "Jesus woman, you scared me," he grumbled, a large hand resting by his chest as he looked over in your direction. Toji rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion lingering on his face like a second skin. It was only then that he looked over at you, really looked at you, and what you were wearing.

Ah shit.

Almost as if he wanted to make the situation worse, he'd chosen to go with, "You got all dolled up just to fall asleep on the couch?" You could've sworn you felt your eye twitch at the question. He'd barely opened up his mouth and you were already wishing that he didn't even bother showing up for the night.

Toji knew he was in deep shit with each step he took into the living room, his mind already starting to work overdrive to figure out what he could do for what he'd missed. A date? No, you wouldn't have put on the very expensive pair of Louboutins for just any date. His mind was blanking on anything other than the numbers that he'd lost with earlier in the day. Come on, think.

"No, I got dolled up because I thought I'd be going out with my husband tonight," you retorted dryly, smudges of eyeshadow sticking to your hand when you went to rub at your eyes. You could see Toji's brows furrow, the wheels seeming to turn in his head for once, before a look of realization settled on his features.

"Look, I'm sorry. I got carried away at the casino," one of the many excuses you'd heard before coming back to bite you in the ass. The same excuse that he'd used last month when he forgot about a work party you'd mentioned to him. Which wouldn't have been too bad if it weren't for all the snide comments being whispered in your direction and all the unwarranted marriage advice.

Advice that you ended up forgetting about chugging down two glasses of tequila like water. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. You can pick the place and all that shit." There went another one. He'd really topped himself using the two of them in a row. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, looking over at him in disbelief. "Do you even know what today was? Why I'm so pissed off?"

"It's your birthday?" Toji spoke after a couple seconds, the answer clearly wrong just by the look on his face. You rubbed a hand over your face, standing up from your spot on the couch. "It's our wedding anniversary, Toji," you spoke up before he made another guess that would just piss you off even further, "And I have something I need to talk to you about. It's on the kitchen table."

Underneath the vase filled with wilted flowers—a collection more than anything that you kept around as a reminder that Toji used to care, was a stack of papers. He placed the vase down on the table with more force than necessary upon realizing what the documents were. "A divorce?" The words slipped out of him with such venom, such distaste, like the idea was unfathomable.

Toji slammed the papers down on the table, the salt and pepper shakers trembling before falling over. "Is that really what you want?" He stepped closer to you when you approached the table, his hands instinctively moving to hold your hips. Holding you close to his body. "No, I didn't get married with the intention of getting a divorce. But you've been neglecting this marriage for a couple months now."

"I'll make it up to you now," Toji spoke quickly, like he was afraid of losing you at any moment. Like you'd disappear if he didn't. And as much as you wanted to avoid looking over at him, the task had just become all that much difficult when you had nowhere else to look at. It only took one glance at his face to realize just what he meant by 'making it up to you.'

"You think you're gonna fix months of pushing me aside with just sex?"

"Nah, I know it's gonna take more. But you've been so tired, isn't that right? So tired of tryin' to keep this marriage from falling apart and nobody taking care of you?" His words were like a siren's song when he whispered them in your ear, your traitorous body leaning back to meet the drag of your fingertips. It was almost laughable at how easily your resolve had melted. "Lemme take care of you mama. Promise I'll make you feel good."

"You wanna call me a dick, never wanna see me again? That's fine, just don't deny me one last taste. Please," And while Toji wasn't a man to beg for anything in his life, he found himself saying the words anyways. "Thought this was you making it up to me," and as much as you were willing yourself not to fold, you felt yourself spreading your legs almost instinctively when his finger dragged up your inner thigh.

"Can't it be both?" Toji's teeth nipped at your neck, licking a stripe up the junction of your neck. Practically salivating at the taste of you, of the expensive perfume you'd put on just a mere hours beforehand. "One could say that you're just being selfish," your words quickly died out when Toji started sucking on your pulse point, your own heartbeat betraying you. You'd expected Toji to sass you back, say something about how your body was just so needy against his touch.

But instead, he dropped down to his knees in front of you. The wooden floor underneath his knees almost made him feel bad for all the times he had you in a similar position. Almost. Toji looked up at you, "Selfish only when it comes to you."

Every slow drag of his fingertips across your smooth skin seemed almost reverent— like you were something to worship. You were, he just failed to realize that until now. Until you were almost out the door. "I'm sorry," the first real apology of the night slipped out of his mouth, his lips pressed against your shin. "I'm sorry," he moved up to your knee, repeating the action. Hushed whispers of I'm sorry's and featherlight kisses moving up your legs, stopping only when he gets to your clothed cunt.

"I'm sorry," Toji uttered his last apology against your cunt, his eyes locking onto yours as he applied an open mouthed kiss on your clothed clit. Barely darting his tongue out, swirling it against the nerves that were just begging for one ounce of stimulation. And he was practically reveling in how needy he made you in the span of seconds. Your back arched to rest against the seat behind you, one of your hands going to rest on his head.

Toji's fingers dragged slowly in between your folds, feeling the wet patch already starting to form through the thin lace material. You refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if you did, he'd be able to see just how desperate you were in just a manner of seconds. Even if the bastard probably had a clue already. "You sure your pussy agrees with the divorce?" His voice came out to something akin to a purr, the drag of his fingers slowing down.

Getting you even more worked up than you were already. "Fucking hate you, can't even apologize right," you let out a hiss, your hand going down to his hair. Pulling his head even closer to you despite your previous claim. "Fine, I'll apologize correctly," Toji sounded like you were the one inconveniencing him—to which you were. He wanted to take his time with his meal, have you begging for him to touch you. And normally, he would've.

If he weren't desperate to have your cunt on his face again after weeks, months? of just having his fist to work with. His fist and a used pair of your panties up to his nose like a pervert, hips humping the air in desperation. Imagining that it was your tongue flicking across his leaking tip instead of his thumb, that it was your soft hands in exchange of his rough ones. And as easy as it was for him to get laid—he didn't want to be with anyone that wasn't you.

Toji hadn't tasted someone as sweet as you, heard someone so angelic before, but now he supposed that maybe he'd have to put that theory to the test if you left him after all. Just the idea was maddening. That someone else would be doing the same thing that he's doing to you now, that they'd give you the affection that he should've given.

"Especially sorry to you. Been neglecting you for too long," he hooked his fingers around the side of your panties, pulling them to the side just enough to reveal your slick folds to him. Toji swiped the tip of his finger along your entrance, your slick glistening against the harsh kitchen lighting before he stuck in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, licking away at it like the slut he was.

And like the deprived man that he'd been, Toji's hands went to the lace of your underwear and stretched it out until a loud rip echoed throughout the kitchen. "You always this wet for people you hate? Or is that just for me?" Toji taunted, pushing your tattered panties down to your ankles. Finally leaning in closer to where you were aching for him to touch you. To do something other than just tease you relentlessly.

Toji settled on his knees behind you, spreading your legs open like you were his favorite meal. His tongue swiped up on your dripping cunt, licking up your essence with sheer greed. "Mmph fuck, so good," his words came out muffled, his tongue swiping across your folds before darting inside of your cunt. Your grip on the table tightened, your hips working on their own accord to push back onto his face. Practically suffocating him in your pussy. Not that he minded. By any means.

Toji practically welcomed it, his hands pushing you down onto his face. Getting absorbed in your cunt completely. "A-Ah fuck, Toji!" You could already see the noise complaint hanging on your front door first thing in the morning. But how could you be expected to keep your voice down? Toji spread your folds apart with two fingers as if he were preparing for a feast, his tongue feverishly licking in between.

"Fuckin' soaked already, knew you loved me," The vibration of the low chuckle that followed his words shot currents up your spine, your ass jiggling all that much more in his face. With such a decadent taste coating his taste buds, dying by your pussy would be nothing short of a blissful way to go out. One of the fingers that he'd been using to spread your folds had been pushed inside of your cunt, your walls clenching around him.

Toji's tongue flicked against your clit, swirling the tip around the bud while his finger slowly pushed further inside of you. The loud squelch of your cunt was the only thing that filled the apartment, everything else completely silent. Your fingers dug deeper into his scalp, a low groan leaving his lips. "F-Fuck, Toji Toji," he pushed another thick finger inside, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

"You think y're gonna find someone who can do this?" Toji looked up at you, his fingers curling up to hit that spongy spot inside of you almost perfectly. And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost say that he looked vulnerable while he made the question. Toji's lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it as his fingers worked you closer and closer to your orgasm. You couldn't bring yourself to answer—didn't trust yourself to speak.

"Toji, Toji, gonna cum," you gave him a warning, your jaw falling slack and your lips parting in a o-shape. Soundless moans leaving your lips, feeling that coil in your lower tummy start to tighten up all the much more. With one final pump of his fingers, you were covering his lips with your release. His tongue swiped across his lips, across the scar that he hated, collecting every drop. Savoring what he imagined would be the last taste of you.

"Turn around," It was almost embarrassing how quickly you'd turned around per your soon-to-be ex husband's request.

Toji didn't take more than a couple seconds in unbuttoning his pants and taking them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. Precum dribbled from his annoyingly almost pretty pink tip, dripping onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. His cock slid through your folds like a slip n slide, your previous orgasm coating his tip with every lazy drag. "Toji," your voice bordered on a whine, pushing your hips to try to meet his movements.

"Tell me what you want," Toji clicked his tongue, one of his hands moving to hold your waist. Keeping you completely still until he got what he wanted. You figured there wasn't any harm in whining—you were already fucking the man after you brought up a divorce. There truly wasn't that much more to lose. "Why do I have to ask for it when you're the one apologizing?"

"Because you're the one pushing your hips back against me. All needy 'n shit. So.. beg."

"Want you inside me, Toji. Please."

"Want?"

You let out a huff before correcting yourself, "Need."

"Come on, doll. You can say it nicer than that, right?" Toji's pointer trailed up your torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

So goddamn annoying. You swallowed whatever pride you had left before looking back over at him, "Please, Toji. Need your cock in me. Please."

Toji clicked his tongue, one hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a couple tentative pumps. "Think you can beg better than that. But since I'm feeling nice, I guess I'll let it slide." So much for feeling apologetic. Toji pushed his cock inside of you in one swift motion, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. Even with the fingers that'd been inside of you, nothing could've really prepared you.

"You okay?" Toji dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, whispering the words in your ear. Staying still while your walls tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. "You try taking your cock," you muttered dryly, giving him a nod to start moving. "Why would I do that when you take it so well?" Toji pushed the rest of his cock inside, his hands resting on your hips.

Toji wasn't particularly known for being gentle—the one hospital visit after he'd injured your cervix more than enough proof of that, but he started off slow. Slow, shallow thrusts. Fucking you in a way that he hasn't since your honeymoon. "Toji, you can speed up," you assured him, your words getting cut off with a smack to your ass. "What I'd say about tellin' me what to do?" Ah, there was the mean Toji that you recognized.

"Wouldn't need to tell you what to do if my vibrator wasn't looking more appealing right now."

