#i'M TEEHEEING AND KICKING MY LEGS

[rhaeravir]

VEXXXXXXX 🤭💗💞

SAIIINNTTTT !! ❤️💚🤗

[max-the-silly-guy]

chat I did a thing

[crimeoflove]

so i just rewatched S1 of good omens again (as you do)

and i think it's finally, fully hit me

crowley loved aziraphale from the beginning.

let that sink in.

when we meet them in the first episode, crowley loved aziraphale.

when they have too much to drink and talk about creates big and small, crowley loves him.

crowley loved aziraphale all along.

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

sometimes i just sprinkle in how young i am in conversation bc it turns me on btw.

[ashes-of-ailell]

cackling maniacally as I write this yuriashe fic (it's all fluff)

[madaqueue]

TEAR MY FLESH, HOLD MY HAND, FEEL MY WARMTH

the weight that lies in a pinky promise

pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

themes/content: curse/canon au. fluff, angst. mentions of fights/difficult childhood. (wk: 3.2k)

a/n: this was originally gonna be for flufftober but it got a lil angsty teehee so here we are :) also the mouse on my computer stopped working so i did all this formatting on my phone bc i'm that dedicated to serving you guys this fic

Suguru was a soft child. Chubby hands, round cheeks, gentle steps.

He was sweet in all the ways a child ought to be, at least according to your parents - sweet in all the ways you weren’t.

You, on the other hand, were loud, jarring, unreserved. “A handful,” you were always described as by those who attempted to care for you. Perhaps that’s why they allowed you such a great extent of freedom, tugging against the length of a leash they tried to place around you, but they’d need stronger chains to tie you down.

And yet, you and Suguru found your similarities - you were both unencumbered by expectations. I am who I am. In spite of everyone, in spite of the ways they tried to dig their tight hands around you and force you into something you weren’t. You are who you are.

The first time you met him, all you saw were tiny feet kicking the air, unable to reach the ground from where he perched upon the park bench. He was the only one not screaming, something you appreciated, something novel. Your life had held such chaos, constant arguments, slamming doors. The peace that wrapped around his small frame seemed to exude a comfort you craved, even if it couldn’t be articulated by your six-year-old mind, you were drawn to it. To him.

“Hi,” you chirped, lifting yourself next to him.

“Hi.”

When you grinned widely at him, he returned a thin-lipped smile, as though he had been trained by wild dogs who took eagerness as a threat, who wouldn’t dare snarl unless as a warning.

(He noticed your absence of fear immediately - how could you approach him so easily? Had you not been taught to be wary?)

(You had been taught. “Avoid strangers, they’ll hurt you.” But you would never choose the harm of the monsters you knew. Better to take your chances in the wild.)

Averting your gaze, your dirtied fingernails began absentmindedly picking at the green paint coating the wood beneath your legs. Your eyes landed on his knees, scuffed and bloody.

“Did that hurt?”

Without looking at you, he shakes his head. “No, I’m just clumsy. I fell off my bike.”

“That’s okay,” you hum, “I get bruises all the time. You must be pretty tough if it didn’t hurt.”

And this time, he giggles, crooked teeth poking through. “Anyone can get hurt, it doesn’t make me tough.”

Leaves rustle overhead as you let out a thoughtful sigh, allowing the sounds of the breeze to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, you realize, no tension hanging in the air like there always seems to be at home, no threat looming around the other side of the kitchen counter.

You tug with all the strength your muscles can muster at a large strip of paint. With a final pull, your palm catches along the fraying wood, splinters digging under your flesh as you let out a choked cry.

Immediately, the boy’s small hands wrap around your wrist, pulling it to his face. Worried eyes inspect the wound. “Are you okay?” he asks without looking up.

A small whimper falls from your throat, lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “Y-yeah,” your voice wobbles.

You’re lying. He knows you’re lying - you aren’t particularly hard to read, he grows to learn, somehow always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s a trait he admires (perhaps because he’s never quite able to place his there so visibly).

When he frowns, you almost giggle at the sight - no child should frown like that. It’s endearing, the way his eyebrows furrow, mouth tugged downward.

“Can I make it better?”

It takes very little to make you trust him, but you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Just as animals seem able to sense intent, an implicit knowledge that the human freeing them from a cage won’t inflict additional pain, you know that his stubby fingers won’t dig at your flesh and make you bleed.

So, you nod.

Determined eyes turn from your visibly pained face to your aching palm. Slowly, he removes the shards of wood from your skin. When you wince, he pauses immediately, waiting for your shoulders to relax before he continues. By the time he’s finished, your bottom lip is red from biting into it but the pain isn’t even noticeable, not when every nerve in your body seems focused on the warmth coming from his fingertips still lingering on your wrist.

“There,” he breathes through the softest smile, “all done.”

“Thanks,” and you can’t help but grin back.

“And see!” He’s beaming now. “You were very tough!”

Your laugh is brighter than the sun, more calming than the birds chirping overhead, a sound he can’t help but mirror. His desire to cheer you up, to comfort you through it all, makes your cheeks warm.

“I’m Suguru, by the way.”

He opens up easily to you, an honor you don’t quite understand yet. When you introduce yourself, he repeats your name back slowly, the vowels sweet like the flowers blooming nearby. It sounds good in his voice.

A whistle cuts through the humidity, immediately drawing Suguru’s attention.

“I gotta go,” his face draws into that adorable pout again.

“Oh.” Dropping your attention, it falls to your freshly healed hands resting in your lap. “Can you do me a favor?”

Expectant eyes meet yours.

“Promise me I’ll see you again?”

This time, he smiles so wide his cheeks push up into his eyes, crinkling at the corners. Holding out a hand, he gently grasps yours as he intertwines your fingers.

“Pinky promise,” he grins, linking them together with a shake.

Through a giggle, you mimic, “pinky promise.”

He shuffles off the bench, clumsy feet landing on the ground before he hobbles off to the waiting arms of a parent who seems to love him. Your heart aches for a moment before it stills - you’re happy he has someone to take care of him, to pull the splinters from his hands and clean off the scrapes on his knees.

It’s a miracle when you both get placed at Jujutsu Tech. It takes very little for you to abandon the place you called home, having jumped at the first chance to leave your childhood behind, but having Suguru there makes it even easier when you get approached by a strange man with dark hair and glasses who touts himself as the principal of some elusive school a few hours away. They’ll pay for your housing, your food, anything you need to survive for the next four years so long as you agree to train and work for them. It was an easy yes - you would have done more for less.

And of course, there was your so-called “power.” The two of you had danced around the subject for years, hesitantly testing each other’s experiences to not unload worry onto the other. That was the thing about Suguru - he was always looking out for you, and you, him. He never needed to ask if you were thirsty, he’d just bring you tea; you never had to ask if he was lonely, you’d just find him sitting alone on the same park bench.

It was Suguru who finally broke on his thirteenth birthday while the two of you made your way through town, snowflakes hanging in the air.

“Do you ever…see things?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket in a futile search for warmth.

From the corner of your vision, you caught the faintest glimmer of fear in his eyes. And you understood immediately.

“Yes.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed, hot breath puffing into the air. “Thank god,” he murmured.

Again, it wasn’t a surprise, per se - the two of you had shared everything. It only seemed natural that you would share this ability to see curses, the monsters hiding in the shadows.

“Do they ever…scare you?” Your voice felt small as you asked - you hadn’t yet reached relief, or at the very least, neutrality towards these things.

And he sees it in you, too - the dread he felt when he first saw them, the pang of terror that shoots up his spine when he catches one moving in the dark. He’s grown more accustomed to their presence, but there’s still that thread of fear lingering, choking him when he gets tangled in it.

“Yes.”

Cold fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

“But I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiles that sweet, soft smile, “pinky promise.”

The training wasn’t easy. You hadn’t expected it to be, obviously, but fuck was it hard.

