#it keeps popping up and i see so much about it

[norikuna]

♩ (mdni) abstract — semi-public sex, in a library, fwb, canon!gojo x afab!reader

fwb!gojo satoru who's the cockiest man that you've ever seen. sure he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern day and age. and he's a good teacher to his students. but he doesn't give a fuck about deadlines, or being a decent coworker, or being polite and quiet in the staffroom — and it's enough to send you up the wall.

he also doesn't give a fuck about being quiet when he's drilling his solid inches into you. gojo clearly doesn't care for noise when he's got bruising fingertips pressed into your hips. when he's got your staff uniform pulled to the side so the fat tip of his cock can slap thick wisps of pre against your clit.

"ya' can feel that right, sweets," gojo's chuckling, teasing and so full of himself as he sees you sink your teeth into your lower lip, trying to keep your whines quiet, huffing and snapping at the shell of his ear.

"y'know we hafta' be quiet, right, mmph — satoru!" you don't get to finish admonishing him because he swallows your concerns in a messy kiss, all clashing teeth and tongue as he slowly pushes his fat tip past your glossy, winking entrance.

and what a sight, to know that this is how you can undo the most powerful man to walk the earth, to see his pale-pink lips drop open as his blue eyes glaze over. to know that he's losing himself in the tight heat of your pretty cunt, and he's not even halfway in yet.

"s-sorry, what was that, sweets?" he's gasping into the crook of your neck, a large hand on your thigh, manoeuvring your leg wider so he can slot his frame in between your legs, "didn't quite catch t-that, woah. it's like she's got magical powers or something." all sleazy grins and bashful smirks as he pats at the mound of your groin, right where his own hips are now tacked to yours, glistening.

"charming, satoru," you breathe out, trying not to let on that you're just as affected as he is, "b-but the students, they're gonna — hnngh," your words are cut off as he bottoms out with a slick pop! but you're never one to give up, digging your nails into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. you thread your fingers into the soft hairs of his undercut, letting satoru practically purr above you, "they could walk in any minute, don'tcha think?"

it's clear that it's not a pressing concern to gojo right now, because he just suddenly leans back, rolling his hips slowly into yours so each angry and thick vein must be swabbing your insides, "ya' think too much, sweets. there's, hah, none on campus right n-now," and he bestows a shiny, spit-slick kiss upon your waiting lips again, "it's just you and me, ohhh — and her 'course."

you respond with a strong clench of your gummy walls around his cock, and the hand that wasn't holding your thigh up ends up slamming down hard on the oaken desk, sending books and stray papers to the floor as he huffs, "w-whoops, yer' just takin' me in sooo good, fuck, i really needed this sweets, ya' got no idea. stupid higher ups got me run dry. and you looked s-so damn good in that meeting, couldn't focus," and he's babbling now, "couldn't focus and knew i had to sneak ya' back out here, get you on my cock."

you swipe a thumb over his candy lips, all mint and sugar, as you mewl in pleasure, having him batter your guts over and over so you're imprinted against his sculpted abdomen, "you gon' pull outta me if i make a stupid joke about me milking you dry?" and gojo snickers but it quickly turns into a breathy moan, "tch, ya' don't think that's w-what i want? always so good at doin' this. why don't ya' just let me take you out properly?"

[finelinevogue]

useless

summary - azriel helps you put your shirt on after you’ve broken your arm

word count - +1k

🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

You huffed in annoyance at Azriel stating the obvious, not because he was stating the obvious but because of what he was talking about.

“It’s not my fault I broke my arm.” You pouted.

You groaned and threw your shirt to the ground, giving up completely with trying to put it on.

Azriel was clearly taunting you as he slipped a shirt over his head, his wings popping out the back.

You gave him the dead-eye look as he crossed his tanned arms across his chest, raising one of his eyebrows as he watched you.

Damn him and his beauty.

“What’s going on here?” Cassian opened your bedroom door to peak in.

“Y/N’s being a brat:” Azriel said quickly, not looking away from you.

“Riight… I’m going to leave whatever weird foreplay thing is going on here…” Cassian said awkwardly, leaving the room slowly and shutting the door behind him.

Azriel didn’t crack a smile, but you unfortunately did.

You quickly wiped the smirk off your face though, knowing Azriel would take advantage of it somehow.

“You wish this was foreplay, but the only action you’re getting tonight is with your own hand.” You muttered to Azriel.

You wandered past him with your shirt and onto the balcony just off to the side of your room, needing some air before you tried again.

If it weren’t for those rebels in the city you wouldn’t have fallen, which means your arm would still be fine. As it happens, though, the rebels were more important to seek out and get rid of than you and your arm. If a broken arm was the result of stopping bad people do bad things, then so be it.

Didn’t stop it from being annoying to deal with.

Simple chores were now a pain to do.

Things like making a cup of tea, or making Azriel dinner, cleaning or writing up reports for Rhysand were near impossible now. It left you very dependent on others - on your mate, Azriel.

“Will you stop being so stubborn.” Azriel said from where he stood, leaning against the door frame to the balcony.

“Stop, Azriel.”

He sighed knowing you were getting frustrated - something he knew because you never used his full name with him.

“I didn’t realise me trying to help you make me a jerk.” He said bravely.

Sometimes they key with you was to keep pushing.

You scrunched up your shirt and threw it onto the floor.

You walked to the stone balcony, holding your broken arm in your other and cupping them protectively across your chest.

The sun had set perfectly and there were a mesmerising number of twinkling stars watching over you in that moment. The sky was as dark as Azriel’s shadows—

Azriel.

You were the jerk, not him. You sighed heavily, dipping your chin and tugging softly on the golden bond to see if you could fix this situation you’d made a mess of.

The comfort quite literally encased you as Azriel’s arms came to prop up against the balcony on each side of your body, propping his chin on the shoulder of your good arm.

His chest moulded against your back and your body instantly deflated, feeling so comforted by Azriel’s presence.

“I’m right here.” Azriel said, pulling the bond gently in gesture.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He said, kissing your neck carefully in hopes that it would continue to calm you.

“I’ve been so horrible.”

“I don’t think so.” You could feel Azriel shaking his head slightly against your shoulder. “Look at me, come here.”

Azriel stood back, twisting you around to face him with your back against the balcony.

Your arm was still held in your other and Azriel cupped your cheeks delicately - he knew how much you loved the feeling of his skin against yours. He could feel your love pour down the bond as his scarred fingers brushed over your cheeks.

“I feel useless.” You admitted, looking into his soft hazel eyes.

“Okay.” He prompted you to continue.

“Since I broke my arm I can’t do anything and I feel like I’m being a waste of space - especially if I’m taking you away from important things just to help me dress myself.”

“Are you done?”

“No. If I had just…”

Azriel’s thumb shifts from your cheek to press against your lips, stopping you from speaking.

“That was rhetorical.” He removed his thumb as he spoke, “You are not useless. You’re the damn most important thing in my life and I’ll not have you thinking that you’re anything less than that. Y/N, love, you helped stopped a group of bad people from bringing terror to our city. I’d say that’s nothing short of heroic. So enough with the uselessness thoughts. I enjoy waiting on you, making you breakfast in bed, helping you with paperwork. Every moment we’re together is enough for me, whether you’ve got a broken arm or not.”

You smiled properly for the first time in a while.

Whilst your mate tells you you’re perfect every chance he gets, it doesn’t hurt to hear him say it like that.

“What?” Azriel asked, watching the glint in your eyes sparkle as bright as those stars on the backdrop above you.

“Help me put on my top?”

“Or you could just help me take mine off…” He said suggestively.

You gave him a smirk and pushed him back into the room, watching him take off his own shirt and throw it on the floor. You didn’t care for where it landed. All you cared about was your beautiful mate in front of you and showing him how helpful you can actually be.

[fallbhind]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝚰𝐋𝐅

ਏਓ WARNINGS: angst, smut, unprotected sex, make up sex(?), p in v, crying, arguments, chris gets pissed, reader get’s dragged by chris, DILF!CHRIS x CRYBABY!READER ✹

the last thing you expected was to be a dilf’s sneaky link. well—not sneaky link, but secret hook ups. god, it was every single dilf trope, except you wouldn’t admit, but you were such a crybaby brat. you didn’t get the exact louie vuttion bag you wanted, tears that could make the new niagara falls. you didn’t get your way, tears. if you got even a little bit hurt, tears.

who was to blame for all this crybaby behavior? your deadbeat dad, who to keep you happy, gave you everything you want. almost like it was a trade for being a terrible dad. then you moved with your mom, and next door was that hot divorced dilf that all the single moms, married moms, and any mom in between drooled on. even your mom talked about him with a vulgar meaning behind it. but kitty did she know—her pretty daughter was the reason he rejected every single mom who tried to get him to go on a date with them.

this week was your lucky week. though you did miss his daughter (who was often the excuse for you to go over and see him). she was back in chicago with her mom.

you laid sprawled out on his bed, whinging about how college was way to hard for you. which was something you did on a daily either way. no matter how much chris wanted to each over and pop your mouth. he nodded to your constant complain, scrolling on his phone.

then—you decided to whine about chris not paying you enough attention. “and don’t even get me started on how you’re always so busy scrolling on your phone when anne isn’t here.” you huffed frustratedly. of course, he somewhat understood were you were coming from but it was so hard to understand we’re a literal college student is coming from. “it’s not fair!” you shouted, even then, when you were complaining about him, he still didn’t give you enough attention.