Famous last words.

The change was almost immediate. Mascara dribbled down your cheeks, the sight of your once composed makeup all ruined making Toji's cock twitch inside of you. "Fucking pretty like this, y'know?" His teeth sunk down on the junction of your shoulder, his teeth grazing across the sensitive flesh. His hips snapped roughly into yours, your breathing growing erratic. "Fuck, Fuck, Toji!"

The coldness of his gold wedding band hit your skin as soon as he went to grip your hips, holding you against him like he needed to be close to you. The two of you had been distant for some time and he hadn't bothered to take off his wedding band once, not even on the rare occasion that he actually did happen to take a job. Toji would never admit it, of course—but he was starved for the feeling of your skin against his own.

To confirm that you were still here after all.

Your hands reached out to grab to whatever you could grab—anything, and of course, it just happened to be the divorce papers sitting on the middle of the table. Practically taunting you as your own signature glared back at you. "This good enough for you, princess?" Toji taunted in your ear, his blunt fingernails digging into your sides. "Mhm, j-just like that," your voice came out in a mewl, all bits of defiance completely out of your system.

"There you go. Nasty fucking girl," Toji all but purred in your ear the moment you started to jerk your hips back to meet his own, your ass bouncing with each one of his thrusts. "Just needed Toji to take care of ya," all you could was nod your head fervently, your grip on the divorce papers tightening. And Toji, of course, took notice. He took the papers from you with one hand, giving them a once-over before passing them back over.

"Come on, since ya wanted it so bad, read me those divorce papers," Toji handed you the stack of papers, pointing to where you'd signed your initials just a couple hours prior. Your hands shook as you held the papers, your vision blurry as you tried to make out the legal jargon in front of you. Even the simplest of words seemed all too complicated to try to make out.

"T-Toji, I can't," your voice cracked, your grip on the papers tightening when his cock reached all that much deeper inside of you. Toji clicked his tongue, peering over your shoulder to read the first sentence from the document. "That's not what it says ma, try again."

"Without all the stuttering too."

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the words in front of you instead of Toji's cock sinking further and further into you. "S-Says that the divorce agreement was made today between us," you clutched the sheets tighter, your eyes almost rolling back when Toji bottomed out inside of you. The tip of his cock dripping precum, your walls fluttering as you tried to get adjusted.

"Mm, yeah, keep goin'," Toji really couldn't care—his focus solely on the way that your cunt stretched out to fit his cock. Leaking around his shaft, loud squelches when he pulled out overplaying whatever shitty soap opera was playing. "And what'd I say about the s-stuttering?" Toji mocked your words, his own hips stuttering mere seconds later while he tried not to get absorbed in your cunt. Not that it was an easy task by any means.

It was hard, especially with the way that you claimed to be over this marriage despite your pussy claiming otherwise. When you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that left you was a moan. "F-Fuck Toji, right there," your eyes shut tightly at the touch of his calloused hand making itself in between your legs, his thumb rubbing at your clit in a speed that felt like it combated his own running abilities.

"That's not what it says, c'mon," Toji grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, turning your head to face the overwhelmingly long divorce papers. You wouldn't finish tonight if he intended for you to read the whole thing, you knew that much. A harsh slap against your swollen clit made the pleasure coursing through your veins mix with pain, a shaky gasp leaving your kiss-swollen lips.

Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, the black ink smearing with each drop that fell from your parted lips. Your walls enveloped every inch of his cock perfectly, your cunt holding his cock in a vice-like grip. "That I won't try to t-take your things," you managed to get out, hoping that it would be good enough. You knew the two of you wouldn't finish today if he made you read the never ending stack of papers. 

"Good enough," Toji sounded like he would've kept it going if he could, but you set them down as quickly as he spoke. It was almost like Toji was trying to remind you of why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place—the man reverent to your cunt and your cunt only. Every grip of your hips kept you closer and closer to his body, almost as a way for Toji to make sure you weren't slipping away.

"Wh—" Before you had the chance to complain about the loss of contact, Toji had already carried you without a smidge of struggle. His hands hooked underneath your plush thighs, hoisting you up against the wall. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his slutty waist, practically clinging onto him like a koala. "There we go, there's that pretty lil face," Toji placed his pointer underneath your chin, taking in the view in front of him.

The glazed over look in your eyes, the sweat beading up on your forehead, the makeup that he'd successfully ruined—everything about you was just so beautiful. How you tried to avoid looking in his direction for too long. "Don't leave me ma, need you in my life," the words were whispered into your ear, his cock pushing back inside of you in one swift motion. Toji's fingers went back to your throbbing clit, his pointer and middle rubbing against it at the perfect speed.

Not too fast, not too slow, and not too rough.

"Don't ask me to do that," you almost sounded pained as you spoke—not from him filling you up, but for the implication of his words. You'd practically babble anything right now, anything for him to keep going. To forget about the reality that awaits the two of you. Toji's lips found yours in an instant, the exchange between the two of you almost depraved. His mouth was feverish in the way that it moved against yours, like he'd never get the chance again.

Your hand went to the back of his head, pushing him closer against you. Letting yourself forget for just a little while longer. A string of saliva connected your lips to his when you pulled away—only to catch air. "I’m close, Toji, so close," you whined against his lips, your release coating his shaft a mere moments later. Toji only used that as lubricant, his movements quicker against your cunt to chase his own release.

"There's no one else for me, I'll stop goin' to t-the casino, stop gettin' into trouble," Toji had been reduced to a babbling the first thing he pulled out of his ass, if only to get you to stay. His head rested against the junction of your neck, basking in the remnants of proximity that he could get. Shaky breaths left his lips with each thrust of his hips, feeling himself getting closer and closer. "You've been saying that since we've been married."

"I mean it this time, I promise," you'd never heard a lie sound so pretty slipping from someone's lips before until now.

He bit down on the side of your neck, hard. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to where you'd probably have to use a tube of concealer to even attempt to cover up the bruising mark. Causing you problems even now. But you'd be lying if the sudden act of possessiveness had your walls clenching against him even tighter, if that was even possible anymore.

His cock was barely moving against the tight grip you held around his shaft, his pace stuttering. "Fuck, fuck, so tight," Toji let out a loud groan, completely at the will of your pussy. He threw his head back, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks in this lighting. Ropes and ropes of cum decorated your cunt, his softening length snug inside of you. Toji ended up pulling out a couple moments later, scooping the drops of cum that leaked down your thighs with his finger.

Toji was shameless in the way that he stuck the finger in his mouth, a low moan leaving his lips at the combined taste of him and you. Before your rationality came back, before you got the chance to even think about regretting this, you leaned in and crashed your lips against his own. Tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss lingered between the two of you more than it needed to, it was less rushed than the prior ones you'd shared.

Like a last taste.

"So, you still want to get that divorce?" Toji knew you would've just babbled whatever for him to keep going, saving the question until now. His movements were almost reluctant as he pulled his pants over his legs once again, making little attempt to fix up his hair. If anything, his fingers only ended up messing the strands even more. Despite knowing the answer deep down, Toji still held out hope. That maybe you'd had some eye-opening moment while he was balls-deep.

You stood up properly, looking over at the ruined sheets on the table before looking back over at him. "I do," you spoke after a couple seconds, grabbing your tattered panties from the floor and smoothing over your dress. Trying to maintain whatever semblance of dignity you had left. Even if it was probably just as tattered up as your underwear at this point.

"Why? You know I love you. You know that you love me. So why should we get separated?" You did know that. But you also weren't sure that he'd ever loved you enough to consider changing. To consider the fact that you needed some sort of affection outside of sex.

"Because you think that somehow every problem between us can be resolved with sex. You say that you want to do better and yet, you never do. It doesn't even feel like you're my husband half of the time," all the bottled up feelings from the past couple months spilled out of you in a manner of seconds. All the bottled up thoughts that maybe you should've told your husband about earlier. Though, you weren't even sure if Toji would've paid it any mind.

And almost as if he'd read your train of thought, "Why didn't you tell me about all this before just hittin' me with divorce papers?"

"Because the few times that I did, you told me to stop bitching. That I shouldn't have anything to complain about with a roof over my head and a fridge full of food," you started off, almost waiting for him to deny what you were saying, "And while I'm not saying that I'm not thankful for those things, I also don't want to feel ungrateful for saying that I miss my husband."

Silence lingered between the two of you, each second that passed by only confirming what the two of you already knew by now. That a divorce wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Toji knew there wasn't left to even attempt fighting for, so he simply just told you, "I'll sign 'em when you get the new ones."

[jaybirdluvr73]

You're my Best Friend (nanami kento x reader)

A longer fic version of this

Best friends to lovers with Nanami Kento. Fluff, a little tiny bit of angst but a Happy ending. Mild spoilers. Set in the early 2000s. I was thinking about what to call this and became inspired by the song "You are in love" by Taylor Swift

a/n: this is my first fic like this, i hope you guys like it. Feedback is super appreciated <3

"You're a…what?", you say in disbelief, trying to figure out if your normally level headed best friend has officially gone insane.

"A sorcerer", Kento says slowly, as if he hasn't fully accepted it either. "In the world, there's cursed energy and some people, sorcerers, are capable of using it. Usually to fight curses." 

Your mouth hangs agape as you wonder if this is some prank he's playing on you. But Kento has never lied to you before. (although he's never claimed monsters and sorcerers were real either.)

"I believe you", you say finally, to Kento's relief, "I mean this sounds completely insane but I trust you."

He finally cracks a small smile before frowning as he remembers something. "That's not all"

"What? Don't tell me aliens are real too"

"They want me to go to a school that trains sorcerers" he swallows before continuing, "in Tokyo"

You feel your heart stop as you realise that means you'll hardly see him anymore. Ever since preschool, the one constant in your life has been Nanami Kento. Sitting in class, eating lunch, walking home, no matter what you did or where you were, he was always by your side. 

You can't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him, you just remember waking up one day and knowing. Maybe it was when he would ask the teachers questions for you in preschool, or in elementary school when he tried to bake you a cake by himself for your birthday. It might have been when he started reading all your favourite books so he could talk about them with you or when he spent half an hour trying to win you a teddy bear at an arcade. You may not know when you fell in love with him but you do know that loving Nanami Kento came as naturally as breathing.

"Promise you'll come back to visit", you say, trying to offer a smile. He nods, swearing that he'll never break a promise to you.

Nanami Kento remembers the exact moment he fell in love with you. It was fourth grade and your tenth birthday was coming up. He spent days looking up recipes and baking tutorials so that he could bake you the perfect cake. He spent hours on it. By the time he finished, his mom joked that there was more flour on him than in the cake but it was worth it to see the look on your face when he sowed it to you. The cake didn’t turn out great, the layers were uneven, the frosting was grainy and the entire thing was lopsided. When you saw it, you immediately started tearing up. At first he started apologising because he thought it was so bad that it made you cry. But then you threw your arms around his shoulders smiling widely and told him that nobody had ever done something so nice for you before. From that moment he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making you smile like that. 