Suguru excelled initially, as he did with everything. The others in your small class also show great potential, Satoru in particular, but Shoko’s abilities develop in her own way, too.

It’s nice to finally feel like you have a place where you belong, to have people to return to, people who care about you, who love you. It’s nice to be here, even if it pushes you to your limits everyday, because you know you’ll always have someone to come home to - to know you’ll always have Suguru to come home to.

It hits you on a sunny day in October when you’re watching him spar with Satoru. Fists fly, a mix of black and white flashing across the grass. When Gojo lands a particularly well-timed punch, Suguru’s body lands with a thud in the dirt.

You’re on your feet in less than a second, shoving Satoru out of the way as you stand over the dazed boy on the ground. He looks beautiful like this, you think - his hair splayed out around him, blood trickling from his nose, lips tugged into an awestruck smirk - before you shake the thought aside.

“Are you okay?”

Panicked hands run over his torso, checking for injuries before they land on his face. Cupping his jaw, he can’t help but breathe a laugh at the worry painted across your features. His palms come to rest along your wrists, dark eyes meeting yours.

“I’m okay,” he sighs. Now that you’re here. “I’m tough, remember?”

Every muscle in your body releases tension just at hearing his voice, his calming aura once again blanketing you, bringing you under the warmth of his peace.

With a playful punch to his shoulder, he feigns a dramatic wince. “Just don’t get hurt again, okay?”

He knows it’s impossible - it’s the nature of the job, of the responsibilities he holds. He will be hit and bruised and battered and brought to the brink of death again and again, but right now, that’s not what you need to hear. Because you know it’s impossible too; and you also know Suguru is strong.

“I pinky promise,” he halfheartedly grins. He promises to at least try. For you.

Wrapping your finger around his, you let the heat of your bodies fill the air, vibrating in tune with the cicadas lining the trees. His hand is soft in yours. It feels like coming home - the familiar walk up the steps, the paint on the front door cracking from where palms had rubbed against it time and time again as the handle turned. The wooden floors are worn in with the path you take through each other’s lives, from the kitchen to the living room to the windows, gazing over the backyard.

Suguru had a swingset, you remember. You figured out how to use it the first time you ever sat on the sun-worn rubber, going higher and higher and higher until the toes of your shoes scraped the sky. But Suguru always struggled - he couldn’t quite move his body in the right way to grant him flight. He would get frustrated with it rather easily, until your small hands rested against his back. With a firm push, you set him free into the air, his feet kicking perfectly with all the momentum a child’s body could hold.

Maybe gravity was discovered by children on the playground. There had to be a reason they couldn’t swing forever; there had to be a reason they couldn’t reach the sun.

The problem is, though, that a star’s heat dissipates with distance. It can’t always warm you, not when your feet land back on the ground.

Over the next year, Satoru began going on more missions alone, and Shoko stayed behind to hone her healing, leaving you and Suguru in the purgatory between power and nothingness. And most days, you feel closer to nothing.

It’s eating at him, you realize. The missions, the responsibility, the whole fucking thing is taking bites out of his soul with sharpened teeth and leaving nothing behind but a bloodied mess of torn expectations. It makes him smaller and smaller, pulling pieces of him until there’s nothing left.

You can see it in the way his clothes hang loose on his body. His shoulders slump forward, the shadows beneath his eyes growing darker each night he spends with his gaze locked on the ceiling.

The foundation of his soul is crumbling, the front door barricaded closed. The windows are boarded up. You can’t see your childhood anymore. All the grass in the front yard is dead.

You miss when the sun’s rays shone through him.

You miss when he was warm.

Finding him resting on one of the old benches in the school’s courtyard, it creaks beneath your weight as you sit, the only sound breaking the stagnant silence of the summer air. That’s another thing you’ve noticed - sometimes, Suguru is so quiet you aren’t even sure he exists. If you weren’t here watching his chest rise and fall, could you even prove he was breathing?

He says nothing when you rest your head on his shoulder, not that he needs to, of course. He hasn’t said much lately, mostly responding to everyone else’s overflowing conversations with empty smiles and sad eyes.

You aren’t sure how much longer you can take it.

“Suguru?”

His body doesn’t even shift in response to hearing his name, but you feel his eyes on you even though you can’t see them, your gaze instead focused on your hands resting in his lap. Picking at the skin along your nails, you continue.

“Are you okay?”

He’s grateful you can’t hear the way his heartbeat stutters (because then you’d already have the answer to your question).

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips never parting. You miss the way they used to curl into that childlike grin, it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.

You know he’s lying, but unfortunately, you want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly it feels like you’re trapped underground, buried under your love for him, banging on the floorboards overhead, but there’s no one around to hear. There’s dirt in your lungs and you can’t breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Silently, you hold your hand in front of him, pinky raised in a question.

Would you promise?

On instinct, his own hand lifts from his side. It hovers just inches from yours, but he hesitates. The gap between them grows farther with each second they don’t intertwine, stars pushing one another apart, unable to collide. The steadiness in him wavers for a moment as you watch his fingers shake.

He can’t.

When he collapses into you, everything falls apart. Arms wrap around your frame, hands grabbing fistfuls of your uniform. He clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because as a child, no one ever taught him how to swim - maybe they didn’t see the point in learning such a useless skill, or maybe they thought they were protecting him. But now, he’s been thrown into relentless waves of grief and with each breath more briney water fills his chest and he’s gasping and scared and he doesn’t know what to do except hold you. The tears falling from his eyes taste like the sea and they burn his throat, but at least for a moment his legs can stop kicking. For a moment, he has someone who can keep him afloat.

Your palms rub slow circles into his back as he cries. The sound is sharp and painful, carving into the still-beating flesh of your heart, but at least it exists. At least he’s here. At least he’s alive.

Placing your lips to the top of his head, you let them rest there as his body shakes.

“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin, surrounded by small strands of hair pulled loose and warm from the sun. “I promise.”

As things tend to do, they eventually get easier.

You and Suguru talk to the higher ups about changing his schedule, only going on missions with at least one other sorcerer so he’s not doing all the work by himself. They bargain and ultimately even agree to grant him dedicated days off to rest. And finally, you feel as though you’ve been granted your miracle, the scales of fate begrudgingly tipping in your favor.

(If all your pain meant that Suguru’s would be lessened for even a moment you would do it over again a million times. If all your suffering meant that Suguru wouldn’t have to endure it for a second longer, you would suffer for eternity.)

Even as fall returns and the sun shines through the sky less and less, things feel brighter. The two of you find yourselves in the school’s cafeteria making tea every night, and he learns he sleeps better with you in his arms.

When the four of you gather around a picnic table outside to recap your recent assignments, you tell some stupid joke, one that makes Satoru groan and Shoko roll her eyes through a smirk, and you hear it: Suguru laughs. And for a moment, the world stops spinning.

You all exchange glances before turning to face him, his cheeks pushed up and pink, eyes closed in bliss. You can’t contain yourselves as you join him, fits of giggles lilting through the crisp air.

That night, he welcomes you into bed with open arms waiting beneath the covers. His lips are curved into a grin as he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, a newer part of your routine, one that makes your entire body vibrate.

Snuggling against him, the warmth of his chest radiates into your skin, each beat of his heart a welcome melody.

“Hey Suguru?” you murmur.

His voice is laced with sleep as he answers into the darkness, “Yeah?”

“You’re really strong, y’know that?”

Letting out an airy chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “I’m nothing compared to Satoru-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

You can hear the air entering his lungs with each breath. He takes in three before he responds. “I know.”

Long fingers trace circles into the bare skin of your arm.

“Suguru?”

You know what you have to tell him - you’ve been holding it for years, keeping it close to you, carrying its weight through each day until you barely notice it anymore. Maybe it’s the change of the seasons, a different density to the air, but suddenly it has begun to feel heavy in your hands.

“Yeah?”

His hands make their way up your neck until they rest along your cheek, guiding your gaze to him through the dark.