“you know what isn’t fair?” chris hissed, grabbing ahold of your chin, “that i have to put up with a whiny fucking crybaby who does nothing but complain about everything because she’s a brat!” he shouted in your face. the tears ebbed at your waterline as you forcefully shoved chris away, heading for the door.

“fuck—baby ‘m sorry—” he stumbled over his words. now he was the bad guy. “—come back kid, i didn’t mean it.” his hand grasped at your wrist, a hold that you once went into, you tore away from. but these tears, they weren’t your regular crybaby tears, god, he made you cry-cry. he was actually the asshole.

you didn’t seem to care people would have seen you walking out of chris’ house in tears, knowing the speculations it would start, but he did. he was scared that his single-dad reputation would be tarnished because of a college student. now that, that was scary.

and your reputation would be just as bad, the dilf whore. sure that’s what you were—but it was supposed to be kept on the down low. as you reached for the doorknobs, the color in chris’ face drained. he grabbed ahold of the scruff of your neck, pulling you back, his free hand closing the door. it wasn’t like he was going hold you hostage or anything, he was just going make you take the route you usually go. out the back, over the fence.

“i know, i know.” he soothed, leading you towards the back door. he felt like he was caring for a child. a bratty one. he opened the door, pushing you out. he looked at your sunken, tear filled eyes, like waiting for you to decide whether you were gonna stay or go.

you looked at him, sniffing softly before answering the look. “i think we should take a break.” no matter the amount of begging or pleading he did, he knew you wouldn’t change your mind.

throughout that week of not seeing you, he became utterly miserable. then his little girl came home. and he wasn’t as miserable, pretty much like before you moved, just him and anne. then one day, you showed up with cookies at his door. he was so happy, trigger happy, almost. “kid, i missed you so much.” you ignored him, like you should, shoving the plate of cookies in his hand, immediately turning to walk away.

“wait—please.” he begged, “let’s talk.”

his fingers gripped onto your shoulder like you were his life support. “come in?” at first, you were going to reply with a stark remark, but like normal, tears overcame that. you looked at him with a soft nodded, making your way in. chris did not miss those tears.

his shoulders slumped. “anne had a sugar crash. should be out for an hour.” he muttered as he sat the cookies on the table before guiding you back to his room. you stood awkwardly, ditto with chris. he stared at you. “look— i’m sorry about last week, i was just frustrated and you, you just kept complaining and i snapped. it won’t happen again—just, take me back?” he begged, almost pathetically. you nodded softly, not needing any more explanation. why should you? you were a college crybaby brat. and chris, chris loved you, maybe?

there, it that room solidified the new mark in your and chris’ relationship. his hands tender, pushed your hips into his, whispering softly. “we have fifteen minutes.” aka, twenty minutes for make up sex.

you nodded softly as he gently pushed you down onto the bed, tenderly pressing kisses against your neck, nipping at your throat. you let out a soft gasp of surprise from the sudden contact of his teeth. he pushed his pirate girl tee off, your glossy lips pressing kisses up against his chest. drawing out a long guttural groan from his chest.

he slowly unbuttoned your jeans, pulling the zipper down, whispering soft praises about how you looked oh so good underneath him. “i love you baby.” chris whispered softly, pushing the pair of jeans down. then he got to your underwear, it was lace—god, you were asking for more then you you handle. as he tugged the pair of pink lace underwear, showed the stringy line connecting to your hole, all the way to the damp spot on your underwear, bunching them up before shoving it he pair in your pockets.

then he thrusted his sweats down with a thrust of his hand, following his boxers. you let out a soft whine, as if to say he wasn’t going fast enough. “i know—just wait.” he grunted through his teeth, observing your body, pushing off your shirt. “function better with less on.” he stated, with that little of a reason on why he did what he did, he decided to get started.

chris aligned your hole with his cock, thrusting himself into you. you gasped, feeling cock in your gummy walls, your nails already attacking his back. “fuck, ma—” he grunted, “—try to keep the scratching to a minimum.” said chris airlessly. gosh, chris had barely moved in you, and your walls were all ready straining his cock. goes to show how desperate you really get without being dicked down every other week.

he started off with slow, paced strokes. going as gentle as possible—but man did he just want to devour the shit out of your tight cunt.

after he started to go off with faster strokes, his body moving with it, letting out soft grunts as you let out futile soft moans. your back arched off the bed, one of chris’ hand gripping onto your hips, readjusting as needed over time, the other settled on his forearm above your head to keep balance.

soon, tears ebbed at your waterline—what was wrong now?

you writhed against the thrusts chris delivered, your back arching further off the bed, your arms moving to wrap around the back of his neck. “sorry—it jus’, it jus’ feels s’good!” you cried out. his shoulder visibly relaxed when you admitted to it feeling good.

“i know.” he said cockily, deepening his thrust til he hit your g spot. you let out a moan that was a little to loud for his comfort, the hand resting on your hip, going to cover your mouth as he bullied your gummy walls. squelching filled the noise that was once your moans of sheer pleasure. your body tensed against chris’, coming on his cock, chris following not to long after you did.

[pickledkiwiberry]

I can't find the exact one but one of my favorite childhood CD holders looked something like the above. It was a plastic transparent-but-not-see-through drawer that you opened by pushing into the front to pop it open, and then the front part would pop forwards a little to make it easier to access.

The inside was a bunch of soft sleeves attached to the drawer that you could sort your CDs into. I remember not having very much room and pushing CDs together and very carefully sliding them in to avoid scratching them because I was a child and couldn't just go out and buy new CD holders.

That, combined with spindles like this:

And books like in the original post were everywhere in my home.

And let me tell you: I preferred the floppy disks so much. I had a bunch of 3½" floppy disks (the kind where they're hard plastic and only the internal diskette is still floppy, vs the older kinds where the whole thing was floppy) and they were so nice because they were much easier to store safely, could be rewritten multiple times, and just felt really great to use (the ker-klunk when sliding them in, the ker-pop when ejecting them).

Not nearly as much storage space but files were so small back then. CDs were more for storing larger archival data (backups) and software (installers, games), and floppies were how I moved files around between computers. How I shared them.

I never used zip drives or any of that family. I didn't need that much storage space.

But man I really would love to go to an era where the evolution of the ZIP drive, the Clik drive, was the norm.

Mainly for aesthetic reasons. I think USB drives are fine, but they don't have the satisfying clicks and ejects.

More than anything, though, I wish that people still relied on physical media the way they used to. Now everything's being sent around in cloud storage servers, and backed up to cloud storage servers, and lost in cloud storage server sync failures...

Physical media was so much more under your own control. You didn't have to worry about people tracking what you were doing (even if you think you're not breaking any laws, trust me when I say you'll end up with a record if anybody truly audited your life against the books; so many things that seem intuitively fine are either breach of contract from an EULA you didn't read well enough or surprisingly criminal). You didn't have to worry about the cloud service going offline. Or losing internet.

Electricity was out? As long as you had a generator, those files were still accessible. (I didn't have a generator... couldn't install one in the condos I grew up in, which sucked considering the amount of power outages.)

Internet is so much less reliable by comparison. Cloud providers even less so.

Sure, you had to keep your physical media in the right conditions. The right temperature, humidity, etc. But in my opinion, that's much easier than making sure that your account is secure at all times.

IDK. This sort of thing is why I'm a big fan of Cassette Futurism era of Cyberpunk. The modern Internet-focused Cyberpunk narratives are great for writing dystopian fiction, but the old "haha I stored your soul on a mini CD" era has so much aesthetic appeal and comfort to me.

[evieelyzabethh]

"awkward"

⭒"you look at me different, so i let you see my body"⭒ Arcane characters walking in on you changing (modern au!, pre-relationship) {fem!reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce

cw ☞ slightly suggestive for everyone, slightly pervy jayce + airheaded!reader

♞Vi♞

♞Shocker to no one, Vi doesn't often knock before she enters a room. It's a bad habit she keeps meaning to get better about, but with how often she hangs around your apartment, she thinks of it as her own place. Why would she knock to go into your room? She doesn't knock to enter her own bedroom, and yours is interchangeable to her. Besides, you've been friends for years, there really isn't much she could see that would surprise her. You used to bathe together for fucks sake, granted that was before either of you could speak and ended before your adolescent tongue had figured out how to properly pronounce the letter V, but still.

♞If not for her sake, at least for yours. The number of nights you'd thought your house was broken into only to find it was Vi in your kitchen making herself a sandwich was starting to get a bit ridiculous. It's not even like she's particularly stealthy, she really can't sneak around to save her life, but sometimes you really wonder about putting a bell around her neck.

♞You knew she was heading out before you got in the shower only because she shouted it through the door. You didn't hear much through the pressure of the water mixing with the music you had blasting, but you thought you heard the door shut faintly and that was enough to start your everything shower in what you thought was complete solitude. You thought you would've been met with empty air and the clothes you set out on your bed when you left the bathroom towel-less, but you were sadly mistaken. Vi, however, was pleasantly surprised.