“- and  I put some of the new Fall Out Boy songs on the playlist too. The new album isn’t their best but”, you stop as you see a strange look on his face. “What’s wrong Ken?” 

“Nothing’s wrong it’s just,” he pauses then says, “You’re my best friend”

“The cheesecake was good but I think next time I want to try the brownie”, you say, shivering as you step outside the new bakery Kento brought you to. “I told you to bring a jacket, " he says, frowning while he takes off his sweater to give you. 

“I didn’t think it would be this cold!” you say trying to defend yourself as you tell him to keep his sweater on so he doesn’t freeze. “I’m not feeling that cold anyway”, he says as he forces the soft material into your hands. 

You put it on, closing your eyes as you feel the warm embrace of the fabric. “It smells like you”, you say before clarifying, “in a good way, I mean.” He just laughs and shakes his head before walking you back home. 

He laughs the same way years later, when you reveal that you slept in the sweater for a week, only stopping once it didn’t smell like him anymore. 

“Kento I know you’re in there!”, you shout, knocking on his bedroom door. “Your mom told me you were home.” He opens the door with a sigh before looking down at you and asking what you were doing here. As he gazes at you, you notice the deep eyebags that weren't there before, and a hardness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

“I’m here because my best friend disappeared! Because you haven’t responded to my texts, or IMs or emails for weeks and I needed to know that you were okay”

“Well you can see that I’m fine. Thank you for checking on me, but you can go now.”

“Fine? Really” , you scoff, pushing your way into the dark room. “You won’t talk to me, your parents told me that you barely say a word to them and you clearly haven’t been sleeping! I want to help you Ken. I want to be there for you but you keep pushing me away.” Your voice softens before you continue, “I know you and Haibara were really close. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now”

“Exactly, you don’t know how I’m feeling right now and I hope that you never do”, he yells , “I’ve seen what this life can do to people, I’ve seen the toll it takes on the people left behind. I could die at any moment while on a mission, and I don’t want you to have to feel that kind of loss! I love you too much to put you through that! It’s better this way.” 

“Better for who Kento? Because I’m already miserable without you and you don’t seem to be doing much better! I know that being a sorcerer is dangerous and that something could happen to you. But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than to live life alone, because you’re worried about what might happen?”, you feel tears welling in your eyes before you continue, “I’m in love with you Kento and I don’t care how risky your life is. I’m willing to face any amount of pain if it means keeping you in my life. I would rather have you, and risk losing you, than not have you and lose you anyway.”

Kento feels his world stop spinning as soon as the words ‘I’m in love with you’ spill out of your lips. His mouth hangs open as he tries to figure out what to say. The only words that he manages to get out are, “Can I kiss you” as he leans closer. You nod slowly as you move towards him. 

You can feel his breath tickle your face before his lips finally descend to capture yours. Something warm grows in his chest, like the first flowers of spring blooming after a long winter. The entire world around him disappears as he feels your soft lips dancing against his own. His hands move gently to cup your face as he deepens the kiss. You snake your arms around his waist, feeling the soft caress of his hands on your cheeks. Feelings left unsaid for years come bubbling up and overflows.

When you two finally break apart to breathe, you notice a familiar look in his eyes. And this time, you knew what it was. 

He is in love

a/n: I'm not a huge fan of the title banner i made but lmk what you guys think.

tag list: @jasminelee324

[lvrrgirlll]

Tolerate It (series)

Synopsis: Life as Patrick Zweig’s controversially young girlfriend should have been a dream, but it was anything but. He was a broken man. You were a girl who knew all too well. Who’s to say whether you’ve got it wrong now…

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Paring: Patrick Zweig x read

Word count: 1.4k

Content warnings: smut, p in v, age gap relationship, bit of fluff, eventual angst (there are hints so far but nothing crazy)

Notes: This is my first ever fic and I really don’t know how to feel about it so idk, take that as you will and hopefully enjoy!! :) (also this is like half proofread so forgive typos lol, I am but a lowly college student who is extremely busy 24/7)

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Part 1: Getting to know you…

2029:

Cameras flashed uncontrollably as you sat at one end of a small, round table, Patrick seated at the other. His hands were folded across the table as he hunched over. Yours were in your lap. The two of you were…distant, though not too perceptibly so to outsiders.

“Mrs. Zweig! A comment please, how do you feel about your husband’s retirement after such a long career?”

2019:

You first met Patrick in a particular stage of his life he’s not quite proud of looking back.

Patrick has matched with you!

Patrick: “Hey babe, wanna get dinner drinks tn?”

Patrick had begun to ask you to dinner, before remembering he had no money, and couldn’t afford dinner, especially on a date, since he’d be expected to pay. He sighed after sending you the message, moving to swipe on other unsuspecting victims.

Seeing his message immediately, you considered your options. As a broke college student, lonely and with endless loans to pay back…it wouldn’t be so bad to have a drink with a hot pro tennis player right about now. Closing your laptop, deciding your English paper could wait, you picked up your phone to reply right away, not caring if you seemed eager.

Y/n: “Drinks tonight…sure, when and where?”

Patrick was surprised to see a reply at all, but especially so quickly.

Patrick: “Ritz hotel lobby at 8? I can send you the address”

Y/n: “Works for me. See you then.”

Looking back, the date should have raised several red flags from the start.

Firstly, the fact that a 32-year-old professional tennis player wanted to get drinks with a barely legal college student was a surprise in and of itself. That’s completely barring the fact that, being 18, you obviously couldn’t drink legally, not that Patrick or the hotel bartender seemed to care. The entire date, Patrick eyed you like a piece of meat, his hands caressing your knee and inching up your thigh as you spoke about your major and he feigned interest. And it should have especially raised alarm when he kissed you roughly and suddenly, murmuring that you both should go back to your apartment. He was lucky you had decided to skip out on dorm life.

“‘D’you do this with every guy you meet,” he asked as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his toned abs.

“No…” you breathed out, catching your breath after feverish kisses while he unbuckled his belt. “You’re different. Special.” He smirked then, a wicked, boyish grin, as if he was in on something you weren’t.

“Oh honey, you don’t even know yet…I’m not special. M’nothing…not worth your time anyways, I mean…” he let out an airy whistle “look at you.” He froze then, looking you up and down as you had stripped your cute but casual dress off. You only giggled in response.

“M’gonna ruin you…” he murmured under his breath, eyes darkening as he stalked closer. When he was finally stood right in front of you, you reached up onto your tip toes to kiss him passionately, your hands exploring his unclothed torso as he reached to your back to unclasp your bra. You let him, happily helping him out and then continuing your feverish kiss, reaching for the zipper of his pants. “Someone’s eager…” he half chuckled in between kisses.

“You’re one to talk,” you quipped back, smirking up at him briefly before he moved to trail kisses down your neck and to your chest. He pushed you onto the bed gently (to his surprise —he usually wasn’t gentle with hookups like this), mouth moving to your chest as he licked and sucked at your taught nipples. “Patrick…” you whined. He smiled at the way you said his name. You looked so pretty right now…beneath him, all weak just for him…

He stood up, finally relieving himself from the constraints of his clothes, leaving only his huge erection perked up in his boxers. You were intimidated…it’s not like you hadn’t had sex before, but you didn’t know if you could handle him. “P- Pat…,” you cooed timidly, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

“What is it,” he questioned back.

“‘Dunno if it’ll fit…” you mumbled, a little embarrassed but concerned nonetheless.

“Oh, don’t worry baby. It’ll fit. We just gotta take it slow at first…I’ll make it fit.”

And he kept his word. Pulling your panties to the side, he ran one finger, then two, through your slick folds. “Already so wet for me…” he whispered, looking up at you. He brought his fingers to his mouth, then, tasting you in an ever so erotic display. “You taste good…if only I could wait tonight.” He pulled his thick cock out, pumping it in his big hands a few times before leaning over you. “You ready? You can do it, just gotta start slow.” He offered a reassuring look through the clear arousal that was taking over him. You nodded in response, which led him to tilt your chin up, making sure you held his gaze. “Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“I’m ready, Patrick…more than ready. I want you bad.”

After that, he wasted no time, slipping the tip in, then leaning in little by little, till you were full to the brim. He bottomed out, holding himself stagnant inside of you for a moment so you could get used to him. It was hard for him to get used to you, though. The way you were squeezing him with your warm walls had him feeling like a teenager again, about to cum in seconds. He composed himself, though.

“Gonna start moving now…is that okay?” He asked, genuineness seeping through. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different with you…

“Mhm…I can take it,” you whimpered back at him, eyebrows knitting together at the stretch to take him. He started moving, slow at first, but then he picked up the pace. “Feels so good,” you gasped, gripping the bed sheets tightly in one of your hands as you moaned. Patrick moved rhythmically between your thighs, thrusting in and out of you at a now very quick pace.

“Shit…you’re so good for me baby. You take me so well…fuck— so good for me.” Patrick muttered breathlessly as he somehow managed to quicken his pace, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier as he hit that spongy spot inside of you. You didn’t know what it was about him, but after this, you couldn’t imagine yourself with any other man…

“P- Pat -fuck- I’m gonna…gonna cum.”

His eyelids fell heavily over his eyes as he looked down at you, jaw slack and breath heavy. “Me too baby. Come on, cum for me…you can do it doll.” You felt that tightness in your stomach finally snap as you moaned loudly, cumming around him, leaving a wet, creamy ring around his cock. He continued to pump in and out of you for a few moments, still chasing his high, before his hips started stuttering, and he came without another word. He felt like he could collapse on top of you, but he didn’t want to hurt such a pretty little thing. He caught himself, just barely, propped up on the headboard before falling down next to you on the bed. “Night babe…” he mumbled, eyes closed, pecking your shoulder quickly before drifting off to sleep. That tenderness alone was enough to send you reeling, but luckily sleep took over after such a hard come down. You could worry about your feelings in the morning.

That night had been the best sex of your life. Of course, Patrick got what he had wanted all along: a warm body and a warm bed. He spent the night aiming to leave in the morning without a trace, but as he got up, you awoke.

“Hm…huh? Patrick?” You stretched, reaching to rub the sleep from your eyes. “W- were you leaving?” Your voice was earnest and gentle, a tinge of concern filtering through. Patrick felt a pang of guilt, then. He couldn’t do this to you…not yet anyways. You had been so good to him. So obedient for him. He knew he’d regret it later, but against his better judgment, he reached down, moving your hair from your forehead and offering a gentle peck.

“Just gotta get going for my match baby…I’ll call ya later. We can do something else, okay? Hm? I’ll be back, don’t worry. ‘M not going anywhere…” he reassured.

You nodded silently, smiling up at him as if he had hung the moon and the stars. He knew then when he saw that look in your eyes that this would become a problem…but like most of his other problems, he never knew when to quit.

[yuri-is-online]

Now I wanna know how Grim ranks the second years. Also I'm in pain from wisdom teeth removal

oh dear I have heard that really hurts, I hope you are ok!