Three breaths in, three breaths out.

“I love you.”

You can’t see him smile, but you feel it. The warmth of his palm leaves your face for a moment until you feel it again along your hand. He intertwines his pinky with yours. “I love you, too.”

[thehoneybeestings]

──˚₊•Sugar Plum•‧₊˚──

Word Count: 2.3k

Synopsis: After years of competing for the title of Star Senior at Piltover Springs Dance School, the hatred that Violet Lanes and Y/n Y/l/n have garnered for each other is rendered a waste when in a turn of events, they are both awarded the distinction. When this forces them to confront what feelings they have for each other outside of unbridled loathing, they find that the line between hatred and lust is much finer than they thought...

Continuation of this headcanon (can be read alone, though; you'll just miss out on some context)

Content/Warnings: nsfw, smut!, top! vi, bottom! reader, low-key softdom! vi, lowkey subby! reader, reader has female anatomy, reader referred to with feminine terms/pet names (princess, good girl, etc.), pussy eating (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, mirror sexxxx, lots of consent checks bc vi you are so sweetie, can't not think of Wicked when i hear the phrase "unadulterated loathing" so i am sorry if you are in the same boat

A/N: okay guys... here it is teehee. thank you SO much for all of the love on my dancer! vi x dancer! r headcanon; I honestly did not expect it! i really really enjoyed writing for this little plotline and I'm glad you guys enjoyed it, too; and i hope this scene brings it justice... enjoy! mwah ha ha

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

You’re not quite sure how seven years of pure, unadulterated loathing between you and Violet Lanes had led to this; Vi, with a knee slotted in between your legs, hands splayed across your torso as she kissed you, and you, pinned between her body and the ballet bar behind you, whimpering into her mouth as you rode her thigh… 

The two of you were staying late at the dance studio to see if you could finally manage to perfect the lift in your duet that had been kicking your ass, and somewhere along the way, you’d found out just how fine the line between hatred and lust could be. 

What possessed you to step- no, leap- over said line, you didn’t know, but you resigned to mulling over that later, when your sworn enemy wasn’t pulling at the hair on the nape of your neck.

Her tongue traces the line of your throat before she latches on; it isn’t long before she gets carried away and you let out a hiss at the pinch of her teeth on your pulse. 

Her movements come to a halt. “Shit,” she’d exhale, “Sorry, didn’t mean to-”

“Keep going.” 

She raises a brow, rearing her head back to look at you.“Yeah? I'm gonna leave a mark if I do.”

“I don’t care what you do, just want you to keep going.”

Who is she to deny such a sweet request?

She resumes her attack on the sensitive skin until the mark on your neck is to her liking. She pulls back to assess her handiwork, and you can’t help but chuckle at her concentration through your haze. 

“Seriously? I think you're good, Vi.”

“Just makin’ sure,” she’d say with a lop-sided grin. 

You shoot her a grin of your own. “Don’t worry; I know you don’t like to share.”

“No,” she begins before leaning in, her smile barely brushing your own, “I don’t.”

Your lips would meet again, tongues moving slow and languid against each other as she rocks into you just the same. The contact- however delicious- isn’t quite enough, and it’s starting to drive you crazy. Your breath is getting heavier, your whines more shameless, and you’ve started meeting each rock of her leg with the rock of your hips. You’re chasing more- you need more- and Vi can tell. 

She’s not going to make it easy for you, of course. 

She plants the heel of her foot back on the ground, separating her knee from the heat between your thighs.

“Wh-what?” You plead breathlessly, “Why’d you stop?”

“You sure you can handle this, sweetheart? You’re falling apart and I’m not even inside you yet.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet hers, wild and desperate. 

“What,” she’d ask, cocking her head to the side, “Is that what you want? You want me inside?” 

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, please, that’s what I want.” 

You swear you can see her pupils blow out. You were begging for her. You’d been icing her out for the past seven years, and now, here you were, begging for her.

If this was a dream… then she was sure she’d wake up soon, and she wanted to taste you first.

“Can you hold out for just a little longer?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I mean, yeah… why?”

And then, Violet Lanes is on her knees in front of you.

“Oh. That's why.” Your smile is bashful as you look down at her, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Can I?” She peers up at you, hands toying with the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Fuck yes, you can.”

A satisfied smirk spreads across her face, and she tugs the sweatpants down to your ankles, leaving you to step out of the rest of the pooled material.

“Alright, baby; toss your leg up,” she commands, guiding your leg over her shoulder with a hand behind your thigh. Your hands grip the ballet bar behind you, and you hope to God you’ll be able to hold yourself up through the feeling of her mouth on you.

“You good? Holding on tight?”

“Yeah, yeah; I’m good.” 

She nods from below you with a smile, and her hand comes trailing up the calf swung over her shoulder to the plush of your thigh seated next to her head. She’s got an arm wrapped around your other leg, securing you in place.

Your breath begins to stutter as she places open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh, your body twitching and tensing in anticipation each time she grows closer to where you need her.

“Relax,” she purrs, thumb rubbing circles into the meaty flesh beside her.

You nod, closing your eyes and leaning your head back with a sigh; and when she finally places a kiss on the patch of wetness soaking through your underwear, you fucking melt.

“Good girl,” she draws out, feeling your weight press into her fully. “You still good with this?”

“Violet, I’m gonna lose my mind if your mouth isn’t on me in-”

You yelp as she pulls your underwear to the side to lick a stripe up from the nectar pooling at your entrance to the hardened pearl above it. 

“Not sure you’re in any position to make demands here, sugar plum.”

Your eyes roll back into your head when she attaches her lips to your clit, and when she sucks, your hand shoots down to grab at the hair on her crown. 

She moans into you- noted- and her tongue darts back down to lap at your wetness, trailing up, then down, then up, then down, collecting as much as she can on the tip of her warm tongue. 

“Fuck, princess; you taste so fucking good.”

She barely lets herself finish her sentence- words muffled in your pussy- before she’s back on your clit, swirling her tongue in circles around the swollen bud. 

The grip you have on her hair is tighter now, your thighs trembling, your features knit together in pleasure; you look down to find Vi so lost in between your legs that you don’t even think she notices how close you are.

You loosen your grip on her hair to tap rapidly on her shoulder. “V-Vi, baby,” 

As pussy drunk as she is, her head still snaps up at the sound of the pet name on your tongue. Her lips are swollen and glossy with your slick, her cheeks flushed red as the hair on her head. 

“What’s up, princess?” 

“J-just… gonna cum soon,” you pant, “want you inside first…”

“Yeah?” she smirks, gently guiding your leg off of her shoulder. She stands up, hand gripping your waist as she leans to press a sloppy kiss on your lips; and fuck, you can taste yourself on her mouth. 

“Wanna cum on my fingers?” She asks in between kisses; and you nod against her mouth, hand on the back of her head pulling her impossibly close.

She chuckles into your mouth before pulling away to drink in your features; your pleading eyes, your soft lips, the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“You’re beautiful.” 

There was that look: so soft. So soft that you could hardly stand it, your head lowering in order to escape it. 

“Oh? You’re shy now?” 

You giggle- and she wonders if that sound had always been so sweet- before pushing at her chest.

“Shut up. I'm not shy.”

“Oh, yeah?” The raise of her brow and the cockiness of her voice says she’s got something planned. 

“Turn around for me, then.”

“I-I… what? I’m-”

“Turn. Around.”

Her grip on your waist tightens, and she’s twisting your hips until suddenly, you’re face-to-face with your own reflection.

“There’s my pretty girl,” she lulls, head dropping down to plant a kiss on your shoulder. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Y-yeah… yeah,” you breathe out. You’re watching yourself come undone for her.

“Look at me.”

You’re a little embarrassed at how quickly you obey.

“You look away, and I stop, yeah?”

You whine. “Vi, really? Just-”

For a moment, the intensity of her gaze disappears, as if she’s dropped whatever persona she’d been assuming; as if she was making herself smaller for you

“If you don’t like this, just let me know. Don’t want you uncomfortable or all in your head, yeah?” 