You didn't notice her at first as she was on her knees on the opposite side of your bed, feeling around the floor with phone flashlight dimly lighting the dark space beneath your bed. The sound of the door shutting behind you gains her attention, her head popping up to see you...in front of her...naked. Your first instinct is to scream as you grab your clothes and try to figure out what's more important to cover. She sits there dumbfounded with her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide. "Violet!" You shout, wishing she would cover her eyes rather than her gaping mouth, but she is practically frozen until you shout her full name. "Violet?" It almost sounds foreign coming from your lips. Her brows furrow in confusion. Who's Violet? It doesn't help not much is happening behind those eyes. The lights are on, and no one is home. You could've called her Vi and she still would've been perplexed. "That is your name isn't it." Is it? It is! She's Violet, you're her best friend of years...naked and so very attractive and shit she's staring. She stands up quickly, maybe too quickly as she stumbles over her feet as she desperately tries to turn herself around or at least avert her gaze. "Yeah, but I only get the Violet treatment when I do something wrong. I didn't mean to catch you fresh out the shower." "You weren't supposed to be here. Didn't you say you were going to the gym or something!" Getting dressed is made infinitely harder while trying to avoid her gaze. You somehow managed to nearly put your pants on backwards during your struggle. "I mean I was but then I got hungry, so I made something to eat and then I remembered that I left my keys in here, so I came back for them." "And you didn't think to knock?!" The funny thing is, you had fantasized about this scenario before, but it's kinda like how dancing in the rain looks so much more fun in the movies than it feels in actuality. In a porno, yeah, this would be great. She'd throw you on the bed, you'd play coy before eventually confessing you had been waiting for this to happen, and the sound of fireworks in the distance would be covered by the sound of your headboard banging against the wall. You weren't prepared for this. You'd think that would make it hotter, but performance takes some preparation. Spontaneity needs at least the possibility of it happening, and as far as you knew she was hot, sweaty, and punching a sandbag half an hour away. "Please stop yelling at me with your tits out, I can't focus." You collect your bearings long enough to hook the closures on your bra and throw a shirt over your head, completely out of breath and exhausted. "Vi, I don't know why your keys would be in here. Last I saw them, they were on the couch." Her cheeks red, her eyes wide, and her lips pursed, she has a thought for the first time in the past ten minutes. Shit, I did leave my keys there. Not knowing how to leave the situation, she robotically walks to your door, her head down in shame as she mumbles apology after apology and doesn't breathe until the door shuts behind her. When she gets over the initial shock, she does have a bit of pep in her step for the rest of the day. To put it simply, she was given a joy that no one would be able to take from her for at least a month.

★Ekko★

★He thinks he's great at acting nonchalant after the fact, but he is in shambles. It's even worse that you weren't great friends beforehand. Like, if he was to say 'hello' of course you'd say it back, but it was really nothing more than that. Passing acquaintances who, at least for him, was desperately in love with the other to the point of roses, pearls, and unsent love letters.

★He's willing to admit it was completely his fault. You were close enough, or rather it was his way of flirting and trying to get closer to you, that he would swing by and use you as a recipe tester. You were just down the hall from him, practically neighbors, and what was more neighborly than brining by a plate of food every once in a while. He was still workshopping some dumpling recipe, unsure if he got the texture of the wrapper quite right, and he didn't give you any notice, figuring that if you were too busy you just wouldn't open the door for him. When he shows up and you open the door for him, looking as if you had just woken up, he's too distracted to listen to the words coming from your mouth to register that you just told him you were about to get in the shower and that you'd be out in a bit.

★He tentatively waits in your living room for a few minutes, hot plate growing lukewarm in his lap as he twiddles his thumbs on your couch when he hears a large bang come from your room. Being the chivalrous, brave young man Ekko is, he barges in without a second thought, immediately distracted by the sight of you completely topless. He freezes, but only for a moment, swinging the door closed and shouting 'I'm sorry!" from behind it as he basks in his shame on the couch.

It's been a week. A terrible, miserable week of sleepless nights and forced smiles and shame. A terrible week for Ekko that is, Scar finds it hilarious how often he fucks up his words to the point of silence. If the humiliation wasn't bad enough, he hasn't built the courage to even be seen by you. Any place possible to cross paths, in the downstairs lobby to get mail or on the stairs after a grocery trip, his usual dopey smile flashes by in an instant as he moves to duck his head. No 'hello', just the jingling of his keys in the lock and the slamming of his door. You think its endearing how embarrassed he is. It makes you feel even better about how embarrassed you are. Your friends had to have gotten sick of you by now with how often you think about it. "Do you think he saw...them?" you ask, the answer already in your head but you're hoping someone is going to feed your delusions or at least lie to you. "Girl, of course he saw them, he's a lovesick idiot, not blind." You hate how nonchalantly she says it, as if you haven't been crushing on this guy for weeks and him seeing your bare chest is just a normal Tuesday afternoon. "Well, then why hasn't he said anything since?" Because surely, he would. Right? And, believe me, he does want to say something. In his own apartment he's talking to his roommate, Scar, about it, forcing him to roleplay as you, which he does begrudgingly only so he can hold it over his head later. Not that Scar is any help, he does your voice all wrong and slaps him every time he starts to ramble. "Because he's too busy still thinking about it. I really don't know what you're so upset about. You gave him another reason to be obsessed with you." Yeah, and it's absolutely killing him. He feels gross, like some pervy teenage boy. Like a peeping tom! Ekko is a nice young man. He respects women! He doesn't even say the word 'bitch', and he knows that you're much more than your figure. His heart knows and his brain knows. His dick doesn't, but that doesn't matter!! When he decides to settle this once and for all, he is a complete wreck. His palms are sweaty, he spent more time than usual picking an outfit that screamed 'I'm not a pervy loser', he even got you flowers to make the apology really official. After standing at your doorstep for a few minutes to work up the nerve, he eventually knocks, slightly surprised when you answer the door as quickly as you do. You stare at each other for a few moments, flowers awkwardly thrust into your hands as he licks his lips and wipes the moisture of his hands onto his pants. "Hey, so I just wanted to apologize for a couple days ago when I totally accidentally and absolutely not on purpose at all caught you while changing. I heard a bang, and I went to go check it out and I wasn't thinking before I went in there which is totally my bad. I completely understand if you feel violated and if you would like you never have to see my face every again, but I really just wanted to come by and make it abundantly clear that I am not some gross creepy guy and I never wanted to make you uncomfortable and-" "Ekko?" He's so glad you stopped him when you did because he could feel himself going blue in the face from how fast he forced his words out. "It's cool. We're good." "We are?" If he wasn't standing right in front you, he may have just literally jumped for joy. "Yes, Ekko, it's ok. I was more concerned when you started avoiding me. I thought you were like grossed out or something." And he doesn't know how to respond. Something tells him that saying you have a nice rack is probably not the way to go. "NO! I mean, no I wasn't grossed out. If I may, you looked really pretty, not that I saw much anyway. Your towel covered the...important stuff. I just assumed you would want your space from me after that." "If I wanted space, I would've asked. I missed you." He could faint after hearing that. "Yeah, I missed you too."

❂Jayce ❂

❂His crush on you is starting to get really embarrassing, actually. He signs his notes with his first name and your last name, he's giving himself pep-talks in his foggy bathroom mirror, and the number of wet dreams is really starting to get out of hand. It's not like he hasn't imagined what you'd look like undressed before he sees it, on the contrary, some of those dreams are so realistic he gets confused when you don't acknowledge them.

❂He is starting to make progress, by which I mean he was convinced by Mel to start interacting with you like a normal human rather than staring at you from a far. He invites you over to his place, he gets invited to yours, to everyone but you it's very obvious that he's courting you. You don't think much of your walks around the gardens, your coffee shop meetups, or when he invites you to nice events. You think he's just another one of your friends.

❂Jayce knew you liked shopping, why else would you ask him to accompany you so often. At first, he thought it was your way of flirting with him, or at the very least your way of getting someone else to carry your bags, but everything is very platonic. Does it hurt it bit when he finds out you only ask him as a last resort when your girlfriends are unavailable, yeah, but he gets to join you in the changing room, so he doesn't have much of a problem with it.