The Great Grim's OFFICIAL Tier List: Take 2 (do not steal)

Riddle- 3/10. Grim likes Riddle a lot, but not in a "hench human should date him" sort of way. If Grim had the ability to understand dating beyond thinking it's cringe he would tell you he is concerned about how Riddle handles conflict and what that would mean for your relationship. He wants you to be with someone who will give you space to relax, and Rampaging Riddle isn't the best at that. Unfortunately, Grim isn't that articulate so he just says he thinks he's too short.

Ruggie- 6.5/10. Ruggie isn't someone Grim hates exactly? Sure you dating someone rich would be nice because then he could get better tuna, but the rich guys on this campus are kind of scary... the real problem with Ruggie is that he expects Grim to do his share of the work. And he isn't shy about how cute he thinks Grim's insistence that he is the one in charge, that stupid laugh will start haunting his dreams. At least the cooking is worth it.

Azul- 7/10. Grim knows he shouldn't trust Azul but he does sort of... look he likes what the sleazy Tako is selling alright? And once that sell starts turning towards a romantic relationship with you he will absolutely be a little shit trying to wing man for him with you. It's sort of pathetic watching how they interact, both of them are convinced they are outsmarting the other but really the only person who is winning here is you.

Jade- I am so happy for your ugly ass boyfriend/10. Grim would be very happy if Jade tripped and fell into a ditch somewhere. Unfortunately Jade is an eel so he would probably just swim out of it right back into your arms and fake cry about it. If he wasn't so scary he'd be a 0.

Floyd- 9/10. Grim and Floyd sort of get along? Or at least I think so, Floyd likes Grim and likes hanging out with him and Yuu. He's the most likely out of the octotrio to actually bribe Grim without some sort of trick or gimmick because he finds it funny to see just how many things the baby seal will eat. He misses a point because Grim doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of being perfect but that's ok, Floyd knows the truth c: (he's delulu)

Kalim- 9.5/10. Grim thinks Kalim is kind of stupid and keeps trying to feed him crackers, so he is a half point away from perfect but! Kalim has no problems spoiling Grim which is good enough for him. Most of the time, if he didn't have money Grim would have so many questions.

Jamil- 20/10. Jamil is cringey but he can cook. I think Grim probably would be happiest in the long run with the more "normal" guys and Jamil would probably end up being his favorite. He gets to eat good food, and while Jamil would still want him to work... work isn't something Jamil wants to govern his entire life so Grimmy would be very happy with Yuu's choice.

Silver- meh/10. I don't think Grim understands the appeal of someone like Silver tbh. If anything I think his blunt kuudere swagger scares the hoes, which includes Grim. Sure, Silver is pretty, but he also says some pretty fucking dumb things that make Grim wonder if he needs to be the smart one. Normally he'd love that but ah. He is starting to feel rather unqualified all of a sudden for some reason, are you sure you like this guy? What standard is he meeting exactly and can you maybe reconsider...

[anyroads]

How to actually support small businesses on Etsy

With Christmas approaching and people starting to look for gifts, I thought it might be useful to let people know how to best support Etsy sellers, since we get a lot of sales this time of year! Etsy has a lot of policies that affect sellers which they don't really disclose to customers, and often there's a communication gap that can be damaging to sellers without customers intending them to. Hopefully this post helps more people avoid this kind of thing.

A while ago Etsy implemented the Star Seller program. When you go to an Etsy store, you can see badges at the top of the page, denoting if the seller has done well in three main categories:

Speedy replies

On time dispatch with tracking

Good reviews

If you clear the bar for all three as a seller, you're a Star Seller. This is an important badge for sellers, which I'll get to in a bit. Etsy evaluates your stats monthly, and bases them on three months' worth of data:

Each has specific determining factors, which also advantage large operations like dropshippers over small businesses, but we'll get to that too:

As you can see, the criteria is really demanding. You have to respond to 95% of first messages (ie. the first time someone contacts you) within 24 hours or you lose your Star Seller status. This can be really damaging to a small store.

You also have to dispatch 95% of orders on time, ie. within the set timeline you've chosen for an item listed, and you have to give tracking info. This, by the way, is frustrating and disingenuous; I ship my product in envelopes because they're small and thin, but the mail service in my country doesn't offer tracking for envelopes. I'm not going to spend up to 3x as much on shipping just to have a tracking number (shipping would cost half the price of my product if I did), but if I don't include tracking info I don't get a Star Seller badge even if I ship all my orders on time. I get around this by writing "unavailable" in the field where tracking info goes, but this still poses a transparency issue to customers and rightly so. I end up compensating by issuing a lot of replacements for delayed orders, which I can recoup costs of through my mail service which is a lot of extra work and time.

You also must have an average of 4.8 star reviews or higher. There are no adjustments made for small stores, and this is a big one where dropshippers have an advantage.

As you can see in my stats here, I had 11 reviews in 3 months. That means if just one person gives me a 4 or 3 star review, I lose my Star Seller status for 3 months unless I get a ton more reviews quickly. A dropshipper who makes hundreds of sales a week won't be affected by one middling review. And you'd be surprised how often people who leave 3 or 4 star reviews actually meant to leave better ones but clicked the wrong button without noticing, or just don't understand how the system works.

Because Etsy doesn't explain this to customers. So people will leave a damaging review in perfectly good faith. The number of times I've gotten an "excellent product, would buy again!" review with 3 stars is astounding. I always message customers to ask what I could do better and explain the system, and the response is almost always that there was nothing wrong, they just usually don't give anything higher than 3 out of 5 stars unless the product radically improved their lives or was transformative (and to their credit, most customers change their reviews after this exchange but again, it takes time and effort).

3 stars is average, and what customers rate is their experience receiving and using a product. What Etsy uses these ratings to gauge, however, is whether a customer was satisfied dispatch timelines, craftsmanship, and if a product met the expectations set in the listing.

As an added bonus, Etsy hoses money off sellers by offering to advertise for them. The way this works is that if a seller opts in, Etsy will advertise their store in relevant searches on search engines like Google, and in exchange they take a percentage from any sales made from clicks on these links. And then some. Because if a customer clicked an advertising link once, then Etsy will keep taking that cut from any further purchases from that IP address. So if you click a Google link to an Etsy store and then purchase from that store, and then bookmark that store and go back six months later to get another item, Etsy will keep taking their advertising cut with each purchase you make.

Depending on whether or not you opt in to advertising, Etsy can take up to 30% of your earnings in fees alone. That means if I sell, say, bookmarks for $10, I only get to keep $7. Hopefully that covers my operating costs, but if I charge more for an item that takes me a lot of time and work to make, I have to factor in that Etsy offers free shipping on orders over $35 whether or not sellers agree to give it. So if I sell a product that costs $35, not only do I only get to keep $24.50 of what I was paid after Etsy takes fees, I also have to cover the cost of shipping. And if I'm selling a product for that much, it's likely shipping will cost $5-10, so now my profit is down to $15-20 for an item I sold for $35.

Why is the Star Seller status so important? Because it's the main way the average Etsy store gets onto the algorithm and has visibility, and without visibility you don't have sales. Drop shippers can afford to purchase advertising space, so they'll always show up in searches. They can also afford to have a variety of products, high-end professional photos of their products, and because they have a lot of sales, the occasional bad review or delayed shipment won't cause a blip on their rating system. In comparison, the average Etsy store who makes, let's say, 50 sales a month (and that's a small store that's doing well), is going to feel the impact of a handful of 4 star reviews and one day of delayed orders/message replies due to a family emergency. If you contact Etsy customer service to explain your legitimate reason for having a delay, they're unable to intervene. They can't give you back your Star Seller status, which means you're dropped from the algorithm for the three months it takes for those delays to stop counting towards your averages, and you then have to work your way back up into the algorithm once that time passes, which is even harder to do. (And while you can put up an auto-reply, there's a time limit on how long it'll be up, which is usually 24-48 hours. Which may not work if you have a personal emergency that the average small business would understand and give you time off for in ways Etsy refuses to accommodate.)

So what can you do to support Etsy sellers?

- Give good reviews. If you have problems with a product, message the seller and give them the opportunity to fix the problem or send a replacement/refund. Unless you feel the need to leave a scathing 1 star review, don't leave one unless it's a 5 star. Etsy counts anything under 5 stars the same as it does one star. (This goes for Amazon, Uber, Deliveroo, etc. too. Review kindly.)

- Message sellers during the week. It's harder to get to messages during the weekend, and not everyone remembers to put on their auto-reply.

- Don't click advertising links. If someone promos their Etsy store on their own social media account, it's fine. So if you click a link from an instagram profile or a tumblr post, that's fine. But if you see a link on Google or in a dedicated advertising space, even if it's a sponsored spot on Etsy, don't click on it. Instead, search the shop name on Etsy and go to it through that search. This way the seller won't lose more fees to Etsy.

[jiheiendonka7]

the mischaracterization of jun wu by western tgcf fans, an epidemic

to illustrate with a metaphor, jun wu resembles the duality of a crying-smiling mask. while most western tgcf fans already seem to overlook the smiling half completely, i notice a trend of reducing even the crying half into nothing more than “unadulterated hatred toward xie lian".

this often results in takes -- such as jun wu doing xie lian favours so he can make xie lian feel indebted or bestowing symbols of xie lian’s country to provoke painful memories -- that can only be explained with an "evil for the sake of being evil" tag on jun wu, takes that don't make sense when scrutinized within the context of jun wu's purpose.

so what was this guy's grand objective, anyway? he wanted xie lian to come to his side. (and to limit the scope of this discussion, we're not even going to open the pandora's box of the smiling side -- a yearning for validation of the crown prince of wuyong's dreams. that will be a post for another time.) honing in on the crying side, jun wu wanted xie lian to become the second white-clothed calamity, to agree that the common people suck, that they aren't worth saving, and that he should just give up on his dream.

what exactly does making xie lian feel indebted to him achieve? it's not like he expects xie lian to come to his side as a form of debt repayment. if the argument is that jun wu's actions aim solely to degrade xie lian or cause him suffering, this view feels like a significant mischaracterisation. jun wu isn't the type of antagonist who torments xie lian at every opportunity simply for the sake of cruelty.

likewise, reducing jun wu’s replication of the xianle palace to a mere attempt to inflict pain oversimplifies the nuances at play. the glamorous xianle palace stands in juxtaposition to xie lian's humble puqi shrine. i argue that jun wu sought to present xie lian with a tangible vision of why his path -- the path of grandeur and power -- was superior.

curiously, mxtx's pen name means "the smell of copper coins and the fragrance of ink" because she wanted to major in literature while her mother wanted her to pick economics, for the latter secured a more prosperous career. ultimately, they agreed on the best of both worlds, "holding a pen in one hand and coins in the other", the third path.

but jun wu had suggested that xie lian become his right-hand man (when preparing to greet the rain master), and from the deal he was willing to cut yin yu, we can infer that if xie lian really came to jun wu's side, he would've helped cover all of his crimes. they would pretend as if nothing had happened, just as jun wu did all these years, hiding behind glitter and gold, masking away all the decadence beneath the surface.

the gilded palace is a reflection of such a path. it's a reminder of what could've been -- if only xie lian kept "pleasing the gods", wearing the mask, turned a blind eye to the suffering. if only xie lian had chosen jun wu's path, the one beaten by so many who came before.

but that's inauthentic. that's not who xie lian is. xie lian rejects the mask because he wants to be himself. he'd rather live in shambles than accept the riches of the heavens, than choose coins with no soul. even if there is a wall straight ahead, xie lian will walk straight into it if that's where the third path leads, because he refuses to veer left or right, to choose either one of two (that's actually where the proverb that inspired the head-smashing scene originates from, by the way).

jun wu doesn’t act out of a simple desire to witness xie lian’s suffering. seeing xie lian in pain brings him no joy. after all, bai wuxiang once hugged him. half of what jun wu does serves to draw xie lian to his side, to mould him into the perfect successor who will follow his path. that, at least, is the crying half of jun wu's intent.