You quirk a smile at her consideration. “No… I like it. I trust you.”

She smirks at you. “Just being a brat, then?” 

Your eye roll answers that question.

“Just being a brat. Got it. Eyes on me then, baby.”

And then, she’s pulling your- now soaked- underwear down to your thighs, reaching down to glide her middle and ring fingers through your slick, and your eyes flutter shut, and you’ve already broken the one rule she gave you.

“Y/n,” she scolds, her fingers halting. 

Your eyes fly open to find her again, and you’re muttering out a desperate apology, rocking back on her fingers, seeking any sensation you can get. 

Her free arm comes around to circle your waist, holding you in place so that you can’t chase your release on your own. “I gave you one rule, sweetheart. Keep those pretty eyes on me and I promise I’ll make you cum.”

You nod frantically, eyes never leaving her own, even as she brings her fingers up to rub your own wetness into your clit; even as those fingers sink into you from behind, three knuckles deep.

“Jesus fuck,” she curses, “fuckin’ swallowing me.”

Your thighs are already shaking, your walls fluttering around her fingers as they adjust to the new fullness.

“Gonna move now, okay?” she warns before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Yes,” you nod, “yes- fuck!”

You call out as her hand flips over, fingers rotating inside you to press into the ridges of nerves on your front wall.

“That didn’t take long to find…” she muses.

“Fuck you,” you scoff to the best of your ability- although it doesn’t really pack a punch when you look so blissed out- and Vi laughs at you.

She fucking laughs, and you remember for a moment what makes her so damn annoying; but then, she’s pistoning into you, and your mind goes blank.

You feel high off of her fingers, limbs tingling and head fuzzy, completely out of control of whatever sounds are coming out of your mouth. You can vaguely hear “fuck, yes,” and “shit, shit, shit,” and “please, Vi, please” in your own voice. You can vaguely hear the obscene sounds of her fingers moving in and out of your slick, which is, no doubt, dripping down your thighs by now. You can vaguely make out her focused expression through the stars you’re seeing.

When she brings her mouth to the shell of your ear to speak to you, though, it’s her voice that brings you back down to earth. “You with me, sweet girl? Focused on me?”

If you focus any harder on her fingers slipping in and out of you, or on the way her breath picks up in your ear, or on the furrow of her own brow, you’ll cum.

Wait… shit, you're about to cum.

“Vi,” you call out, eyes widening, “I’m gonna- I’m so close- fuck, please.”

In a second, the arm around your waist is unraveling, and she reaches down to rub tight circles onto your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge.

You can’t fucking help it; your eyes roll back, head falling back onto her shoulder, breaking the one rule she gave you.

“Sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry, I can’t-” 

You’re near tears as her hands continue their ministrations. “ ‘S alright baby,” she coos, “You’re doing so fucking good, just want you to cum for me.”

And with a guttural noise you’ve never heard yourself make, you’re doing just that; spasming on her fingers, legs shaking underneath you, knuckles white as they grip the ballet bar you’re practically doubled over. 

Vi works you through your orgasm until your hand is shooting down in between your legs, shooing her own away. “Shit, that’s enough… ‘m all done.”

She’s careful pulling out, taking the two digits into her own mouth before pulling your underwear back up in place. Her hands return to your hips, turning your body back towards her. You still haven’t opened your eyes; still trying to catch your breath.

“Hey,” she speaks softly, pulling you in, “You okay?”

When you open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you like she adores you. It’s so tender, so gentle; so much so that in the come down off the high you’d just experienced, you start to tear up.

“I’m sorry,” you begin with a sniffle, “for being such an asshole all this time.”

“Woah, woah, woah- first of all, so was I; but more importantly, you’re fucked out right now. Just worry about catching your breath for a few minutes, okay love?”

You give her a weak chuckle as she pulls away to gather your previously discarded bottoms. She leans down in front of you, guiding your legs as she directs you to put “one foot in… okay, now the other,” before pulling them up to their place on your hips.

You thank her with a smile, and she waves you off in response.

“Do you, uh…” she’s nervously rubbing the back of her neck as if she weren’t just demanding that you keep your eyes on her while she plowed you, “do you think you’d wanna come back to my place? Powder’s over at Ekko’s and my Dad has game nights with his friends every Wednesday, so it’ll just be us. We can just chill, watch a movie or something, order food if you want. Just… don’t wanna ditch you or anything, wanna make sure you’re all good after-”

“That sounds perfect, Violet.” 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

You’re not quite sure how seven years of pure, unadulterated loathing between you and Violet Lanes had led to this; a sleepover at her house, watching shitty action movies together, splitting a pizza, and falling asleep on the couch with your limbs tangled together.

But here you were. And it really was perfect; and everyone knows that you don’t settle for less than perfect.

End ୨ৎ

Taglist: @spidercat-soccerfan, @lipglosskxsses, @baylegend6

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

m'starting to get my groove back no emperor so here's a lil valentines day piece i wrote, hope yall enjoy ♡ ! ( a lil bit more love for the hopeless romantic singles like me, ppl in a relationship yall can get that from your s/o's..still love yall tho ♡)

fem reader, katsuki is a nervous lil thing, his friends don't help( they do end up helping him out tho), just pure fluffyness, bksquad boys are sassy towards each other but all in good fun, bkg is a softie, kirimina kinda hinted but eiji shuts it down take it how u wanna, food n takeout mentions,dude talk written by a girl trying her best, kirishima's sheets smell bad lemme know if i missed sum else ♡ !! (no friends to lovers mentioned in this one btw..starting to feel myself goin thru withdrawal already..), not rlly reader oriented like usual but i thought this was cute lol i like the idea of katsuki caring about us so much he goes out his way to ask for help from others (despite hating doing so)teehee (also i like the idea of these silly guys interacting and i like hc-ing them okay okay i'll stop rambling okay-)

the last thing kirishima expected at 9.34 pm was someone basically busting down his door with how hard they were knocking on it.

eijirou opens the door urgently and is even more suprised to see his foul mouthed best friend on the other side of the door.

"woah, bakugou, man !" he exclaims seeing the state his friend was in. his eyes looked droopy and his clothes were wrinkled up like he had done a lot of moving around. usually, he would've assumed his friend had just awoken from a good nap, but his restless expression said otherwise. "what happened to you ? you look—"

" 'm fine." bakugou gruffs hoarsely, taking a deep breath at his friends widened eyes, softening up his demeanor just slightly " i'm good," he rephrased "just—you gonna let me in or what ?"

eijirou sputters out an "of course, of course" only for his friend let himself in before he could even move aside. though he immediately freezes when he sees-

"woah, kacchan's gone nutso ! " denki exclaims, face turning red from laying upside down on kirishima's bean bag for way too long.

"and he's up past 8 ? must be the apocalypse or somethin' " sero chuckles from his place on the floor near the dresser.

bakugou groans has he flops onto eijirou’s bed "of course you losers are here" his complaint is muffled against the pillows, but not muffled enough to where the rest of the boys can't hear.

"hey ! we were here before you ! 'f anythin', you're the one intruding—!" denki gulps, eyebrows furrowed. he quickly spins around to lay right when he feels the blood rushing to his head, taking a deep breath afterwards. sero chuckles and bakugou deadpans at kaminari for a good fourty seconds before slamming his head back down and groans even louder.

kirishima decides he's at a safe enough distance to sit down on his own bed, without making any sudden moves so as not to anger the beast that is an angry, sleepy bakugou. he places a hand near his friends leg, where he deems he's at safe to ask "what's up man ? you're usually in bed by this time.." he hears sero make a noise in agreement.