You had been in this shopping mall for hours, or at least it felt that way. His feet hurt, there were rings starting to form on his arm from where he held your bags, he felt like he was getting a workout in from all the shoe boxes that were shoved into his arms. He could barely see what store he was being dragged into, only feeling the warmth of your hand wrap around his. It wasn't until an employee offered to take the load off him that he sees you're in yet another clothing store. What started as last minute Christmas shopping eventually became buying a whole new winter wardrobe. You had already gone through everyone on your list, including him. You forced him to wait outside of the store with his eyes closed as you asked the man behind the counter to wrap it for you and ship it to your address. He wishes you weren't so good at keeping secrets, because he certainly worked at getting it out of you before giving up after you switched the conversation topic for the umpteenth time. Now, he aimlessly walked around a few paces behind you, occasionally rubbing a piece of fabric between his fingers as you hop from rack-to-rack flitting through sizes and adding looping another hanger over your arm. Occasionally, you'll hold up a skirt or a top and ask his opinion on the color or whether or not they go together, to which he responds to the best of his ability. 'No, I think you should go with the other color; compliments your undertones better.' or 'I would go with the tighter skirt, the flowy one doesn't match the top'. He thinks he's gotten better at shopping with you. You used to look at him like he was crazy when he gave his opinion, but recently he's overheard one of your girlfriends say, you've trained him well. After thoroughly moving through all the displays, you make your way to the fitting rooms, going back and forth with attendant who gives him a death glare as he walks past. "The fitting rooms are only meant for one person." He knew what that tone meant. I don't get paid enough to clean cum out of those cubbies. "Oh, don't worry about it, he's just a friend." The man looks him up and down while Jayce stands there awkwardly, hands clasped together behind his back with a strained smile on his face. "Right..." And bless your heart because you are not picking up on his disgust or distrust that what you're saying is true. "Right! So, if you'll excuse us-" Jayce would look smugly back at the man but he knows exactly how honest you're being. He wishes you two were about to fuck back here, God know he's been thinking about on everyone one of these trips. Instead, he sits on the small wooden stool provided, half of him hanging off of it, as you close the door behind you and meticulously sort the clothes you picked out. He struggles on where to place his gaze as you strip nonchalantly, folding whatever you had on carefully and setting in on his bouncing thigh as he prays to whatever God there is that if he's already hard you're either to kind to say anything about it or too preoccupied to notice it. He's trying his best not to stare at how your tits fill out that bra, but with how long it's taking you to figure out the strappy shirt you picked out and how cramped the room is, of course his eyes naturally flit to them and stay there. By the time you figure it out, his eyes may as well be cartoonishly popping out of his skull. "What do you think?", you ask cheerfully, still playing with the straps and flattening out the fabric against your skin. "I like you." "Aw, I like you too, Jay; you have good taste in shoes. Now what about the top?"

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Happy New Year!

Ah, this year has been so wonderful! Sharing my writing again has been such a great experience, and I'm thrilled with the growing community we've created!! Here's to next year with much more love of Jason Todd 💙 ~ 800 words

Gotham is alive on New Years. Every occupied apartment, every sleazy club, and every upstanding venue pounds with music and laughter and a quiet, hopeful idea that the year that comes will be better.

Drinks are plenty, and the food is delicious for anyone invited (or quick enough to sneak into) The Wayne New Year Spectacular Gala. There's a not-so-secret surprise fireworks show planned, and you've heard from the source just how hard it was to secure permits, so you can only guess how extravagant they're going to be tonight.

But you're sure it's going to be beautiful, so sure, in fact, you've left the warmth of your apartment and the comfort of your tv to sit on the rooftop to enjoy them. Armed with more than a couple of blankets, a thermos, and a couple snacks stuffed in the pockets of your hoodie, you hardly feel the December chill in the air.

It's peaceful, even as the last few minutes of the year start to tick down, there's an excitement that makes your heart pound. It's almost perfect, almost picturesque.

And then it is.

Boots hit the concrete and you turn your head just in time to see Jason pulling off his helmet, an easy, happy grin on his face despite his accusing words, "You're gonna freeze out here."

You match his smile, eyes lighting up as he saunters over to you to sit down and press his weight and warmth to your side, "Don't you have patrol?"

He hums, more interested in throwing an arm over your shoulder to draw you closer than the criminals he's supposed to be chasing after, "I have some time. Batgirl drew the short straw, and she can handle whatever Calendar Man came up with."

You nearly giggle at the thought, "I think the news said something about a clock?"

Jason drops his head to rest it on top of yours, idly rubbing his hand up and down your arm to stave off the cold, "It's cliché, whatever he's doing. The real question is why you're out here."

"Fireworks are supposed to go off at midnight," you mumble, draping your blanket over his legs in return for his touch, "Supposed to be the biggest show Gotham's ever seen."

"That so," he questions, leaning back slightly to grin at you, eyes narrowing like he knows something you don't, "I guess that's useful."

"Why's that," You ask, torn between keeping your eyes on the skyline in anticipation or watching the way his adoring gaze flickers over your face.

"Then I'll know when to kiss you," he tells you, clearly proud of his revelation.

It's corny, and so cheesy that you have to laugh and elbow his arm, "Are you asking me to be your New Year's kiss, Casanova?"

He nods, eager as he catches your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, "I am asking, but I'm not above begging either."

You open your mouth to tease him more, to really make him work for your kisses, even if you are happy to give them. At least you were, until flashes of color fill the sky– yellows, purples, reds, blues, and greens light up his face in a myriad of shining lights.

The bangs and pops of the fireworks don't register as Jason tilts his head at you, voice going from smug to low and reverent, "Happy New Year, sweetheart."

He's beautiful in the rainbow of colors filling the night sky, and you're hit with such a wave of fondness– gratefulness– love– that you surge forward to kiss him.

He kisses you back just as eagerly, one hand cradling your face so gently you can't help but melt into him. Kissing him always takes your breath away, but this feels special– more– a beginning to a year with so much promise, and all with him.

You finally pull when your lungs start to burn, "Happy New Year, Jason," you breathe out, "I love you."

He wears the same expression every time he hears you say it. Awe paints his face as he traces his thumb over your cheek, "I love you," he echoes, pressing his forehead to yours.

You revel in his touch for a moment before turning to watch the lights, curling into him as he kisses the crown of your head. It's sweet, blissful, more than you could ever dare to dream of.

Jason tugs you closer to his side, squeezing you once, then twice as he focuses his attention back towards the fireworks. The cheers that sound through the Gotham air ring in the New Year, and when the sparkling lights start to fill the sky with such brightness it almost seems like day, you know the year that comes next will be full of love– of him– and all the good that comes with it.

[sschizoid]

Hello :3 may I pretty please request like, hcs of the tulpar crew traveling together?

I mean imagine this, they gather all their last paychecks from Pony Express and decide a place to go, how, what to see...etc

I just think I'd have some fun dynamics

omg hehe this ask has so much room for fun interpretation, like where are they going, how they're getting there, etc. but I think I'm gonna narrow this down tooooo badadadadadadadadum AIRPORT! where they're going is up to you!

-- curly

he's what you would call an Airport Dad™. wakes up EARLY to pack everything into the car and to pick everyone else up. keeps worrying that they're going to be late but they end up arriving 3 hours before boarding

overpacks. has a checked luggage just barely within weight parameters, as well as a carry-on AND a backpack. he packs for every scenario, every weather type, every activity

he's the one that bought everybody's ticket and holds onto them for safekeeping. he's also got one of those airline SkyMile credit cards, so he got everyone a pretty good deal regarding expenses!

brought one of those neck pillows since he gets stiff pretty easily when sitting down for too long. also brought one of those cooling eye masks and comfy socks. bro is the plane equivalent of a passenger princess

jimmy

he was still sleeping when curly got to his house. oh also he forgot to pack the night before, so he makes everyone wait in the car for 30 extra minutes while he takes his sweet ass time shoving random shit into a backpack

probably the least traveled of the group. his family never took vacations when he was growing up, so the furthest he's been from home is just a state or two, and even then it was just for work and not leisure

takes up as much space as humanly possible, stretching his legs, spreading his elbows wide, etc. if the person sitting next to him tries to ask for a bit more space, he puts on headphones after the fact then pretends he doesn't hear them

definitely the type to glare at the mother of a crying baby in hopes of making her feel embarrassed or ashamed

anya

super forgetful and cannot remember if she packed toiletries or not. oh god, what about socks? did she pack socks ??? ends up spending $50 on various airport-priced items just in case

lowkey really scared of flying. she's done it tons of times before but still white-knuckle clenches the armrests during takeoff

brings lots of books. this is a great time for her to catch up on the reading she's been putting off with all of her work and schooling

never gets to reading said books, and instead sleeps like a log the whole trip. she's tired !!

swansea

was the only person ready in time when curly came around to pick everyone up. like, standing outside on the porch, bags at his feet ready

waits 20 minutes in line for coffee, but when he gets to the front and sees that a 12oz black drip is $5 he turns around and walks away. complains about airport prices for the next few hours, talking about "highway robbery" until they're finally boarded

"remember to pop your ears, you'll get a headache if you don't"

aisle seat. NEEDS an aisle seat. if the ticket curly bought him isn't in the aisle, he'll shamelessly ask other passengers to switch with him. he likes the extra leg room and ease of access to the bathroom

daisuke

makes the metal detector go off multiple times. "oops, forgot my belt!" BEEP "oh, man, that's probably my keys, sorry." BEEP "oh shit, my phone!" BEEP "waitwaitwait hold on hold on—"

his goal is to be that one person you see in passing at the airport that is just the most beautiful stranger you've ever seen. his hair? styled. his skin? dewy. his fit? fun, colorful, and literally insane for the setting. he dresses to impress!

checking out all the shops and food options before boarding, just straight wandering off without saying anything. comes back 20 min later with a keychain that says "I LEFT MY ❤️ AT ______ INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT" because he thinks its funny as fuck

insists he take the window seat but keeps the curtain closed the entire flight because the sun is casting a glare on his handheld

--

THANK UUUU for your request, I hope this is sufficient! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

[fledgedragonfox]

A Wizard's Will

"you know you are only supposed to have 1 apprentice maybe 2 not 15." said the wizard council member "well until people stop leaving surprisingly powerful orphans at my doorstep I'll be taking care of my 17 apprentices." The council member snapped their wand "WHERE DID YOU GET 3 MORE!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bartriol the Brown gave a very deep sigh as the council erupted around him. The Blue who had spoken was nearly frothing at the mouth as he tried to process the situation. There were no strict rules against having so many apprentices, of course. But the older members of the council were sticklers for tradition. But really, was it Bartriol’s fault that so many magically inclined children were left abandoned in his woods? No. No it wasn’t, and he’d thank you very much for not insinuating such a thing. 