[natelikestowrite2054]

The Infection. Wanda Maximoff. Chapter 1

Wanda's not here. We are all that remains.

Summary: After a mission overseas, you return to the compound and meet up with Peter Parker. But something unknown attacks the base, and you soon learn who's behind the carnage.

Warnings: Infected Wanda, uneasy atmosphere, violence, suspense.

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoy reading this first chapter. There will be more to come.

You huffed as you dried hair after taking a well-deserved hot shower. Today had been grueling and unforgiving. The muscles in your body ached badly from the slightest bit of movement, and your eyes could barely stay open. But this wasn't a first-time experience for you. It was one you had done numerous times with the Avengers. The scars down your back, chest, and arms each held a story worth telling.

It had been over a year now since joining their team. A day that you'd never likely forget about. But unlike a majority of them. You didn't wear a suit of armor, possess secret powers, or have superhuman strength. No, you were a normal person, but not without the means to defend yourself. Your old life had taught you many lessons, and that was what aided you the day it all changed.

You neatly folded the towel and hung it over the heated rack. Sighing, you picked up your phone and opened it to check if Wanda had seen your messages. Two messages you'd sent half an hour ago had still gone unseen. Now you were getting worried. You typed up another message to send to her.

Wanda, I'm starting to really worry about you. You only said a few words to me or anyone when we left Sokovia, and then you suddenly disappeared as soon as we got back. If you need space, I understand, but please communicate with me. I love you so much, and I'm here for you. ❤️

Your mind pondered on the circus of theories as to what could've made Wanda so distant that she'd dissappear from everyone.

Did going back to Sokovia reawaken her painful memories? Should you have said more to comfort her? Was she planning on breaking up with you?

You snapped out of those delusional thoughts and exited the bathroom, switching off the lights and carrying your uniform over your forearm. The smell of fabric triggered deep memories of nostalgia from days long gone. You gently placed the outfit on the bed and searched for clothes for the evening.

Ding!

Your heart skipped a beat hearing the notification. You nearly stumbled forward, trying to get your leg through your sweatpants, hoping that Wanda had finally answered your messages. You scooped up your phone and opened to see it was a text message from Peter Parker.

Hey, I'm swinging in now. Meet you at the entrance?

Oh shit. You mumbled, realizing you had forgotten about your plans to hang out with Peter. You had been so overwhelmed with the stress of Wanda that you'd completely forgotten about tonight. It was something you'd planned out for some time, and you had been looking forward to it.

Peter wasn't a part of the Avengers, and that made it almost impossible for you two to see one another. You first met Peter when Tony Stark recruited him to help with a mission. Peter preferred to work alone and stick to being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. But the day you two met, there was an instant connection.

You ruffled your hair, trying to ease the sudden anxiety of forgetting the hangout. Reluctantly, you texted Peter back.

Sure, I'll meet you by the entrance.

A few seconds later Peter replied.

See you soon.

You pocketed your phone and fixed your hair after messing it up out of frustration. I suppose tonight wouldn't be so bad. After all, you were in need of a break after the eventful day. You walked out of the room into the hallway toward the elevator. Your fingers pressed the top button, and the doors grumbled open. You stepped inside and waited for the lift to arrive at the bottom.

Once you had arrived, you eagerly squeezed through the still-opening elevator doors. The anxiety and excitement of seeing Peter clashed inside you like swords on a battlefield. Your eyes caught him just walking in through the front entrance. He seemed to be struggling to stuff his mask into his jacket.

"Are you struggling a little bit there, Parker?" You snickered. "No, it just won't. Ah, I got it," Peter said. He turned to look at you only to be greeted with a tight embrace. Peter hugged you back, and you winced. "Oh, are you okay?" Peter gasped. "Yeah, I'm just sore from today. I'll talk about it later. But it's great to see you again, Peter. How have you-" An unwelcomed smell entered your nostrils, and you immediately asked, "Okay, why do you smell like pizza?"

Peter clearly embarrassed and turning red answered sheepishly, "Because I've been delivering pizzas."

"Wait, you're delivering pizzas now?" You asked almost a bit taken aback. "When did this start?" "Oh, I started a few months back," Peter told. A thought came to your mind and it made you snort. "Please tell me you've been swinging around in your costume when delivering them, oh please," you prayed. Peter smiled to hide his embarrassment as he admitted to it. You laughed, imagining how confusing it must look for New Yorkers seeing Spider-Man deliver pizzas. "Oh, my gosh, that's brilliant. I can imagine J. Jonah Jamerson is printing a front page for that one. Speaking of that, what happened to taking pictures of yourself for that knucklehead?" You asked, nudging Peter's side.

"I-I've still been doing that. The pizza delivery job is just some extra work." Peter explained. "How come?" You asked. "Well, it's just I've been a little bit behind on rent." Peter told.

"Do you need money?" You asked. "No, no, please, I can't take any of your money. I'll figure something out." Peter assured.

"Peter, if you need help, we -" Peter immediately dismissed your offer again. "No, it's fine, really. I have it under control." You breathed out through your nose to keep your sigh of frustration hidden. "Okay, but please, if you change your mind. We are all here for you."

"I appreciate it, Y/N, thanks." Peter thanked with a cute smile.

You pressed the button for the elevator doors to open. "Tonight, we're just going to relax and enjoy ourselves," you said. "Are you up for a movie and some board games?" "Sounds great, let's do it." Peter agreed. As you both entered the elevator, you pressed for the top floor.

"Is everyone here tonight?" Peter asked. You scratched an itch on your nose before answering, "Yeah, everyone's here. We recently got back from a mission in Sokovia." "Sokovia?" Peter repeated with a peak of interest dripping from his quirky voice. "Yeah, Wanda informed us of another Hydra base there," you explained. "Did you find out what they were doing there?" Peter inquired. "Not yet. We're still reviewing the data we saved before it was all wiped clean. But from what I could gather is that Hydra was running some kind of experiments."

"Experiments?" "What kind?" Peter asked. "Some kind of human testing. We were concerned about there being new super humans. But again, we won't fully know as half the data was destroyed when we began our assault."

"Mhm, so everything else is okay?" Peter asked. "Yeah, everything's... f-fine." You answered, not trying your best to hide the stress and worry for Wanda that was eating you like a cancer.

"Hey, you okay?" You glanced back up at Peter and stuttered with your explanation. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine just tired."

"Are you sure?" Peter asked again.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you whispered with a half convincing smile.

The mini screen in the corner of the elevator caught your attention. For some bizarre reason, the floor numbers seem to have frozen in time. But that's when you noticed the shift in Peter's expression. His eyes were wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Peter?" "Peter what's wrong?" You asked. Those few seconds felt like a lifetime time before Peter answered, "Y/N, something's wrong, something's -"

The elevator suddenly stopped.

You both froze in place, feeling the rumble of the elevator throughout your bodies. The lights from above flickered on and off until darkness followed. "What happened to the power?!" You exclaimed whilst frantically pushing the buttons on the panel. Nothing worked. Peter stepped toward the doors, prying his fingers in-between them. The young hero grunted with effort as he separated the doors. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Peter stepped out first, keeping his arm out in front of you in a protective manner. His eyes scanned the darkened hallway for any sudden movements.

"W-What's going on?" You muttered.

"Y/N, listen to me. There's something very dangerous nearby. Whatever it is, we need t-"

The thundering sound of clanging echoed through the floors above. You looked up toward the ceiling, listening to the deafening noises. But what came next was unlike anything you'd heard before. A loud screeching roar beyond human capability, and it made every hair on your body stand up. You started to hyperventilate, feeling the vibration of it throughout your body. "W-What was..." You choked out through your panicked breaths.

"Come on!" Peter exclaimed as he shoved the staircase door open. You raced after Peter with the adrenaline, igniting and fueling your body like a soldier charging onto the battlefield. As you climbed the stairs, the sound of gunfire and yelling was growing louder with every step. "Come on, Y/N!" Peter yelled from above. "We're almost at the top!" You leaped up the last set of stairs when you heard the screeching of Peter's shoes. You halted thinking Peter had come face to face with what was responsible. But as you looked up, there was nothing but what remained of the stairway door.

You slowly stepped up onto the walkway and inspected the scene of the crime. The door had been torn apart from the center and pulled inward. But what caught your eye made your heart skip a beat. Carved deep into the metal of the door appeared to be the workings of something with sharp claws.

"What could've done this?" You whispered.

Peter unzipped his grey jacket and swiftly took it off, revealing his tightly red and blue fitted costume. You turned away to look back at the door and bravely decided to investigate further. "Y/N, wait." Peter warned. You ignored it and squeezed through the gap in the door. Once you were through, your eyes gazed upon more of the same claw marks on the wall. Following the trail lead, you down the blackened hallway where the doors leading to the living room had been ripped clean off.

"Peter." You quietly called. Peter emerged through the gap and saw the carnage before him. "Oh my God." Peter gasped with wide eyes. "Okay, Y/N, I need you to listen to me. You need to get out of here and call Nick Fury. I'll go and investigate." Shaking your head, you argued, "No, I'm not leaving you here." Peter stepped closer and put both his hands on your biceps with a firm grip. "Y/N, please just listen to me. Whatever did this is dangerous. I sensed it before the power was cut. I can't let you get hurt." Again, you shook your head, ignoring Peter's reason. "I can't let you face this alone, I won't run knowing I could've done something." "Y/N it's too dangerous, and you don't have anything to protect yourself with," Peter pointed out.

"I'm staying." You repeated arrogantly.

Peter stared into your eyes. His expression was mixed between frustration, anger, and worry, knowing he couldn't change your mind. Peter pulled down his mask and repeated, "Okay, but promise me that the moment something happens to me. You save yourself. Promise me."

"I promise Peter." You answered confidently.

Peter nodded, and you both started to move cautiously toward the living room. He kept his arm out in front of in a protective manner. Anxiety made your hands clamy, and your heart thumped loudly in your ears as you entered the room.