"yeah, or he's havin' kissy-kissy time with his giiiirrrlffrrieeeend.." kaminari sings, kicking his feet in the air jokingly. bakugou, to everyones suprise, flinches at the mention of you, then slams his head against kirishima's pillow harder and groaning even louder.

all three friends share a curious-somewhat worried look. kirishima nudges his head in bakugou's direction, silently begging his friends to say something. said friends adamantly shake their heads, as if synchronized, making a cross motion with their arms. kirishima sighs to himself, some friends.

yet again, he is the first one to speak up " did..did something happen between you two, didja fight or something ?" he asks carefully, his entire body is strained and the air in the room is so heavy, everybody present ready to get a big portion of the great lord explodo-bomberkill's anger.

only to be met with bakugou turning around to lay on his back eyebrows strained slightly and eyes absent, thinking about something they don't know "what ? course we didn't fuckin fight, idiot." he answers simply.

the three friends all let out an obnoxious sigh of relief, to katsuki's slight confusion.

"hoo, okay." kirishima answered relieved. he knows you and bakugou don't fight very much (which he thinks is super manly) but he knows that when it happens bakugou get's extremely—EXTREMELY—irritable, so it's best to stay away from him while he has his heart broken for a little bit, unless he reaches out by himself, but that only happens when he feels really bad and came to ask for advice on how to get his boyfriend priviledges back. "soo.." eijirou sings "what happened then ?"

bakugou's face hardens and the group stiffens again, preparing for a latent explosion--perhaps the volcano was still dormant and was about to be set off. the three boys hold their breaths.

bakugou takes a deep breath, a sour expression on his face.

3..

bakugou huffs out a sigh.

2...

he opens his mouth to speak and—his cheeks are turning pink ?

"valentine's day's after tomorrow and i don't know what the fuck to get her."

the three boys slump over and kaminari does so so hard his face bangs against the floor. kirishima feels like he's in a sitcom or some gag anime.

" that's it ?" sero chuckles to himself "what ? you're worried for valentine's day ?" sero mocks, gladly taking the opportunity to mess with the blond "that shit's easy man." he cackles, leaning against the dresser more comfortably.

"yeah dude, all you gotta do is get her some chocolates and like—a teddy bear or somethin' girls love that typa stuff !" kaminari piped up, having lifted his head up from the floor. sero nods and bakugou lifts himself up to scoff at them. it feels like it comes from the deepest depth of his very being and kirishima feels a little hurt, despite not being the target of the attack.

"this is why you losers don't have girlfriends yourselves, so i don't wanna hear anythin' from you." kaminari chokes out an "ouch, dude !" " sides, i'm not just gonna settle for that boring ass shit for my girl. no chance in hell." bakugou concludes gruffly.

"yeah, yeah we get it you're the perfect boyfriend" sero quips bitterly, rolling his eyes. " why'd you come here to ask us if, according to you, we get none ?" he questioned raising an eyebrow.

"i came here for shitty hair, not you bastards." the blond spits, rolling his eyes as well before turning to kirishima, who jumps a little at his friends slightly desperate eyes on him.

"woah, i don't have—what makes you think i would be any help ?" the redhead splutters, waving his hands around.

"don't you have something goin' on with alien chick ?"

"what ?! no dude, we're just friends !"

at that, bakugou's eyes widen the slightest bit before he groans for what feels like the 5Oth time tonight, and flops back onto the bed dramatically, turning his head away from his friend " your fuckin' useless too, then." his friend grumbles angrily.

"hey !" kirishima exclaims "mean ! i help you with your girlfriend troubles all the time without having one !"

bakugou turns to face his friend again with narrowed eyes, before exhaling a frustrated sigh and lifting himself up again, eyebrows furrowed. "your sheets smell like ass by the way." he chides, nose scrunched slightly.

"h-hey !" kirishima reiterates " i was gonna wash 'em !"

bakugou gives him an incredulous look, before shaking his head, sighing.

"well look, how about you just get her something you know she likes, isn't that good enough ?" sero offers, shrugging to himself.

"ou ! i saw a guy on tiktok ask his girlfriend out with wingstop, you could like-" kaminari, despite getting lightheaded before has apparently not learned his lesson as he flips around on his back again "—ask her to be your valentines with some fast food chain she likes, and those cute pink heart balloons they sell at the mall, y'know !"

the boys all hum at kaminari's suprisingly helpful idea. kirishima doesn't wanna say it out loud but he really hadn't expected such a cute idea from his electric friend.

"y'know, i was gonna say you were just hungry with the wingstop thing, but that's actually not a bad idea kaminari." sero hums absentmindedly with an impressed expression on his face. kirishima sweatdrops at his lack of tact but isn't really suprised.

"fuck you, man ! you guys never trust me with this stuff." kaminari whines mostly to himself. "yer track record isn't really the best when it comes to scoring girls, is it ?" sero retorts.

kirishima shakes his head seeing his friends start to bicker. he decides to ignore them and turn to his spiky haired friend, who seems deep in thought "well, what about it ? that sound like a good idea ?" he asks.

"s'not half bad.." his friend mutters in response " it's a good start, i guess."i if he notices how kaminari presses a hand to his chest with a heartfelt look on his face, he doesn't comment on it.

"oh, maybe try the take-out and a movie, i'm assuming you're not trynna have a whole celebration, yeah ?" bakugou grunts in response, his nose scrunches as he cringes thinking about the idea. he shakes his head "no, want it to be..about just the two of us, y'know ?" he utters honestly, in a way that sounds way too out of character from him.

a symphony of awwwss resonates around the room and katsuki feels his cheeks heat up hard as he harshly tells his friends to shut up.

" but seriously i'm curious, you guys are already together right ? why would you need to ask her to be your valentine anyway—shouldn’t that be a given ? " sero wonders.

"i don’t fuckin know, my old hag says it’s about the principal or some shit like that." bakugou sighs, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm up over his eyes, it seemed like being up so late was affecting him.

"no way dude, you called your mom ?" kaminari asks, jaw practically reaching the floor (or the ceiling..?) in shock. bakugou flushes and splutters as he hears his friends reaction to this apparently shocking news.

“shut up.” he growls “she says it’s important to show i care.. my old man does it an' they're still together right now so he must be doin' something right.

"woah man.." kirishima uttered in awe " you're goin so far to make your girlfriend happy.." he clenches his fist "s-so manly !" bakugou simply grumbles to himself in response.

"honestly..i didn't expect that from you..like at all."

"fuck off !"

"like genuinely, at all. or maybe like, 0.00003 percent cha-"

" i'll fuckin' kill you tape arms !" bakugou barked, small sparks shooting out of his palms as he kneeled at the foot of kirishima's bed in pursuit of the black haired boy. kirishima swiftly swoops in and grabs his friends arm, quickly putting his finger over his mouth

"shhhh, man !" kirishima shushes. " if we're loud, class rep's gonna hear us !" he hisses.

"or worse, mr. aizawa..." kaminari whimpered.

all four boys share a shiver.

afterwards, bakugou sighs, acting as if him almost literally blowing up at his friend a minute ago hadn't happened and gets up to sit on the side of the bed.

"well whatever, i'm satisfied." he says, a little yawn leaving him "my folks gave me some ideas so i'll use those too." his eyes zip around the room and back to the floor, then he closes his eyes and speaks so quietly kirishima barely catches it

"you guys' idea isn't horrible either so i'll keep it in mind..thanks." he utters a quick " 'r whatever." before suddenly getting up and practically sprinting to the door.

it's quiet in the room as everyone sits stunned and kirishima is the first to speak again "o-oh yeah, no problem man, anytime !" he beamed, though still slightly shocked.

"yeah, no problem..!" kaminari can't seemed to decide if he wants to smile or be stunned. his mouth stuck in an awkward half-smile-half- '°O°-' face.

" course." sero raises a thumbs up and a small smile.

bakugou grunts to himself, graces his friends with a simple "night." then pulling the door open quietly, looking around the hallway quickly before swiftly creeping out the room, closing the door behind him. the boys quickly reciprocate the goodnight quietly before he can fully close it. he stutters at the door for a second longer and kirishima knows he heard them then, so he's satisfied.

it's quiet in the room for about 5 seconds after bakugou's left.