“Despite Nector’s anger, he makes a valid point Bartriol.” Navester the Green chimed in. Ever calm, ever courteous. He sat smiling over his half moon glasses as he looked Bartriol over. “We as wizards have a duty to teach the next generation of wizard kind, but surely having seventeen pupils must be taxing.” He said, ever poised and soothing. All his words got him was a flat look and several groans from the blues. 

“Well, if you don’t want me to raise such bright talents by myself, find out who keeps abandoning them.” Bartriol responded as he pushed back his chair. “Meanwhile, little Wecco requested I pick up some of that nice elven taffy on my way. And Markle has that nasty cough. Really I must be off” Several members of the council tried to stop him, but Bartiol was out the door and on the back of his pet griffon before they could blink.

True to his word, Bartriol stopped by the lovely little candy shop in elven towne and bought enough taffy to feed his little army. Then he popped into the hedge witch’s for a tonic for Markle. A quick flight had him back in his clearing. A cozy cottage was tucked into the roots of a massive tree. Windows dotted the trunk, all the way up and above the treeline. His garden was green and bright even as the chills of fall were beginning to nip about. 

Laughter filled the clearing as his apprentices practiced. Some of his older ones were practicing with their newly carved staves. Nico and Scarlet were having a mock battle while Ozmund fiddled with the gemstone on the tip of his staff.  Hecubah was spending her time grooming the countless cats that had emerged from the wood to meet her. She would certainly be a brown when she was old enough for a robe. Wickle was picking blackberries for some strange concoction they were planning. 

“Master Bartriol, Master Bartriol!” A voice called out, getting closer all the time. He turned to see Baker jogging up to him. Finally reaching eighteen, Baker had only recently been given a robe. Bartriol had practically glowed as his eldest had been deemed worthy of a grey robe. “What did the council need you for?” The boy asked. Translation: “Why did the council feel the need to summon a brown rather than just come for a visit?”. Bartriol was inclined to agree. After all, Wickle and Walker had just perfected a rather scrumptious cream tart that most of the white wizards simply adored. 

“Oh, it was nothing. The blues are getting jealous I think.” Bartriol said, a twinkle in his eye. The young man was a bit confused, but his mature facade melted just as soon as the bag of taffy hit his chest. His eyes lit up like he was a child again. Bartriol didn’t linger, instead walking up the path to his home. Tossing bags of taffy left and right to be caught or fumbled by his gaggle of trouble makers. 

The inside of his cottage was just as chaotic. Mice and hedgehogs were ferrying items and ingredients from the pantry and into the kitchen. In all corners his children shrieked, played, and practiced. Wecco popped into existence with a loud crack. Her eyes were wide as dinner plates. Bartriol laughed, and complimented her on her sudden apparition, before dropping a bag of taffy in her waiting hands. She hugged him round the waist and with another loud crack was gone. 

Taffy was handed off to Bailey, Shiphand, Byrd, Terrycloth, Winona, and Lumps as he passed them by. Some of his children' s names were less than fortunate, but until they decided to change them there was nothing to be done. His children gave choruses of thanks as he smiled and commented on their studies. He ascended the stairs and made his way to the sick room, where little Markle and Westron were resting. 

“Hullo master Bartriol.” Markle said, coughing into his hand. Squella, the second eldest, and only one of his apprentices who was not of human birth, hopped onto the desk and chirped a hello. She often volunteered her time watching over her sick siblings. Bartriol was certain she would end up in a green robe before the year was out. The little borrower squeaked in pure joy at the huge bag of taffy that Bartriol sat beside her. Westron lay in bed, struggling to keep a human form. The poor lad had flesh magic, and Bartiol was still searching for a way to help him control it. 

“And how are we all doing today?” Bartriol asked, pulling out the cough syrup he’d picked up and coaxing Markle to drink some of the bitter sweet concoction. As the trio began to open up about their day. The wizard rubbed soothing circles in Westron's aching back as they talked and enjoyed their taffy. Yes the blues could kick up a fuss and complain, but really where else would the children go? It seemed to Bartriol that the blue wizards were simply jealous they hadn’t produced a single non-blue wizard in years.

While a lowly brown had produced a grey, and was well on the way to making a great splash with the rest of his apprentices. Really though, even if they hadn’t a single lick of talent for wizardry, he would still bring them in from the cold all the same. Wickle and Walker would surely be hedge witches one day with how they cooked and baked. As the pair of sicklings tired themselves out, Bartriol excused himself from Squella’s company to take a walk through the woods. It had been a good few months since Markle and Westron had come to him. It would probably be smart to check the edges of the wood just in case another little one had been left behind. 

After all, if people were going to leave surprisingly powerful orphans all alone in his woods, he might as well take care of them. Blues be damned. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For anyone wondering, I do have some more ideas on how these wizards work, but for that I'll need to do a few more prompts. lol. Let me know what you think!!!

Also, figured I might as well share this again. Losing a bit of heart but well, here it is.

All of the details for the gofundme can be found on the gofundme page, I promise.

Pareon: Artemis Dragonfox Gofundme: https://gofund.me/d271f0c4

"you know you are only supposed to have 1 apprentice maybe 2 not 15." said the wizard council member "well until people stop leaving surprisingly powerful orphans at my doorstep I'll be taking care of my 17 apprentices." The council member snapped their wand "WHERE DID YOU GET 3 MORE!"

[gamblersdoll]

perv kirishima, fluff to semi smut, massaging with oil :3

“cmon, baby,” kirishima was on you like a hound, behind and hands on your waist.. mouth on your neck. “yer so tense and mean to big ole’ me.”

“because you act like a goddamn mutt.” you were almost like katsuki, cold and hard when it came to certain things. “get off—“ you grit your teeth, but he chuckles in your ear. “what do you have planned?”

“i can feel all the knots in your back, baby.” he acts surprised, but how can he.. look at you. “do you not massage yourself or relax?” he asks, kneading his knuckles into your shoulder— eliciting a groan from you. “oh yeah, you dont ever relax..”

“im fine, riri.” you mumble.

he shakes his head, pushing you towards the bed. “uh uh, let me make you feel good, kay?” he asks, and he can see the disapproval in your eyes. “pleeassssee?” you sigh and nod, pulling your arms up and feeling your clothes be stolen from you.

“dont get any funny ideas, dog.” you roll your eyes, laying onto your stomach.

he snickers, moving first to your shoulders and digging into the dips, hearing your moans when he hits a spot good. hes slow with it, moving to your shoulder blades and he coos. “fuck, you carry stress here.” he giggles at your grunt, the knot of it going away as he moves to the line of your back to dig and slide his thumbs into your back— hearing several pops and cracks. “you gotta stop slouching, babygirl.” he reminds, watching your back relax. “thats why you get so much problems.”

“uh huh..” you moan, ignoring his tantrum of his.

he finally got to your lower back and the start of your ass, pressing his thumbs down and hearing cracks. “carry alot of stress back here, too.” he kisses the round of your ass, feeling the goosebumps raise against your skin. did he forget to tell you about the massage oil that was warming up and a muscle relaxer? you started to relax, the hardness of your heart going soft.

“kiri..” you mumble, feeling his hands massage your rear in circles.

“hm?” he grunts, squeezing the flesh.

“feels good..”

“yeah? want me to keep going?” he asks, moving to the back of your thighs. he sees your nod, him going back up and pressing kisses along your ass. “so pretty when yer bein’ good.” he jiggles and grips it, spreading you open just a bit to press a kiss to your slit.

“hey.. easy..” you mumble, pressing your hand against his head.

“seems like your body knows what it wants.” he kissed your palm, staring at you over your ass. he winks with his left eye, his tongue poking out for a moment to alert you. “i wont do anything you dont want..” he grins, licking from your slit to your neck and kisses you.

he tastes like peaches.

“did— did you just kiss me with oil lips?” you groan, too relaxed and almost tired.

“its edible.” he argues back, sitting on your legs to work into your shoulders. “now hush it so i can be a man and make his woman feel good.”

[revelboo]

your revel highness, if its not too much trouble could you spare some knockout or drift crumbs? only if you're up for it

Sure!

My Favorite Accident Pt 7

Knockout x Reader

• “You can’t just keep sneaking out. It’s being noticed,” Breakdown growls and Knockout huffs at his friend, sterilizing and putting his tools away. Because this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. Knows Breakdown worries about him and the repercussions of him sneaking out just to drag race, but really? Lord Megatron is too busy amusing himself with tormenting that little human they snatched thinking it was important to the Autobots only to realize it wasn’t. Anything else he doesn’t have time for.

• “Aren’t I always careful?” He laughs, turning and tipping his head back as Breakdown frowns at down at him. “It’s just a little fun. You remember what that is?” Pointedly going around his bigger friend, he thinks about that cesspool he’d left you in. Plating crawling at the thought of ever returning there. Embarrassed for you that you work there and wondering how angry you’d be if he burns it down while you’re not there so you have to find a new job. Though, given your current one and that pit-forsaken hovel you live in, you’ll somehow find something worse just to spite him.