Your eyes scanned the darkened area. There was no sign of anybody. Glass was scattered all over the floor, the couches and TV were tipped over, pieces of Tony's equipment broken and discarded like trash. Even one of the large windows had been shattered. It was like a battlefield. You continued following behind Peter with sweat dripping down your face like raindrops. When you felt something underneath your foot. You lifted your shoe off the object only to see it was a gun.

Natasha's gun.

You scooped up the pistol and checked it only to find the weapon had been completely emptied. Whatever Natasha was trying to bring down didn't surcome easily to bullet wounds.

Peter's eyes surveyed the area in front of him when he suddenly felt his spidey sense trigger drowning out his footsteps that came to a hault. You felt Peter's hand grab your shirt in a bone crushing grip. He whispered in a low tone, "Y/N, don't move." You froze like a statue, not daring to move another muscle.

Peter's breathing was shallow. His sharp spidey sense ringed loudly. Peter desperately searched for the threat, but there was nothing but the darkness that swallowed you both like a nightmare. The young hero needed to concentrate on where the threat was and quickly. Peter took a deep breath in and let it out. All went quiet. Peter's spidey sense homed in on the danger, and he moved his two fingers to the center of his web shooter before whispering the bone-chilling word.

"Run."

Peter shoved you out of the way. Emerging from the darkness were a pair of long tendrils that grabbed ahold of Peter's wrists and ankles like an octopus seizing its prey from within its lair.

You landed hard on the ground, crazing your cheek on the broken glass. Turning your head, you saw Peter pinned against the wall by the long, dark tendrils. Suddenly, one of the tendrils perked up and lunged toward you. Just as it was about to snatch your ankle, it was yanked back by one of Peter's webs. "Run, Y/N, RUN!" Peter groaned out.

You quickly stood to your feet and sprinted out of the room toward the stairway door. The sound of Peter's yellling traveled through the walls and followed you like a haunting spirit of mockery. The thought of what that monster was doing to Peter was too much bear, but you couldn't stop. You had to escape whilst Peter held it off.

The last flight of stairs was just below you now. You wasted no time and leaped down them, landing on your two feet. Grunting, you pushed the door open and sprinted toward the exit. You could make out the sight of the far-off street lights through the glass windows above the front door. Freedom was just ahead you could almost taste it.

Suddenly, you stopped hearing a loud rumble from above. The ground shook like an earthqauke was unfolding. Your eyes followed the sourace above when the ceiling collapsed, forcing you to retreat. You helplessly watched as Peter fell through the rubble. He reached out to fire a web to save himself, but it was too late. Peter crashed onto the title surface, cracking it. His body went limp as he laid trapped underneath a pile of rubble.

"Peter!" You cried.

You ran to Peter's side. But stopped upon seeing a dark shadow land in front of you and to your horror you saw it was...

Wanda.

No, it couldn't be. But it was indeed her. The right half of her body was consumed by a black and red substance that stretched all across the right side of her body like torn clothing. But the most disturbing feature was the right side, her mouth littered with rows of sharp fang like teeth.

You turned to flee. But Wanda was too fast. She raised up her right arm, and the black and red goo stretched across her hand like multiple streams transforming into a long tendril. It attacked with incredible speed and wrapped tightly around your throat. You kicked and squirmed as the oxygen supply to your lungs was cut off.

Wanda slowly turned you to face her and pulled you uncomfortably close to her face. Her wide pupils stared deeply into yours like a vengeful demon. "W-Wanda." You choked out in a pleading tone. The cold, slimey tendril tightened like an anaconda. All you heard leaving Wanda's lips was a chuckle that echoed through your ears.

As your world began to turn dark, you continued to thrash desperately, trying to break free, but you slowly felt yourself scumming to the sleep.

"Sweet dreams, little lamb."

[ryuzakemo128]

We're All Gonna Die - Part 2

Pairing: Poly 141 x Boomer

Content Warnings: Boomer is the female reader, third-person perspective, philosophical questioning, self-esteem issues (Female Reader), mention of deceased father.

Note: I have been thinking a lot about stuff and things. If you want to comment your own thoughts on any posed philosophical questions, please feel free to do so.

Masterlist - Part One

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary: Boomer does some more deep critical thinking about what it means to be a woman.

“I don't know what to tell you other than I don't know what to think. Part of me thinks is this all it is? To put into an amount of effort into making yourself seem likeable to someone who wouldn't give you the time of day if you appeared to be someone they don't like to see?” Boomer questioned with a furrowed brow, pacing back and forth in front of the couch.

“If they don't see me as a woman. Then what does that mean for the rest of me exactly? Does it mean that I'm not enough for them? Why do I need to change in order for someone else to like me? Why do I need to alter myself in order to gain a career?”

“When a woman has a deeper toned voice like myself, people automatically assume I'm either trans without any prior knowledge or see it as some form of excuse to say I'm not a 'real woman'. I don't know what to think half the time because it feels like I'm talking to a brick wall half the time.”

“How long have you been thinkin about this?” John raised an eyebrow at the giant pacing around the coffee table like it suddenly became a tightrope over a pool of lava. Boomer's frustration was palpable, and John knew she had a right to feel that way. They'd all faced their fair share of prejudice in the military, but she had the extra hurdle of being a giantess with a deep voice that didn't match the typical damsel in distress.

“Well, my voice particularly? Since I turned sixteen. Just shy of a year off when I enlisted in the ADF at seventeen. So at least eighteen years. Almost nineteen years. Before you ask. The jokes about me a subpar and barely worth taking interest in.” Boomer paused to pick up her cat, Whiskers. Who came in from a long nap.

“And I don't exactly talk about it because why would I? I don't want to seem like I'm 'whinin' or 'complainin'. And I don't want to exactly want people to speak about it behind my back, either. Like, if you have an issue with how I am, why can't you just tell it to my face? Why are you bein a coward? Do you understand what I mean?”

Boomer stared directly at him. Wondering if she had taken a step too far this time.

John nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “I get it, Boomer. And it's bullshit.” He spoke with a firmness that made it clear he wasn't just saying it to placate her. “You're more than enough. You're a kick-ass soldier with brains to match. You've got a heart of gold, and you're loyal to a fault. And as for the voice, it's part of what makes you unique. Fuck 'em if they can't handle it.”

The conversation wasn't brought up again. Which, for someone like Boomer? It felt more of a relief rather than a hindrance. Though, when John heard a comment about Boomer's voice being unattractive? The gloves were off.

Was this one of the many reasons why she has never been on a date before?

What does it imply?

What notion does it implicate?

For all her eccentricities, she's still a person of her own making, and to imply she is less than other females around her? It seems like the bias is leaking into her work life. Othering her in some form of justification to keep her from dating completely? Is her genetics any less worthy than their own?

What does it mean to be a woman when the people around her seem to perpetuate a biased notion of what a woman should be?

Simon decided to plan a date with Boomer. He had taken it on himself to take Boomer out on a date.

If no one else wanted her? Then tough shit.

He's claiming his prize no matter what someone thinks of how she appears to be on the outside.

He hatched a plan with the rest of Task Force 141.

A plan began to take shape. To take form.

As Boomer boiled eggs as what she loved to call a 'light snack'. Which was more like a meal. Her appetite remained incredibly large because of the combination of her training needs and her high metabolism.

Now she stands inside the kitchen. Completely unaware of the plan forming under her nose.

[arget-star]

This was SUPPOSED to be just a short lil thing and then I realized I can’t shut up. A continuation of this that somehow ended up at 1.3k

In which Sakura teaches you the beginnings of self defense

Cw: none! Just fluff and the obligatory Sakura teasing

“I’m not punching you,” you tell him stubbornly, hands planted on your hips. Sakura snorts in agreement.

“No, you won’t. Just throw one, will ya? I’m tryna teach you the basics, that’s all.”

Ugh, he’s so annoying sometimes. You huff, then release your hips, curling your fingers into loose fists. You know you won’t actually cause him harm—he’ll dodge anything you toss his way. It’s the principle of the thing that bothers you; everyone in Sakura’s life leading up to Furin did whatever they could to hurt him. Logically, you know this isn’t close to the same thing. Yet standing here, now, with the intention of aiming your knuckles directly into face…it’s harder to reconcile your emotions with good sense.

Sakura, oblivious to your internal struggle, gestures to your hands. “C’mon, defend yourself.” Perhaps he’s a bit more in tune with your emotional state than you realize; he sounds like he’s making a conscious effort to be patient.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you comply, trying to copy the easy way he raises his own fists. Your shoulders are practically by your ears, and you feel too stiff, but at least your thumb isn’t tucked underneath your knuckles and your body is at a slight angle. Heterochromatic eyes assess you; it still baffles you, how anyone could see something so beautiful and immediately try to snuff it out.

He steps closer, placing his palms atop your shoulders. “Relax,” he murmurs, gently pushing down until he’s satisfied. “You’ll make yourself sore bein’ all tense like that.”

Honestly, you’d expected him to be a little gruff, given how he’d spiraled over your lack of self defense skills last week; this surprising tenderness is welcome. In fact, you do relax, some of your nerves melting away as he takes a step back.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he gives you a look you would call bored if you didn’t know better. His eyes flash with hidden excitement. The thrill of a fight—even teaching the mechanics of one—runs through him.

It’s cute, really, and you bite your bottom lip on a smile. Now’s not the time to tease him.

“Alright. Front hand, go.”

You stare at him. His cheeks no longer tinge pink whenever you do so, and privately, half of you mourns the loss. The other half is proud he’s growing more comfortable with your relationship. Inhaling through your nose, you tighten your fist, then unleash it straight for his nose with a sharp jab of your elbow.

Naturally, it doesn’t land. Sakura easily leans away, black eyebrow raising with a meaning you can’t quite discern. Is he impressed? Disappointed? “Too obvious where you wanted to punch. Couldn’t keep your eyes off my nose.”

You retract your arm, poking your tongue out at him. “Don’t I get a well done for my first attempt?”

Now a faint blush spreads atop his cheekbones. You don’t bother hiding your smile. He looks away with another scoff. “It wasn’t bad. Now stop teasin’ me! Ya wanted to learn, didn’t ya?”

Well, this had been his idea, one you readily agreed to if only to soothe his anxiety, but you refrain from pointing that out. A small glow of pride blooms in your chest instead; he praised you, in his own way, and that’s worth enduring a few of his prickly outbursts. “I did.” Truly, after you’d said yes to this, you realized just how much you did want to learn, especially to see the look of surprise on some jerk’s face the next time they tried hitting on you. Hardly anyone expects the girls in this town to defend themselves.

Sakura puts you through a dozen or so punching drills, correcting everything from how you twist your hips to how to best hold your other fist up while punching. Once he’s finally satisfied you’ve got the basics down, he stands in front of you again, looking completely unruffled. Meanwhile, strands of hair have come loose from your ponytail, hanging limply around your face. You flick away a particularly annoying piece dangling across your nose.