"dude, for some reason that made me feel all warm inside..is that just me ?" kaminari hummed, pressing a hand to his chest.

"nope, me too" sero admits, sighing to himself.

"yeah, same here" kirishima says as well, smiling to himself " he really cares about yn, huh ?"

"i can give him that, yeah" sero stretches, getting up so he can jump onto kirishima's bed.

"dude" he lifts his head up "your sheets do smell like ass." sero snickers.

" I- AM-GONNA-WASH-THEM !! "

afterwards valentines day comes around. the boys don't have valentines of their own but when they see you and katsuki hand in hand, with you holding onto those cute pink heart balloons from the mall, wearing a sweater a little too big for you and a valentines day gift bag in your one hand, with bakugou holding onto a bag of take-out and offering them a single side glance and a nod with a half smirk on his lips, they feel extremely proud of themselves. bakugou reminds himself to tell his friends he owes them one.

[coquexari]

I'm sorry, I just realized something while I was reading your post about Banthena (I hope that's okay? If not, I'll stop using it) trying to fight the suitors & not having an easy time of it.

How she was upset over it due to her being the goddess of war, but then I remembered that she's not simply the goddess of war. She's the goddess of war strategy & wisdom.

It's possible that she may have somewhat forgotten that due to her previously natural goddess endowed strength & may need to be reminded.

(And as I was typing that, I imagined Ody or Mac or both possibly, singing a reprise of "Warrior of the Mind" to do so, which could be so flippin' cool!!)

Actually... this could be an opportunity for her to actually refine this aspect of herself because she can't rely on her deity strength anymore... In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she was used to fighting like a man. I wonder, would she need to learn how to do physical things as a woman? Like, by focusing more on the strength in her lower body; legs, hips, core. So, things like dodging, flexibility, kicking, quick reaction. It's like how guys can muscle through climbing, but women climb best by using their legs & core strength.

So, if one were to put that together with her having to work on her mind, including on-the-fly strategizing... if she were to turn back into a goddess... Man, wouldn't it be ironic is becoming a mortal ended up making her a better at her roles as a goddess, in the end? Like, actually being a goddess her whole life had actually been holding her back from her full potential?

Can you imagine that it eventually led to her overthrowing Zeus like he'd been afraid of happening with Metis? "One often meets their destiny on the road to avoid it," right?

(Some other things I also remembered reading about her lore is that she's also the goddess of justice & suffers of a chronic headache so long as injustice exists. But, as a mortal, that is no longer her domain, so imagine that she gets to a point in her recovery where she realizes that she'd been in so much pain all over before, that she hadn't realized that she suddenly didn't have a headache anymore &... she just can't... How do you even describe not being in pain after only ever knowing pain? But I imagine that it must be odd. Another thing I remember of her is that she's also the goddess of handicrafts, things like weaving, pottery, I imagine painting & sculpting are on that list too. So, if she insists on paying her way, then perhaps she could do so that way? Whether it be by selling them or just helping Penelope around the house.)

Sorry for chattering so much. I tend to do that when I find a REALLY good thing with a lot of potential. ^^;

HI I TOOK EONS TO ANSWER THIS BECAUSE YOU MAKE SUCH A GOOD POINT AND MY BRAIN CANT MAKE ANY POINTS TO ADD ONTO THIS, so I'm eating your thoughts now, please continue to ramble in my asks anon <3

Also, teehee banthena is allowed indeed, and it's now the tag for if you want to make fan posts of the au :3!

[stxneflxwers]

butterfly kiss.

⋯⁂ summary. who would've thought he'd be this ticklish?

⋯⁂ a/n. hehe... you know that pic, right? oh my god, does it make me want to cover him in kisses every time i see it–

⋯⁂ characters. aventurine. gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. fluff. physical affection. ticklish aven teehee. situationship?

"Good morning, honeybee...~"

You began to speak as you tiptoed into your beloved companion's bedroom, ready to bother him awake for the day. Sure, he's on a brief vacation, but you wanted to make it as delightful as you could. And, as much as you understand the allure of sleep, you wanted to treat him to a good day that wasn't just sleeping or being stuck in the casino.

You two haven't gotten officially together, and perhaps you never will, but that certainly doesn't mean you haven't kissed and held hands before. He lets you come in and out of his penthouse as you please, he knows you're about as harmless as a speck of dust.

...But you've certainly had a much bigger impact on his personal life than a mere speck of dust.

When you noticed he's thrown off his blankets (perhaps from feeling too warm?), you spot his exposed stomach. His sleep shirt is partly open at the chest and stomach, only one little golden button actually fastening the dark attire together.

And you grin devilishly.

This is the perfect opportunity for the idea that has been haunting your mind for months.

You sneak over to him, appreciating his pretty face as he fitfully sleeps – it's rare when his slumber isn't anything but restless, anyway. Your eyes appreciatively drag down from his face, staring at his cleavage, and then eventually landing on his soft stomach.

You almost feel bad for disturbing his rest with what you're about to do next.

Almost.

You then tackle him and start attacking his warm, bare tummy with dozens of fleeting kisses that show no signs of stopping. He bolts awake and squeaks in surprise – the sound is, by far, the cutest thing you've ever heard come from his sassy mouth. And then he's giggling and wiggling around in a fit, but he never once pushes you off.

"H-Hey!" He's unable to contain his laughter from the ticklish kisses, his legs kicking and bending awkwardly from the feeling. "Q-Quit that, you...!" He wheezes.

And then he accidentally knees you in the face.

"O-Oh, I'm so sorry–" He quickly pulls himself upright, cupping your cheeks as he observes the forming bruise on your face. "...Well, you can think of this as a punishment for being so cheeky this early in the morning." His whole face is bright red and pouty, but he's not about to admit a part of why his cheeks are on fire is because of how much he enjoyed the kisses.

"Worth it!" You grin dumbly at him, and he sighs playfully.

He has no idea what he's going to do with you and your antics.

For now, he's content with returning the favor – when the time is right, he'll strike back and kiss you all over.

[bubblyernie]

thinkin bout how when i was like 3, there was a boy in my daycare class who loved batman and i had a crush on him so when he's like "ill be batman, you be catwoman" i was like okay :) even though i knew fuckall about superheroes, i just liked cats and was like yeah ill be a cat girl

then when i was 8 my friend was really into warrior cats but i didn't know fuckall about warrior cats but we were roleplaying crazy warrior cat RP on the playground with forts and being on all fours and i didn't know i was rp'ing warrior cats, i just liked cats, and then didn't realize "oh that was what we were doing" until 10 years after

then when i was 12 i loved warrior cat animations/mep's but i never got into it, but i loved animation and art so i took up animation as a hobby and went into the arts as my career

and we've reeled all the way back around where I'm still not into batman (I'm 21) but i like cats and also brooding bisexual people so I've gone down a little rabbit hole of batman and catwoman fanart kicking my legs like teehee idk anything bout this but i sure love cats and catwoman

in like a MARGINALLY alternate universe, i would've been a furry who fucking LOVED warrior cats but instead I'm like a catgirl in spirit but not in practice, its like celebrating Christmas culturally but not religiously

[art-emis-moon]

But i admire your writing so much

Even so, my statement stays 😺

🐱 moderately intimidating

I'm a pirate, i demand more than moderate intimidation across these wretched lands you see

[swarmishstrangers]

feed us with mspar headcanons 🙏🙏

you get extra purple sprinkles if you do mspar headcanons with marvus

[[ explodes ]]

Oh. OH YOU WANT MSPAR HCS??? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?? HUH!!?...Ok teehee :}c

🍀Has a genuine caffeine addiction, not even playing. It's not so bad where they'll legitimately freak out and turn up the house if they don't get it, but they will get a KILLER, BRAINSPLITTING, headache from caffiene withdrawls + fatigue. Something they want to fix someday! But god...those headaches are hard to get over for them. They're supplier is, of course, Galekh. He really spoils them with the good stuff. He figures, what's the point in drinking coffee if it isn't the good kinds? He doesn't kick up a fuss if they ask him for a bad of whatever coffee grounds, he'd like for them to try. In fact, they bond over it actually.