• “You’re just spending a lot of time with those little flesh bags,” Breakdown mutters and he vents guiltily. That’s what this is about. That he’s been out racing and lately, practicing alone with you instead of hanging out with Breakdown. Reach up to affectionately cuff the bigger mech on the chassis, he knows he needs to spend some time with Breakdown. But he also needs to check on you, make sure you got home okay. It’s not like he cares, but who is he going to race if you get yourself killed? That in mind, he heads out, aware of Breakdown frowning after him. Unhappy.

• Hoofing it back to the apartment since your ride ditched you, the only good thing is it’s dark now and you’re not baking in the sun at least. But you’re going to kick the hell out of Knockout’s stupid, shiny paint when you see him again. Who just leaves someone stranded? High maintenance alien jerks, apparently. Hair slicked to your forehead and neck with sweat, you see the headlights coming up behind you and move further off the road just as a car streaks by only to immediately slam on the brakes. Speak of the devil.

• On the side the road, he almost doesn’t recognize you, driving past before he catches you in his mirrors. Throwing himself in reverse with a snarl, he backs up and shifts on his shocks. “Why are you walking?” Primus, he knows you’re broke, but still. And you glare at him. Like this is his fault. Annoyed when you just keep walking, he follows.

• “I’m walking, because my ride ditched me.” And because you didn’t have anyone to call, but you’re not about to admit that. Not to him. “Go away before I key you.” It’s an empty threat and you both know it. Even if he seems to, well, not like you, but tolerate your existence, you’re pretty sure he’d stomp you if you tried. And he pops open a door, waving it in invitation. “Really? Cause I’m sweaty.” Door closing sharply, he just keeps passively rolling alongside you.

• What is he doing? Keeping his headlights out, Breakdown trails behind at a safe distance. Close enough to not lose Knockout, but too far away to hear whatever’s being said. But what he can tell? Knockout is talking to a little human walking by the side of the road. Sees his friend open a door for you then close it without you getting in as you throw up a hand at him. Who are you? And why is Knockout bothering with you?

Previous

[rcmclachlan]

okay, so if you’re not writing the aquarium scene in the 118/217 scheming fix-it (god i love this) can you at least share what mishap and or shenanigan gets them banned from the aquarium?? (since you mentioned it in the tags i assume you picked one!)

The aquarium is Christopher's idea, because getting Buck and Tommy back together is the one thing he and Eddie can talk about without it devolving into shouting or week-long silences that make Eddie want to put his fist through his living room wall.

So if plotting to interfere in the open bear trap that is his idiot friends' breakup gets him an hour of uninterrupted screen time with Chris three times a week? He'll meddle in a way that would make even his abuela say, "cariño, that's a little much." He'll change his legal middle name to el metiche.

"Buck used to take me to see the otters when I was younger; they're his favorite. But the exhibit has been closed for a year because they've been redoing it," Chris says, then texts him a link to the aquarium website. "The big reopening is next week. If someone asked Buck to take Jee-Yun, he wouldn't be suspicious."

"Chris, you're a genius," Eddie says, a little awed. His entire body aches to reach through the laptop screen and across state lines to pull his kid into a hug, but all he can do is sit on his hands and hope his face shows all the love he feels.

A small, but genuine grin unfurls on Chris's face. "That's not news, dad."

Eddie decides to take the aquarium idea to what Chimney keeps calling the weekly 118-217 Shadow Summit to see if the rest of the group thinks it holds water—no pun intended—and is extremely offended when Dana gives him a slow blink and says, "That's actually not bad. Who came up with it?"

"Is it that hard to believe it was my idea?"

"Very."

Dana presses the rim of her wine glass to the sly, crimson curve of her mouth. With her victory rolls, winged eyeliner, and tattoos, she looks like the winner of a car show pinup contest. She also looks like an evil queen out of an old school Disney movie. At least five people in their general vicinity look like they'd thank her if she force-fed them a poisoned apple or turned into a giant dragon.

Eddie reaches into the bowl of popcorn by his elbow and throws a handful of it at her. She just takes a sip of her wine and serenely lets the kernels bounce off her.

"Knock it off before I put you both in a time out." Lucy drains the dregs of her beer and says to Chimney, "Having Buckley take your kid is the perfect excuse—she's, what, two? Three?"

"Five," Chim says with the heartache of a man whose baby is almost old enough to rent a car. "As long as we don't tell my wife that Jee's playing the part of the cutest MacGuffin ever in this little plot, we should be good. But how do we get Tommy there?"

"Short of planting a bomb in the penguin tank, I can't think of a reason Mr. Nature Boy himself would ever voluntarily go." Hen roots around in the popcorn bowl for the kernels with the most butter. "Actually, he might be thrilled if we did that. I don't think he likes birds very much."

Dana lifts a brow. "I smell a story."

"Does it smell like KFC?" Chim pops a pretzel in his mouth and chews loudly, grinning. "Once we've adjourned the cabal for the evening, remind me to tell you about Maurice."

Eddie doesn't know Nico very well—he can't get a read on the guy to save his life—but the smug smirk he's sporting looks entirely out of place. Nico takes the last mozzarella stick off the platter they'd ordered to share and puts it between his teeth like a cigar. He looks like the world's lamest oil baron.

Eddie looks at Dana in askance. Wordlessly, she plucks a piece of popcorn out of her hair and throws it at him. It nails him right between the eyes.

"Let me handle Kinard," Nico says. "I'll get him there, no problem."

To his credit, Nico does get Tommy to the aquarium the day of the sea otter exhibit grand reopening. And thanks to Chimney planting Chris's idea in Buck's head at the start of their next shift, Buck does take Jee-Yun.

Unfortunately, their paths never cross, because while the penguin habitat doesn't explode, the sea jelly gallery does, completely flooding the first floor. When the aquarium is forced to evacuate everyone, Buck and Jee-Yun end up at the Chili's down the street, while Tommy ends up riding in an ambulance with an old woman who gets stung by a box jellyfish.

"I don't understand how this happened!" Lucy shouts, keeping her fingers on the ankle pulse of a man in the middle of an allergic reaction to a lilliputian jelly sting as Hen and Chim pump him full of epinephrine and then start administering compressions.

Eddie would help, but he's carrying three kids—two in his arms, one on his back—through shin-deep water to safety while attempting to dodge all the bluebottles floating on the surface. Dana glides past him to get the next group of kids waiting to be rescued, not a hair out of place. She looks like a fucking mermaid. He's gonna trip her the next time they pass each other.

Annoyed, Lucy casts around and then asks, "Has anyone seen Nico?"

Just in time for the man himself to sedately walk through the pandemonium, two bewildered penguins tucked under his arms like purses. He smiles brightly. "Hey, did Kinard pass through here, by any chance? Phase two of my plan is ready to go."

Eddie stares at him. "What was phase one?"

He never does find out what exactly phase one entailed, but it's enough to get them permanently banned from the aquarium for life.

"If you ask me, the punishment so does not fit the crime," Nico says, digging an elbow into Eddie's side as he jostles for room in the back of Athena's squad car.

Eddie says nothing. He's too busy mentally composing the short-answer portion of his application for the El Paso Fire Department, although, in the end, it doesn't matter. He completely forgets everything he plans on writing when Athena slides in, glances in the rearview mirror, and shouts, "Those better not be penguins in my back seat, Edmundo Diaz!"

He and Chris spend two hours talking about it during their next call, so Eddie calls it a win.

[shadysubject06]

Awwwe gosh Rosa, thank you!!! Happy New Year!!! I'm feeling a bit sappy so here goes. @grimdarkpumpkin @saltyseagil @ratjamtime @sonic-rider @revalentinee MY BESTIES!!! MY FRIENDS!!!! You keep me sane, you make me feel loved, and I can't thank you enough for being with me as long as you have. Especially with how often I tend to go radio silent. You're all so incredibly talented and cool, and you make me enjoy life, and being myself, more than I ever have.

@wacky-nameless-inventor-24 @shychick-52 I gotta shout out you guys specially! I know we don't interact as much as we did in the past, but I do lurk when I can and seeing you pop up on my dash makes me smile!!! Thank you for reaching out all that time ago, especially when I was feeling really insecure about my work at the time. You gave me the confidence to not only keep working on the longest fic I ever wrote, but to also not be afraid to make it as crazy and self-indulgent as I wanted skldnflksndflsnd. It really meant a lot at the time, just in case all the keysmashing I did back then didn't convey it well enough.

The rest of you I haven't known as long, but I've very much appreciated all of the nice comments and messages, getting to meet you, and especially the fact that going into the new year I have more people around to inflict emotional damage on with my art. Jokingly. >: )

@0-rosa-draws-0 (UNO REVERSE!!!) @alynwrench @muzzlemouths @zenkaiankoku @sulfadimethoxine @maycelium @divinitea-cafe @crees-a @wrapplepie @cozycitrus @shibiichi @nebula-remnants And one last thing. A massive thank you to @supershadicx250 you dubbing my comics was a really, really big thing for me and I still can't quite believe it actually happened. Thank you so so much for doing that.

I hope all of you have a great New Years, and I'll see you in 2025!!!

GOOOOOODMORNING SHEEPLE

It's the last day of 2024!!!!