His pointed chin dips in silent go ahead. You’re prepared, this time. Mostly. You know where to focus—forward, but not lasered in on any one thing. Another inhale. You’re about to throw it, even have your hips half twisting, when a sudden idea strikes you.

“Wait, wait, hang on—can you pass me my sweater, please?” Oh, he’s going to be so mad. It will be absolutely worth it, if you can pull this off. Indeed, Sakura looks at you like you’ve gone crazy, but he still stomps over to the park bench you’d draped your sweater over earlier, picking up the garment with all the inherent gentleness everyone refuses to see in him.

“Tch, you can’t stop and ask for your sweater in the middle of a fight! You cold or somethin’?”

“Something like that,” you reply, fighting back a grin with every ounce of self control in your body. His fingers brush against yours as he passes you the sweater. He gives you another look, assuming his former position while you slip your arms into the soft material. Once situated, you resume your fighting stance, all trace of mirth gone from your expression. “Alright, take this!”

It’s a good punch, all things considered. You remember everything he told you, and you barely hesitate as you watch your hand inch closer to his (pretty) face. Sakura neatly sidesteps it, though not before you notice the approving little curve to his lips. Triumph makes the prideful glow inside your chest glow sunshine bright.

However, instead of throwing your arms up in success like he anticipates, you grab the lapels of your sweater and give it a little tug. “And that’s why I can’t stand weaklings,” you intone, in your best impression of Sakura, complete with a self-satisfied smirk.

The real Sakura tilts his head, confusion flickering across his face—and then it hits him.

Las night, you’d accompanied him and his vice captains to dinner at Café Pothos. Suo and Nirei, in clear disregard for their lives, had regaled you with tales of his first few fights with Bofurin, off-base impressions included.

His ensuing blush is a brilliant shade of crimson. You do feel a slight twinge of guilt; you’ll have to make it up to him somehow.

He takes a step back, launching an accusing finger in your direction. “I do not sound like that! ‘Nd I told ya to stop makin’ fun of me!” Notably, he makes no defense about the jacket tug. (You find that particular quirk of his incredibly endearing.)

Despite your best efforts, you can’t help the laughter bubbling up in your throat. Were it anyone else, it’d make him angrier, enough that he’d knock them out cold. But it’s you, and you’re murmuring out apologies in between peals of mirth, and well, he’s never able to stay mad at you. Sakura stands down, lowering his finger, unamused as you gather yourself. That glower of his is rather impressive.

“I couldn’t resist,” you finally say, giggle fit over. Stepping into his personal space, you drape your arms around his neck, curling a finger around a strand of hair. “Sorry, Haru. I promise you look way cooler than that.”

“How do you know, huh?” Sakura returns your hug, tugging you closer, until you’re flush against his chest. Incredible that only a week ago you were apologizing for calling him Haruka, and now his nickname flows so easily off your tongue, like you’d been saying it for years. He wonders, not for the first time, what his life would have looked like if he’d met you earlier.

“’Cause. I have seen you fight before. And you’re the strongest in Bofurin.”

Sakura rests his chin atop your hair. One day, he will be, and he knows it’ll be because you’re by his side.

[redsea8me]

Is kinda my first time asking smth like this but I'm love your art sm(I mean it.) I'm start shipping soundchet after see some of you soundchet post

Ok the point is I really like your tfe Ratchet and Soundwave dynamic so much, I want to ask if you may have something about them meeting the Malto family like..

First time meeting terrans(Not soundwave first time lol.) Like Ratchet first time learning about this half cybertronian, I'm kinda think she mistaken them for cons and try to offline them or something

Or idk, I just being delusional here like being honest I just want to know more about her and her interaction.

Anyway, thank you for the good plot and design. I love hater Ratchet that will shoot any con she see.

oh my goodness thank you, I’m glad you like my art and my silly ship ❤️

But for meeting the Maltos, she actually shows up in Soundwaves ep to help in the fight and to essentially round them up to get the hell out of there, so she catches a glimpse of them and interrogates the cassettes about them once they’re safe

she’s very curious about them, bc like 1, she’s still a doctor, and those are children, and she knows the Autobots don’t have anyone to do proper check ups bc that’s HER and 2, weird ass random kids popping up?? In the middle of nowhere??

so safe to say she’s very curious lol

I think the time they actually meet is when they’re raiding an energon depot (I like to think that GHOST has multiple hidden depots) and Bumblebee + the Terrans were closest so they decided to just go for it, when they show up to stop them I like to think it almost turns into a full blown fight before Ratchet shuts the whole thing down and it becomes a very impromptu check up for the Twitch and Thrash (and it is SO tense)

it gets very…. judgemental on Bee’s end, and there’s a bunch of snide comments shot on both ends, bc like, if you hate the ‘Cons so much why are you teamed up with one? Why would abandon me us? Man they’re on a mission to fucking kill Op and Megs, you’re in the way

because of the sort of agreement, they get 2 cubes of energon and the Terrans get a full bill of health and they get to leave

so yeah, no attack on Ratchets end bc she can tell they’re kids and she’s a doctor first and foremost (I like to think other meet ups w/ the Terrans make her wonder if revenge is actually worth it, and SW is wondering if it’s worth it bc Ratchet isn’t all bad)

[oh-no-its-bird]

!!! omg additions I am falling over myself @ you rn actually

I think they first find out ab the massacre from Sasuke, and its like a huge shock but they dont have a reason to not believe his story about Itachi being the perpetrator-- especially because no one has actually mentioned Itachi's age, so to them he's painted as just this mystery monster figure

There are a lot of monster's in early konoha, Hashirama and Madara are some well known ones, and it's not too much of a stretch for them to believe that one strong enough to wipe out his entire clan might exist

(Later on they meet Itachi and the Nara, Shiruka, is squinting in the bg counting on her fingers before squinting even harder and muttering, "13...??" From there, suspicions start to bloom)

Actually I think their outsider POV on Itachi is so fun-- they do not know the guy and Sasuke is totally building up the mythos so hard rn, even just by silently hating him so furiously.

The early konoha babs are speculating so hard ab what he must be like, they finally find a bingo book and all crowd around it to squint at the man who wiped out the Uchiha and are a little shocked that he's so young

they come from an era where clan is everything, even more so than it is now, so Itachi really did do the ultimate evil in their eyes. They are disgusted !!

(and when they inevitably find out the truth, oh man)

I think overall they're kind of terrified/disgusted by the fate of the clans. They're ofc heavily biased due to, again, clans being everything in their time. They've only been in Konoha for like, 3 or 4 years now, so they're kind of being confronted with both the pros and cons of the village in an era where they've clearly prospered-- but at a steep price.

Mmmm discussions ab if its worth it,, snaps of "Easy for you to say, your clan still exists!" time spent traveling between villages marveling about how easier it is, when the land isn't divided into factions,, overall admiration for the many little ways the villages have clearly benefited overall society while still acknowledging the heavy toll and power they now hold over their own "normal" ways of life,,,,

KAKASHI BEING SENT ON THE WORST RETRIEVAL MISSION OF HIS LIFE MY BELOVED, HE WANTS TO GO HOME AND SLEEP FOR A YEAR

This entire month is officially in the rankings for some of the worst months of his life. Not the worst. Never the worst. That can't be beat. But man, it somehow just keeps getting worse.

He's going insane actually bc where did these people come from? How does he have any clan left? He knows nothing of the Hatake, his dad died before he could be taught anything substantial about his clan, so this is a lot for him on multiple levels.

I think we deserve a scene where he catches up to him and he and the Hatake fight, but like half playful and while talking ab clan things the entire time.

It's weirdly friendly, and the twins keep trying to guess who his parents were and if they know them. Kakashi finally drops it was Sakumo and they go a little insane bc omg !!! That must make you our future clan head that's soooo cool!! (Sakumo was the son of the previous clan head, but the clan died when he was too little to receive the title of heir and he never took up the mantle-- he possibly never even knew he was meant to)

Kakashi did NOT know this information and will need a few days to process. Thanks.

Kakashi really is like catnip to the time travelers actually, they are harassing Sasuke for information about him as Sasuke goes ??? why do you want to know ab HIM???

I think Kakashi gets sent to try and capture them with a team but they should totally get to like. Capture him instead, somehow. His orders were vague enough that he can go "well. I mean. contact established successfully, so...?" and allow this to happen (before eventually escaping)

OROCHIMARU ACCIDENTALLY TRICKING HIMSELF INTO CARING IS MY FAVORITE THING EVER!!!

I think they'd have a very hard time of doing this especially since he's near the height of his insanity here, but I mean, if nothing else they really do have the ultimate distraction-- a long lost cousin with ties and extensive stories of Orochimaru's own long dead clan, and also literal time travel, which I'm sure Orochimaru will be all over

Orochimaru treating them like cows before a slaughter is so good actually, thats a perfect way to allow him to care somewhat while still having his own goals, love that!

I need Orochimaru hating bugs comedy just bc Orochinatsu really really likes them, and will often spend hours watching them. They're both making a face and quietly going maybe we arent related after all...? While also looking near identical

Jealous Kabuto is so funny, I love that idea. HES Orochimaru's special little guy, where tf did this long lost cousin of his come from?? I think he should get to have a positive interaction with Orochinatsu and, bc he looks similar to Orochimaru, have an instinctive positive reaction to him before getting really mad ab it bc his brain keeps sending mixed signals of Orochimaru is being nice to you! Wait, no, fuck, it's the other guy >:(

I think the Hatake twins would be a big fan of Suigetsu and Jugo actually, they are chaotic and like to fight and I wish to see ✨friendship✨

Haru, who is genuinely kind of mean and also a fan of violence, thinks Suigetsu should get to have murder, as a treat

Hiro, who is the one who got them into this mess by tampering with the time travel seal, finds Jugo super interesting and may or may not poke him with a stick at first to see what happens and if he goes crazy. Umm something something wolf clan something something animals liking Jugo something something idk is there anything there? That could be kinda funny

If all the time travelers are getting to bond with a member of team Taka then I think Shiruka and Karin should get to interact too. Shiruka is not a mednin and knows only basic first aid but she doesn't need to know any of that to be impressed with the advancements of the future, and I think Karin would appreciate having a captive audience interested in what she has to say

THEM PICKING UP NARUTO IS ALSO FUNNY BC LIKE. They. Do not know what a jinchuriki is. Chakra beasts are legends to them, but also they live in an era where yokai are widely accepted to exist (and probably do, considering chakra beasts also do)

Madara hasn't betrayed the village yet in their time, the kyuubi hasn't been sealed in Mito yet, their interactions with yokai is one of fear and respect they are taught to consider daily

If you tell them Naruto is a jinchuriki, you will recieve blank stares.