🍀Kinda not great with comforting..with words! Their friend could have just vented to them about something that leaves them sobbing and Mspar, the fucking dumbass, kinda just there and is like, "Damn..that sucks, I'm sorry." They don't mean to sit around and twiddle their thumbs! Obviously, they try their best to comfort their friend, they just aren't always the most eloquent with their words so sometimes what they say can come out kind of strained and awkward. Much better with comforting people physically with hugs, rubbing their back, or letting them cry into them if needed. They just don't always know when they should deploy it? Cause trolls are so finicky and unpredictable to trying to gauge when it is or isn't okay to just be like, "Bring it in buddy, it's okay.." And go in for a hug or something. They think they're at least pretty good with discerning this for their closer friends.

🍀INCREDIBLY FUCKING LUCKY. Even outside of the initial control of Doc Scratch, and sure in some endings they die or it goes in a way it wasn't, otherwise? They're lucky. While there's definitely some existential stuff going on with them and who they really are, what they would be without their friends, had Doc Scratch not have been controlling them to some extent from afar..would they have ever really have even made any of the friends they did? They still consider it lucky to have even ever had them in their life. Outside of that, holy shit, how they survive some of the situations they do or are able to bounce back as fast as they do can be WILD to both trolls and humans. What they can they say? They just can't stop winning!

🍀Doesn't like working out tbh, they hate feeling so out of breath, they hate that taste of copper after having been running around for a while, that burning, itching sensation they get that feels like ants under their skin, etc. But catch them dead ever admitting it if it means that they can keep spending time with their more active friends, (Nihkee and Stelsa). Besides, in the end they know it won't kill them...er. Well, at least the jogging won't. Also it keeps those ROCKING legs in shape!!

🍀Did I mention having existential problems? I forgot to add they also deal with depression and dissociation problems smh.

🍦<- Be prepared to give me those sprinkles. Apologies in advance again, gonna try my best to characterize Marvus the best I can?? Aughh. Mspar I feel like, after a while, is one of those few people Marvus can trust to really let loose? Not as though he doesn't, but just like. More. He doesn't feel the need to look as pretty, to let those muscles relax (cause never really is, he's just really good at coming off as though he is lax). This feels GREAT if he was on a tour for weeks and he can just come back and be in the presence of someone who'll let him just chill out for a while. Pad Thai anyone?

🍦His sugar baby, his glucose grub, his uh. Insert other troll term for sugar baby. Jk!! Sort of..Marvus definitely gets them shit, and in return instead of something sexy, he gets their friendship cause DAMN Mspar!!! You pale friendslut!! You give them some cheap food and they're appreciative as fuck. But then again, they never ASK him for anything, they hate feeling like their mooching (even though they totally are and their friends don't gaf).

🍦Marvus sometimes does stretches, yoga poses, or these pretty contortionist poses. Mspar sometimes joins him for the stretches and poses part (hurt their back even TRYING to do the poses he does so effortlessly). While he's doing the more contortionist poses, sometimes Mspar gets stuck to places or tries on some places of his body. Think like..He laying down with his lower/middle back being bent with his long ass lanky legs in the air, then you got Mspar being airplaned by being held up by his feet. Adds a pressure to his body that he tends to like.

🍦OHH and uh, i've got one more for ya. Gonna admit, I don't know too much about chucklevoodoos or powers purplebloods tend to have, but um. Mspar has that ADHDtism, their mind is NEVER quiet. Always thinking, always running, so many thoughts, so many overlapping voices. It can be a real headache when they're just trying to rest but their brain is still active. I imagine on days when they're hanging out with Marvus, he can just..well, it's easy to tell. Cool fingers press to their head, rubbing over warm skin, claws teasing, biting as he scrapes them lightly over their scalp. Maybe he's humming with no real rhythm, but it's pretty all the while. They feel something be pushed, like their mind is being grabbed and like glass, something get's crushed (metaphorically), and when that hand opens it's palm, it's like all the sand in that dome runs out. And for once. They experience quiet.

[kittycarabiner]

Hiiiiiii! How are youuuu? I've been kinda quiet lately because the past week has been a whole lotta doom and gloom. :/ Plus I haven't even gotten my period yet so I've been dreading that on top of it all. Buuuuuuuut~ a drop in morale does mean that I've been masturbating like CRAZY. I've been rubbing at my clit so much this past week it's insane. I've even taken the opportunity to try out a few different positions to see what else I like. I'm usually on my back with my legs spread open but today I decided to scoot to the base of my mattress and bent over the corner and ooooooh my gosh- I don't know what it is about that position but I was so whiney and messy. Plus I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to have someone collar me from behind and then pull me up by the back of it to fuck into me and inadvertently push my clit into the mattress, bell on my collar jingling with every thrust. So that's definitely helped! :P

I've also caught my mind wondering about 🐈🐈🐕 a few times... There's just so many possibilities! Two precious kitties nudging into each other, licking and kissing any bit of skin they can reach, both desperately pawing at the puppy who is all too eager to please them both...

One of the kitties blindfolded and bouncing on the puppy's cock, whiney and oversensitive from the second kitty running their hands up and down her sides. Sliding over her ass and tits. Kissing her neck from behind and whispering how good she is and how well she's taking it. Meanwhile, the puppy's busy biting at the kitty with their nails gripping her hips. Muttering about how wet she is, how she takes it so easy, profanities and moans falling from their mouth as they start making out with her. Solely focussed on fucking her down onto their knot and breeding her tight hot cunt until she can't even remember her own name. Of course the second kitty will be sure to lick everything up once they're done. The puppy though, may not be satisfied with filling one hole, so while the second kitty is busy holding down the hips of the sweet fucked out princess, tongue dipping into her hole and kissing at her clit, the puppy will most definitely take the opportunity to rut their hips against the slit of the second kitty, maybe even slipping inside...

But of course I haven't been thinking about it THAT much... -3- ~<3

- 🐈🐈

teehee you had me giggling and kicking my feet i LOVE everything about this. 10/10!!!!

ugh and you're always so cute :( it's so adorable how needy you are. and telling me about it... youre so precious :3

i do so love 🐈🐈🐕 there are just so many possibilities!

and it's gotta be sloppy but full of love and excitement !!!! that's so perfect ugh

now i'll have to think about it too >:[

[mayuurx]

my wifeeee my wife my wife teehee kicking my legs my wife.

3, 5, 29 >x3c

also 9 and 13 for james i'm giving you a lot here darling

Cuckoo

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

Why- why would you want to hear him describing himself?

5. Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

You KNOW bun loves to talk. And he'll give a speech about anything and everything. No need for preparation. On the spot. Watch him pull a whole speech out of thin air for the heck of it.

Sure it can be some grandiose speech about something grand something great that you know he doesn't give two flying fuck about or it can be something like.

29. What recurring dreams do they have?

Hard! I think cuckoo's dreams are as random as his waking thoughts so I don't think cuckoo has a lot of recurring dreams.

I think maaaaybe possibly he can have some sort of prophetic dreams sometimes but either forgets it the next day or never mentions it to anyone. Plus they probably only occur for a while til it actually happens and that's it.

Other notable dream tropes are: eavesdropping on London citizens' thoughts, forbidden dream topic that leaves him in cold sweat when he wakes or opening his eyes to a giant levitating Lincoln head on a banana tree grown on a giant banana island and he's the banana.

I mean what were you expecting from this man from the start???

James

9. Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

He'll deny it but he does.

The less human resembling it is the more likely he'll empathize with them. So to put it simply, more likely to empathize with books than dolls.