So I gotta ask, who made your 2024 better? :]

For me it's all these weirdos /aff💕

@moldy-beans @nebula-remnants @ghostermctoaster @beetle-fettle @maxxzophone @111daebud @loony2star @0-rosa-draws-0 @hexcii @linafoxoficial @sunny-inajar @queencj09 @stxrlight09 @birdyjellyfish @bigsillyyyy @biggiesnails

SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE I'll probably add to it later 💥😭

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 27. through it all — ✦ (wc: 0.8k)

notes: this took longer than expected ^^ hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

To Yae Miko's credit, she cut straight to the chase. 

Not that Scaramouche would give her much credit in general, given that she had always treated him with such indifference over the years before he finally moved out. But he'd take his small blessings whenever he could.

It was a cut-and-dry deal: Yae Miko would interview Scaramouche regarding the recent scandal between his partner and one of the band members of Windborne. He would get the chance to clear the air with the help of one of the most influential news outlets in all of Inazuma, while Yae Miko would get an exclusive story people could only dream about.

It should have been over the moment they ended the interview. But here they are, making casual conversation. At least as casual as it gets between a son and his estranged mother-in-law.

Scaramouche has seen these tactics before. Whenever Yae Miko wanted information, she’d make casual conversation with the interviewee to get them to open up. And that’s when she strikes.

Ironically enough, it was also Yae Miko who taught him how to avoid this. She was the one who taught him when to give information and when to hold back; how to satiate people’s curiosity enough so they leave you alone. Basic media training — training he and Kaori knew by heart.

Yae Miko tilts her chin downwards, the way she does whenever she gets curious. “You’ve been back in Inazuma for a little over a year now. Is it nice living with them? I’m assuming so since no one’s spotted you packing your bags just yet.”

“I still live with them. But that’s none of your business.”

“Oh come now, you saw me turn off the recorder. Everything we’re saying right now is off the record.”

Against his better judgment, he yields, “It’s... nice. On the days when they actually wake up early, they help me cook. It’s become a routine of sorts.”

He knew that was exactly what she was looking for when he saw the hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

It’s a slippery slope, trusting a journalist. Some will risk their lives for the truth while others will stab you in the back while shaking your hand. But if it’s Yae Miko, he has no doubt she’ll only publish the truth, if only a little embellished. She has to sell stories, after all.

“You’re never usually this civil with me,” Scaramouche doesn’t attempt to mask his suspicion. “What do you hope to gain with a conversation that’s off the record?”

Yae Miko offered a cryptic smile, her eyes revealing a flicker of sincerity. “Am I not allowed to be curious? People are actively looking for you just for the chance at an interview and you reached out to me in the hopes of clearing the air about your relationship.”

He’d be loathe to admit that she was one of the few people he trusted to handle the story properly. But he still had to ask, “And now you’re just this so-called off-the-record conversation as some sort of blackmail?”

She sighs, “I’m getting an exclusive interview with the author who’s dating an Inazuman pop star. Would you blame me for asking a few questions? Besides, you’ll see none of this conversation mentioned in any articles.”

“How do I know you’re not just bullshitting me...”

“I can understand your apprehension, but words hold power, Scaramouche. Everyone in the industry knows this. And so do you.”

Scaramouche has never really seen eye-to-eye with Yae Miko on a multitude of things, but one of the few things they can agree on is that people shouldn’t just blindly believe what people say just because they have a large following. The Narukami Press has always strived to publish articles that are reflective of the truth. 

But bias is inevitable, whether you work in journalism or public relations.

“A large majority of people are always going to want to chase the latest drama without caring if it’s true or not,” she starts. “You’ll find no such motivation in me to keep fanning the flames. I want them to die down as much as you do.”

“People like us have a responsibility to be careful with what we say and how we say it,” she continues. “The drama with Zenith was blown out of proportion, that much is for sure. People were hungry to see their downfall given that they were on top for so long but they were just as eager to drag you down with them.”

“Setting the record straight by yourself will be nearly impossible,” she states matter-of-factly. “But your friends have been preparing their statements to defend your partner, yes?”

He isn’t even surprised that she knows about this, especially a PR move this big. Working with his friends will be the best way to get the rumors to die down to a manageable level.

“Your word and Xiao’s will be what people hang onto the most. Make it count.”

“And fight for them, Scaramouche. They need you now more than ever. If you decide to ignore all my advice, then that’s fine by me. But never stop fighting for them.”

“Like hell I’d ever stop. No matter what happens, I’ll be with my partner through it all.”

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

author's notes:

i lied, this was my favorite chapter to write by far

happy new year everyone!! updates will probably slow down from here but i hope you enjoyed the chapter ^^

taglist — currently CLOSED:

@aestherin @your-kuya-pogi @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @vxnuslogy @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @nymphxie @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @one-and-only-tay @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @miaakai @duckyyyx @cinnaniyoom @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @feiherp @venturinea @nnasv @retiredmommylover @onmywaytoteyvat @tiredslepz @saccharine-sucks

[1425fivefive]

for the kink prompts... (all of them have been devastatingly hot so far and i am Foaming at the mouth hnggg) something with sounding if you can please?? i'm so obsessed w it rn

sounding for landoscar!! you have no idea how long i had to spend on the sounding subreddit to write this (for the kink prompt asks)

“Is that alright?” Lando asks.

Oscar doesn’t say anything, just watches open-mouthed as Lando slides the slim metal rod into the tip of Oscar’s dick. The rod’s tiny, only three millimeters, the smallest size the shop had, but Oscar gasps when the rod slips deeper, dick throbbing, flushed and angry.

“Osc, you’re good, yeah?” Lando repeats. Oscar can hear the strain in his voice.

“Yeah,” Oscar whispers. He’s trembling from the effort of holding still, of letting Lando set the pace. Oscar wants to beg already, wants to beg for Lando to push it deeper, harder, faster. To fuck his—to fuck his cock.

Jesus, it feels fucking insane when he thinks about it like that. But that’s what’s happening. Lando’s fucking Oscar’s cock, filling him, stuffing him full, so fucking full he feels like he can’t take it. The first person to have him like this. Just like Lando was the first person to have his mouth, his arse. Lando’s done it all, now. Fucked Oscar every single way a person can be fucked.

Oscar lets out a breathless whimper at the thought, fingers tightening on the sheets, thighs sliding apart.

“Please,” Oscar gasps. “Fuck me—I—fuck my cock, please.”

Lando’s mouth drops open, face flushing, but he slips the rod a little deeper.

“Jesus, Osc,” Lando breathes, eyes fixed on Oscar’s swollen cock. “The way you take it.”

Oscar’s hips hitch up involuntarily and the rod slips even deeper. There’s still a quarter of it left and Oscar doesn’t think he can take it, it won’t fit, he’s too full, he’ll burst—

“That’s it,” Lando murmurs. “That’s it, baby, good boy.”

Oscar moans and forces himself to stay still, trembling, shaking, whole body a mess of sensations. The crazed feeling of watching his body take something it shouldn’t. Of watching Lando make him take it.

Lando lets go of the sound and it stays still for a moment, half-in and half-out of Oscar’s cock. And then it just fucking slides, all the way in, his cock swallowing the sound to the hilt, the base resting right flush with the bright red tip of Oscar’s cock. Oscar feels—he’s so fucking—

“Full,” Oscar whimpers, staring at the sight of his cock stuffed and plugged, full to the brim.

Lando traces a finger over the underside of Oscar’s cock, right over where the sound is pressing through Oscar’s skin and it feels like coming but not, oversensitive and insane and awful, like coming without release, like Oscar’s a balloon that won’t pop.

Oscar can hear himself crying out, begging, babbling about how it’s too much, he’s too full, he can’t, Lando, please, he can’t.

“Yeah,” Lando breathes, pupils blown wide as he keeps dragging his finger over Oscar’s dick, watching as Oscar’s dick twitches and throbs and swells, pulsing desperately with nothing spilling out.

“I can’t,” Oscar sobs. “Lando, please, I can’t—”

“Shh,” Lando murmurs. “You’re okay, Osc, you’re okay.”

Oscar shakes his head, frantic, hips fucking up, cock bobbing, Lando’s finger still stroking over Oscar’s dick, tracing the long line of the sound.

“Just a little longer,” Lando says, voice low, raspy. “Just keep it in for me, yeah? Love seeing you all full like this.”

“Lando,” Oscar moans, squirming against the sheets. He’s desperate to come, desperate to stay fucked full, desperate to have Lando keep touching him like this, gentle and awful.

Lando stops stroking Oscar’s dick and pinches the base of the sound between his fingers.

Oscar thinks Lando might finally pull it out and Oscar sobs, imagining the rush of come, the relief. But Lando starts fucking the sound in and out of Oscar’s cock, moaning at the sight of Oscar’s cock swallowing it hungrily every time Lando pushes down.

“Oh,” Oscar gasps, staring at his cock with wide eyes, stunned at the sight of how much he can take, how much his body will take for Lando. “Oh, Lando, oh—”

“Look at you,” Lando murmurs, and he tips forward to mouth at the flushed head of Oscar’s dick, right where the base of the sound meets his skin.

It’s too much, too good, too terrible, the wet, sucking drag of Lando’s mouth. Oscar’s cock feels feverish against Lando’s tongue, hot and swollen. Oscar thinks about shoving Lando’s mouth away, begging him to stop.