If you tell them he is a vessel of a demon fox you will receive a mixed reactions of leaning away cautiously going "someone put a DEMON in that guy? Why???" and leaning forward curiously saying the exact same thing

Oh god, Kakashi's sharingan

Bloodline theft was THE ultimate no-no taboo of the warring states era, they're going to react very badly to it. Someone better explain the situation (someone other than Kakashi tbh, bc they can't reliably believe the word of a bloodline thief to explain that he's innocent. Of course he'll say he's innocent!) to them or else Kakashi is at risk of someone attempting to gouge his eye out for justice on the Uchiha's behalf

@ohai-there YEAHH THEY LITERALLY CAME OUT OF NOWHERE THERE ARE SO MANY QUESTIONS

Maybe if they'd just asked where they came from nicely they'd have answered 💅

Konoha teams sent after them (including Kakashi) finally catch up and Kakashi asks and they just straight up go "Huh? Oh time travel, yeah, wild right?" And Kakashi just. Does not believe them. Assumes he's being fucked with.

Incredibly self indulgent 'early konoha kids get zapped into canon right after Hiruzen is killed' au..... save me incredibly self indulgent 'early konoha kids get zapped into canon right after Hiruzen is killed' au ,,,,

This is so stupid but I'm embracing the cringe.

POV a Nara an Orochi and 2 Hatake twins fuck around and find out with one of Tobirama's seals (that one of the Hatake's definitely stole) when they really really shouldn't and get zapped to Konoha

Immediate glaring problem: the Orochi clan is incredibly recognizable. They all look very similar. And Orochimaru is the only one left in modern era and also just killed the Hokage in front of a fuck ton of people, like, last week. And is also a known body hopper so any minor differences in appearance can be very easily waved away.

They don't even realize smthn went wrong at first bc they were fucking around way on the outskirts of town to avoid being caught playing with things they shouldn't, and when they return to town they take the back ways around so they don't even notice the new buildings n stuff

They all just kinda shrug and call it a day after the seal explodes on them (and poke at the Hatake who's genius idea it was to play with the seal, who is also the only one of them currently throwing up in the grass due to the seal backlash) and split off to go home

"Did it hurt?" Haru cheerfully prodded his brothers cheek with his finger. "Do you feel sick?" He gave him another poke. "Do you feel stupid?" At this poke, Hiro let out a low grumble. "You look pretty stupid."

Only, in going home, the Hatake's return to a ruined, falling appart clan compound that suitably freaks them out

The Nara to a house that looks somewhat the same (with some changes to the garden) but has a new family in it who yells at her in confusion when she apparently breaks in and chases her away

And the Orochi, the only one of them to go run errands before heading home, is immediatley mistaken for Orochimaru and tackled by like 10 ANBU agents at once while trying to buy groceries (the weeping shopkeep is very relieved. The Orochi meanwhile, is very confused)

Prison break time !! The Nara and Hatake twins very messily break out their friend, who then refuses to leave without retrieving their gourd, which was taken to evidence (and is an important clan artifect and weapon) so the escape gets even messier

They may have tried to clear up any misunderstandings but that was before their Orochi buddy got put in prison under threat and schedule of torture, so they decide to fuck off from the village in hopes of creating some distance

(There's a lot of conflict on Konoha's side, behind the curtains and higher up, from some who had interacted w Orochinatsu, who do not believe them to be Orochimaru. And those who interacted w them and do. And Danzo, who wants them dead and or in his hands either way, who is also kind of in charge rn bc Sarutobi's fucking dead)

So they retreat real hard and real fast and knock right into Sasuke actually, who's in the middle of trying to defect to sound.

Oh also it's to note that the warring states guys are all 17-18, so they (read:the Hatake twins) see Sasuke and are like "oh the ittle baby wishes to commit treason? That's so cut— whO taught him that ????? (Chidori) WHY CANT I DO THAT I WANT TO DO THAT ???????"

Anyways they somehow join Sasuke on his little trip to sound— They hear Orochimaru and think of the Orochimaru of their time (the name is a title passed down through Orochi clan heads) and they also, now somewhat aware of the time travel, think of the (literal this time) baby Oro they occasionally babysit together, and who is Orochinatsu's baby cousin (who is, yes, the Orochimaru of this time)

They get to Sound and Orochimaru is like "???? Ayo ????" for MULTIPLE reasons, this entire thing fascinates him

Omg Sasuke u brought him a gift ?? Ur such a good guest!

Unfortunately for them tho, Orochinatsu is also like. Literally the most perfect body he could ask for, actually. They look really similar, the kid is young and strong and healthy, plus also very talented (annoyingly to the others, one of the most skilled among their generation in early konoha) they already have a snake contract, and best of all they're literally directly biologically related to Orochimaru, which could seriously help the body snatching procedure, etc.

Unsure where it goes from there, they might tuck Sasuke under their arm and book it, maybe even promise to help w his Itachi problem, idk I'm just having fun spinning around in circles in a chair daydreaming ab silly stupid oc time travel aus

Staring at a wall telling myself to embrace the cringe ,,, I earned it,, tis my birthright to make unasked for naruto oc content ,,

[asiananeurysm]

😬I feel bad for only staying half an hour late lmao. My brain was starting to melt though so at least I got a few extra things done?

[rcmclachlan]

Trademark: Top-tier Bucktommy writer + generally Cool + getting Buck pregnant

Thank you + thank you + thank you!

[s0fter-sin]

i have no stake in this whatsoever since i’ve never even watched good omens and absolutely 100% unequivocally think it’s a good thing that an abuser is seeing the consequences of his actions but i don’t really see the point in shortening the 3rd season? rewriting it so he doesn’t get money from it? yes absolutely, but if that’s the reason, why not delay the season and do a full six episode rewrite? or just cancel it altogether instead of an inevitable disappointing finale. he’ll still be receiving royalties from the first two seasons and whatever ideas they use for the episode plus whatever he’s already contracted to receive so making a short season feels like it’ll impact the cast and crew more than him; they won’t be paid for a full season of work that they were expecting to have in an increasingly unstable industry

[anemcia]

Silence fell between them for several reasons: From digesting the Saiyan's words cautiously to being ever mindful not to shoot a ki blast through their intruder's skull... At least not before he finishes this meal.

Had Mr. Satan spun a false tale about his battle with Cell? Honey could easily see that. After all, the mainstream media often distorts or omits key details to maintain a certain narrative, especially if it's meant to uphold the image of Earth's so-called greatest hero. Now that Goku mentioned it, she faintly remembered seeing someone in a familiar orange gi confront Cell—yet the raw footage was practically useless, marred by heavy grain, blurs, and distortion.

Any footage beyond what aired has vanished into the annals of time, fueling conspiracy theories. Many online skeptics argue the Cell Games were nothing but a charade—a ratings stunt filled with actors and special effects. Mr. Satan himself spouted such claims during the battle. Yet, reality is often stranger than fiction, especially with the living proof lurking on her property. If Cell was real, then Goku must have been entangled in that chaos from the beginning. His reaction adds up, and it makes her feel a lot worse than she already did. What kind of horrors did he witness? She almost doesn't want to know.

Honeydew nervously sipped her water, stealing a glance at her teacher where he had pointed. The Bio-android, wearing an unsettling expression, remained motionless, his silent eating adding to the tension. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. Was he holding himself back to prevent a deadly confrontation, merely tuning out of the conversation to focus on his meal, or a mix of both? For what it was worth, she had to count her blessings, meager as they were.

Upon hearing his last question, she suddenly choked on her drink, descending into a brief coughing fit as she struggled to regain composure. The question felt incredibly sudden, causing her features to redden with embarrassment as she was thrust into the limelight. This caught Cell's attention, piquing his curiosity about the nickname as well. It had been given to him within the last two months, and he hadn't bothered to ask why or correct her. He had simply adjusted to it, assuming it was just a folksy way of referring to things. Her reaction suggested there was more to it, furrowing his brow.

"...Err... Well, yes, it's a nickname," she hesitates, unsure of where to look with both of them burning their gaze right through her. "I-I mean, when you spend time with someone, these things happen eventually, right? 'Slick' is used to describe someone cunning, silver-tongued—It's just what fits that line of thought. I didn't plan it out or anything, it came to me."

A half-truth, he thought. Cell couldn't explain it, but there was an underlying glint in her eye. She was omitting information from him specifically, not just because the monkey-man was seated across the table. She was a terrible liar, but in this instance, that could be easily taken as gospel to the untrained observer. He wrestled with understanding what went on in that country-bumpkin brain, becoming more openly fixated on his student. Notably, he's stopped eating.

The air just became all the more dense, and this motivates Honeydew to switch gears and get off the subject immediately.

"G-Goku, listen, I can't even begin to fathom how deep the rabbit hole goes. Facts from fiction, truths and lies. I understand you have yer discrepancies with him, I can't blame you. I very much relate with the sentiment."

"However... I strongly oppose your intentions. There is also much you don’t know about me, about him, and what we’ve done here. I won’t give that up, even if you told me everything. It’s a complicated situation, most of which isn’t your business to know. I can only answer what I can, and surely you understand. But you have my word that nothing will happen to Earth."

He's taken a seat, tail wrapped firmly around his own waist as memories play in his mind, he's seated only a few feet away from the same enemy that not only cost him his life, caused his boy to have to fight a battle that he never wanted him to, that persisted even after he sacrificed himself in an attempt to save not just his friends and family but the earth itself. Then it was all wrapped up into a story for the public by Mr.Satan. So many left in the dark, to true horrors that had happened, nearly happened and so much more. He supposes he should have seen something like this happening, if Frieza had the capacity to be brought back why not Cell? How many of his past enemies would come crawling out of hell just because it could happen?

His gaze is cold, lacking it's usual warmth. Many times people have commented on his naivety, his good nature, his willingness for mercy and yet almost every time he's ever shown it, somehow, someway, it gets stepped on and dragged into the dirt. So many times his family, his friends, earth and her people have suffered because of it. It was easy to be evil, harder to be good. The memories burn in the edges of his mind. Helpless, trapped beneath the bio android's foot and stuck watching his son being crushed within arms that only seek to maim. A father forced to watch as his son had to pick up where he left off, had to take on a burden he never wanted him to carry.

The food smells amazing, but he doesn't have the stomach for it. Not in this moment. The dark thoughts keep persisting and he's ready to simply let rage guide him. But for now the only thing holding him back is that the other is currently behaving, how long until that stops? He's not sure. He doesn't want to find out, he's not tempted to incite karma especially with someone like cell. Even still...amnesia huh?

"Unless you were there that day, you don't know the full story besides what Mr.Satan told the world." It's quiet, bitterness in it which speaks volumes on his statement of it.

"You say you've got your own agenda to settle, that I can understand but you don't know my story either. And you can't guarantee me it'll stay that way." Finger tapping on the table before he gestures to the Bio-Android, tilting his head slightly, there's still the low growl in the depths of his voice, unintentional but simply showing how much rage was being repressed. "Why do you call him Slick? A nickname?" The edges of his nails digging into wood, it takes much more restraint that he is currently straining for to keep even remotely calm.

[dukeofthomas]

I'm so mad that so far the only good robin!jason content i've ever found is his original run. Everything i've seen since has just been making him out to be the Angry Bad Problem Child and victim blaming him for dying. How is it that the only fucking good characterization of him is 20 issues from the 1980s