He always forgets to water plants tho so that's that.

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

Violin. Dad taught wee tiny hooter.

[ermespop]

Ragefit

tw: graphic violence, self harm, crude language, blood, mentions of k*lling, one (1) allution to su*cide

a/n: my dad father (yes he has been demoted to father) did something really really bad that pissed me off, like something that is OBjectively BAD so i wrote this this morning to cope teehee~

I used an oc and her relationship with the class to portray the reader, I will make a story for her but this is completely apart from that. a whole stand alone.

also not me embodying the headcanon people have that izuku would write down all the bad things he wanted to do to bakugo to cope with his bullying 👀

She locked herself into her room. A guttural scream of pure rage pushing out of her throat as if letting it out was a primal need.

She held her head in her hands and then proceeded to repeatedly hit herself with her fists, she stumbled on her drawer pushing everything off of it and smashing it with her fists, regardless if it were her favorite things or things she bought with her own money, things fell and broke smashed against the ground. It didn't matter. She didn't care. She wanted out.

She kicked her drawer until one of the cabinets fell off, she kicked her bed until one of the legs gave out, punched the wall until it had a crack and she gave herself bloody knuckles. She went around her room destroying everything in it, including herself.

Lastly she made her way back to the door and bashed her head against it repeatedly, frantically, strongly. Her forehead and lips were painted red with the blood pouring down her face, even when there was a loud 'crack' that resonated in the room she wouldn't have stopped, if it wasn't for the fact that the next time she tried hitting the door her head went straight through it.

With her head bashed through the door it was easy to see, her eyes were red, blood dripping down her face, a crazed look painting her features. She looked like an animal.

[ ✧(🝦言🝦╬) ]

The girls were having a hang out in Yaomomo's room, the whole commotion was frightening to them, the sound of fourniture breaking and falling and the noises and screams coming out their classmate's dorm room were, at least, concerning.

"Should we… check what's going on?" Tooru spoke up the first.

Jiro responded while reading from her phone, "Sero says she just came back from home".

"Oh no," uraraka was covered her cheeks with her hands, "something really, really bad must have happened then".

Momo sighed, "well, who can check up on her? she's not exactly friends with any of us".

They all pondered. I mean, was it really good idea to check on her to begin with, she was acting pretty unhinged.

A loud crash shook them all out of their thoughts. They waited to hear something else, anything really but nothing came. it was… earily quiet.

"maybe we should call some of the boys up, ribbit. It's embarrassing, but i'm a little scared to go and check… ribbit." Tsuyu's cheeks reddened as she closed her eyes in shame.

"honestly? same", mina said and everyone imitated Tsuyu's expression.

[ ✧(🝦言🝦╬) ]

"Momo texted", Todoroki said looking up from his phone at Izuku, Iida and Bakugo.

"Uraraka texted us too" Izuku said referring to the groupchat they had with the class prez and Todoroki.

"And what the hell are they say—?" Bakugo was interrupted by the ringtone of his phone, the caller ID read 'Frog Face'. "Now what the hell?"

He picked the call.

"Bakugo, ribbit, we need you and some of the guys to check on L/n. Please, come up soon, ribbit." And then she hung up without letting him speak.

"…The fuck?!"

"Uraraka-kun says the same." spoke Iida while both him and Izuku looked at the texts confused.

"So does Momo".

Bakugo was the first to get up from the couch.

[ ✧(🝦言🝦╬) ]

When the boys stepped out of the elevator a growling head coming out of a closed door is the first thing they see.

"AAAAAAAAHHHRAGH AAAGHRGGAHH"

"What the actual fuck" Bakugo's eyes were wide in shock. His classmate was usually quiet and chill, she tended to be the most composed out of everyone. Why the heck is she struggling to get her head unstuck from a hole in her door?

Her bloody face was contorted in rage, a scream leaving her mouth; the wood of the door was stabbing and scratching at her neck giving her a blood collar, which was only getting worse everytime she tried to pull herself out of it.

Bakugo, Todoroki and Iida were rooted in place. Midoriya approached her first. With each step he took her eyes focused more on him and the closer he got the more frantic she became, until she pulled her head back out of the door, leaving a bigger hole in it.

She kicked the door, now getting her foot stuck but pulling it out immediately. She kicked it again and again until the door crashed down on the hallway. Another loud scream was heard.

She came out of her room looking rabid, with a crazed look on her face. Todoroki seemed to snap out of it and locked her in his ice, that would stop her for a while.

"We should call Aizawa sensei" Iida finally reacted. Though they didn't take into account that she would use her quirk. She took energy from breathing in a little too much, her lungs almost bursted, smoke came out of her nose when she broke off of the ice. Iida tried to stop her but she used more of her energy to speed up and rush inside her room.

The three boys followed her inside, stopping in their track for half a second to take in the disaster that was her room now. Shit. She took their shock as a headway to get out her balcony and start climbing up the building to the roof.

"You have to be fucking kidding." Bakugo stepped out and saw her running up the side of the building at max speed. He used his explosions to catch up to her, but she was faster. 'So, you can only control your quirk when you're out of your mind, fucking joke'.

He got to the roof a few second after her and found her standing in a corner, too close to the edge. A second after, the other three were close behind him standing on an ice platform.

"Is she—?"

"No. She won't jump." the green haired spoke, though he sounded unsure. 'Hopefully she won't'.

"Todoroki, trap her in ice again, but not her whole body" Izuku's voice was heard. "Iida, call Aizawa sensei, I'll make sure she doesn't run again."

"Forget that, I got it." Bakugo slowly stepped closer to her, she hasn't moved a muscle since they reached the roof. When he was close enough she slowly dropped on her knees. She was still far from calm, her hands were shaking and her jaw was tight, her eyes unfocused. He covered her eyes with his hands. Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a breath through her nose.

[ ✧(🝦言🝦╬) ]

'I'm gonna walk him like a damn dog, either to a mental institution or straigt down to hell. Whatever's closer.'

She sat on one of the common room couches staring up at the ceiling, a frown in her face. 'I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna kill him.' "He's dead", she muttered.

"Vengeance is not the answer" Iida seemed to hear what she said.

"Dont mind my shit or i'll rip your dick off" she glared up at him from her place on the couch before directing her eyes back to the ceiling.

"!!" the blue haired guy startled at her words, what was up with her? She wasn't like this before she left for the weekend.

"I'm sorry about what happened at your place, L/n… whatever it was". Todoroki spoke for the first time after seeing her, "you must be really pissed if you destroyed your room like that".

The rage infused girl groaned as a response.

In the silence, the girls came down from Momo's dorm at the same time Aizawa entered the common room.

They all asked different variants of 'what happened' and 'what's wrong'. Aizawa approched her on the couch noticing her battered up state and the dried blood on her face and neck. "L/n," he knelt down in front of her, "would you prefer I take care of your wounds or to go to recovery girl?"

"…", she glanced down at him before moving her head to face him.

"L/n?"

'Don't call me that'. She got up from the couch, "Imma walk myself to recovery girl".

"I'll go with her" Kirishima stepped forward with his hand raised. She sighed through her nose.

Recovery girl's office was quiet… and awkward. In the end Bakugo tagged along too with Tsuyu in tow.

"Shit" she muttered. 'And I thought I had changed. At least I didn't sucker punch any of them with my quirk… or worse', she sighed.

"Could any of you tell me how this all happened?" recovery girl spoke softly but the concern was evident in her voice. Everyone turned to look at the suspect, the culprit and the victim, L/n.

"I lost it in my dorm…"

Recovery girl waited for more elaboration but realized the girl wouldn't let up. "…Try not to hurt yourself next time" the older woman sighed.

"Next time, I'm killing someone", she whispered under her breath.

"Come again?"

"We'll see how that turns out."

a/n: if there are mistakes or the pacing is weird pls let me know kindly, I appreciate criticism but this is still a personal piece so have that in mind, thank you 😊🌷

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