Instead, Oscar says, “Fingers—can you—in my—”

And Lando doesn’t have to ask what Oscar means, just moans against Oscar’s cock and slips two fingers inside Oscar, smooth and easy.

Oscar feels full, so full, full of Lando, fuller than anything.

Lando pulls off Oscar's cock to say, “Suck your fingers,” and Oscar does, sobs as he slides his fingers into his mouth, hollows his cheeks and sucks.

He’s completely full. Every single bit of him plugged and stuffed.

“Fuck,” Lando moans, eyes dragging over Oscar. “Jesus, Osc.”

Oscar whimpers, slick sounds as he swallows around his fingers, as Lando pushes his fingers deeper inside Oscar.

“Wish I could keep you like this forever,” Lando groans. “So fucking full for me, yeah?”

Oscar nods, frantic, sucking his fingers, fucking back against Lando’s hand, cock thick and swollen, bouncing with the plug. He doesn’t want to ever be empty again, wants to be just like this, always. Full, so fucking full. For Lando.

[merakijinx]

Jinx as Your Girlfriend (Part 1)

Author’s Note:

Hi! It’s merakijinx here, at first this was supposed to be a list of headcanons but then it kinda developed into a short story of how Jinx and reader’s relationship developed. I don’t want this fandom (especially the Jinx lovers part) to die haha so..

I also don’t know how to check for the word count I apologize, but this isn’t super long. This is the first time I’m writing something on here, and this also isn’t a serious AO3 story type shit, just a fun thought dump?

Hope you enjoy!

Before Dating ｡𖦹°‧

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ When Jinx first saw you, she didn’t think much of you. At most, she thought you were physically attractive— “easy on the eyes”.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Until you began being popping up in her life more, persistent to be around her. It was annoying & uncomfortable at first, because she wasn’t used to people wanting to be around her.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ It didn’t take long for her to warm up to you though. She tested you with pranks, pinned harmless glitter bombs on your back, set up booby traps just to see your reaction, to gauge if you can really keep up with her.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Your energy somewhat intimidated her. The way you wouldn’t look at her in fear when she came, or how you weren’t just counting the seconds until she finally left you alone. You liked being around her, and it was all new to her.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ She was even more confused when you started showing your true colors. Whether you become more kind and gentle, or more playful, or more quiet.. It intrigued her how full of life you were, and that also scared her.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ When she finally accepted that you would just stick with her no matter what, she let her guard down around you as well.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ You became her new best friend, the one person that would listen to her ramble on and on about her inventions.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ She would show off her weapons to you, and explain how she created them.

“And this here is my trusty Pow-Pow! She’s seen all sorts of things, real fighter, this one. It’s like she’s got a mind of her own..”

“I blew up the council with this, you know?” She says as she lifts up her rocket launcher.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Your presence certainly brightened up her life, but she couldn’t help feeling like she didn’t deserve you.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ You were just too precious for a cruel world such as this. You didn’t deserve to go through any struggle or pain, and that’s all she would bring you. She’s a Jinx after all, right?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Even though her mind is telling her to push you away, a selfish desire inside her wants you by her side. She scolds herself for being so selfish, keeping such a good thing like you with a bad person like her.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ As time passed, you two only grew closer. When she brainstorms about her new inventions, she would also take into consideration your ideas. No matter how unrealistic they may be, she will find a way to incorporate them into her works.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ She found herself creating trinkets and weapons dedicated or inspired by you.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ At the corner of her desk laid a pile of papers with messy doodles of you two together on all sorts of adventures. Most of them were scratch papers to draw out her ideas for her weapons, but suddenly you were there on the paper holding the gun she was drawing.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ One or two Polaroid photos of you two would be pinned to the frame of her shattered mirror.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ It was one night that you decided to stay over at her place, that she realized she had feelings for you.

The world seemed to brighten up along with the sound of your laughter

How beautiful you looked when you were against the warm light.

You two were sitting together on the couch, talking and laughing, until you two stopped to catch your breaths and just soak in the moment. Jinx’s gaze flickered to your lips for a moment, observing the gentle outline of your bottom lip, and your cupid’s bow— then back up to your eyes.

‘What the hell are you doing, Jinx?’

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ You crashed on her couch while she slept on the other side of the hideout, in her own bed. She was watching you sleep peacefully on the other side, painfully unaware of how much pain Jinx has caused so many people. And there you were, sleeping safe and sound in the very home of one of the most wanted criminals

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Jinx reflected on all her memories with you. That time when you would listen to her rants, when you would laugh at her jokes or nonsensical muttering, when you wouldn’t run when she had an episode. She wanted to keep you safe, and most of all, she wanted to keep this thing going. You are possibly the best thing that’s happened to her in… a long time, after Silco died, after everything went to shit. She didn’t want to ruin this. She’s got something to live for now.

That’s when she realized, on that very night, in that dimly lit, silent hideout, that maybe… she developed something for you.

｡𖦹°‧

I might make this into an actual story, maybe.

[naomijoestar]

Hi, can I request gn!reader confessing to each member of the Bucci gang(plus Trish!!) that they are in love with them? There's no tact or romance, maybe it's over breakfast or some random mundane situation and reader goes "You know, I am actually in love with you", proceeds to keep doing what they were doing and refuses to elaborate unless cornered 😭 ty!! The genre can be crack taken seriously/romantic comedy??

Masterlist here <3

Hello I love this I love you this is such an amazing idea. I hope you enjoy! 💕

Bucci gang react to you suddenly confessing

Bruno Bucciarati

It’s mid-breakfast, and Bruno is calmly buttering his toast when you casually drop, “By the way, I’m in love with you.” You return to sipping your coffee, not even looking up. He freezes for a moment, toast hovering in midair, before setting the knife down neatly

“I see,” he says, his voice steady but his cheeks slightly pink. “Would you care to elaborate?”

You wave him off. “Nah, just thought you should know.”

The rest of breakfast is quiet until he leans forward, a warm, playful smile on his face. “I think we’ll need to revisit this conversation later. You can’t just say something like that and not let me respond properly.”

Narancia Ghirga

You’re both playing video games, and Narancia’s in the middle of yelling at the screen when you suddenly say, “I’m in love with you, by the way.”

His character immediately dies, and he turns to you, wide-eyed. “WHAT?!”

“Yeah,” you say, nonchalant, munching on some chips. “Pass me the controller?”

He scrambles to pause the game, absolutely not ready to let this slide. “Hold on! What do you mean you’re in love with me?! Like, for real?!”

“Yup,” you reply, popping the ‘p.’ You refuse to elaborate further, leaving him flustered and pacing around the room, muttering about how he “needs a minute to process.”

Guido Mista

You’re cleaning up the kitchen after lunch when you casually drop, “Mista, I’m in love with you.”

Mista, who is polishing one of his pistols, blinks at you. “What?”

You shrug. “Just thought you should know.”

He stares at you for a solid ten seconds before grinning. “Man, you’re something else, you know that? You’re not even gonna explain?”

“Nope.”

He leans back in his chair, shaking his head with a laugh. “Alright, but don’t blame me when I start flirting with you nonstop now.”

Fugo Pannacotta

The two of you are studying some documents when you casually say, “By the way, Fugo, I’m in love with you.”

Fugo doesn’t look up immediately, but his pen stops moving. “…Excuse me?”

You shrug, flipping a page. “You heard me.”

He sets the pen down, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can’t just say something like that and act like it’s nothing.”

“Why not?” you ask, genuinely curious

He sighs, visibly flustered but trying to keep his composure. “Because it’s not nothing,” he mutters under his breath, cheeks bright red

Giorno Giovanna

You’re watering plants with Giorno when you say, “Hey, Giorno, I’m in love with you.”

He pauses, looking up from the flower he’s tending. “Is that so?”

“Yup,” you say, moving on to the next pot

He tilts his head, a small smile gracing his lips. “And you’re just going to leave it at that?”

“Pretty much,” you reply

He chuckles softly, standing and brushing dirt off his hands. “Then I suppose I’ll have to find a way to make you elaborate, won’t I?” There’s a glint of determination in his eyes, and you know he’s not letting this go

Leone Abbacchio

You’re sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine, when you say, “Hey, Abbacchio, I’m in love with you.”

He doesn’t even look up from his cup of wine. “Sure, and I’m the Queen of England.”

“I’m serious,” you reply, still focused on your magazine

He finally glances at you, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got a funny way of confessing.”

“Thanks,” you say, turning a page

He sighs, setting his glass down. “You really don’t care to explain yourself, do you?”

“Nope.”

He mutters something under his breath, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile on his lips

Trish Una

You’re trying on sunglasses in front of a mirror when you casually say, “Hey, Trish, I’m in love with you.”

She stops mid-text, lowering her phone. “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with you,” you repeat, adjusting the frames on your nose

Trish blinks, clearly caught off guard, before regaining her composure. “And you just… drop that like it’s no big deal?”

“Pretty much,” you say, inspecting another pair

She narrows her eyes at you, standing up to block your reflection in the mirror. “Oh, no. You’re not getting away with that. We’re talking about this now.”

I hope you enjoy this!! Also happy new year everyone ❤️ I wish an amazing 2025 for all of you

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!