#it’s like my brain is say k to a long text right now

[paullovescomics]

I also learned phonics very early, and later used context clues to figure out the meaning of unfamiliar words. Also, since I had learned phonics, I often* knew how the unfamiliar word was supposed to sound, I just didn't know the definition. So when I was like eight or ten reading Cracked magazine and there was a gag about a cult leader claiming to be the messiah, I could ask my mom, "What's a messy-ah?" (I'd heard that word in speech, but never read it. We were Baptist, so we tended to just say and write "Jesus".) Then she told me it's pronounced muh-SI-ah, which I recognized, and i was banned from reading Cracked. Also I started using the dictionary.

That's a very different thing from just being given a page of text with a picture attached and being expected to figure out the whole damn thing, even the most basic sounds. The fact that this blatantly wrong approach gained traction among very educated people for so long is a warning to all of us not to assume we're too smart to get tricked.

There used to be an email that went around, with a block of text with several of the words misspelled in minor ways. After that block, it would say something like "Did you notice the misspellings? NO you didn't! Because your brain doesn't read all the letters, it just recognizes patterns and context, something about the first and last letter in the word, etc. etc." It was one of those Wow, Man, Everything You Thought You Knew Is Wrong things. That had to have come from this whole reading junk, right? And smart people passed it around unquestioned. Of course now and then a smart alleck would point out that all the misspelled words were common, very familiar vocabulary, and they were misspelled in pretty common ways that we've all seen and committed a thousand times, so of course you read past them no problem. But if you took a paragraph with several unusual words and you really fucked with the spelling (leaving the first and last letters the same), it looked like nonsense. So yeah, it's good that we recognize how bad that theory is now, but people liked it for smart-seeming reasons, and it's not helpful to pretend that they were all big dummies.

*(I say often because you know, sometimes a C sounds like an S and sometimes it sounds like a K, etc. but even then, i knew those options because of phonics.)

"America's functional literacy is in the toilet largely due to the now-discredited Whole Language model that many schools are still using, and our school system as a whole often traumatizes children and teaches them to avoid learning, leading to an uneducated and illiterate population" - true, a problem for sure, something we can and should fix

"America's functional literacy is in the toilet because THE GOVERNMENT WANTS YOU TO BE ILLITERATE SO THEY CAN OPPRESS YOU AND TEACHERS ARE INTENTIONALLY TRAUMATIZING CHILDREN TO ACCOMPLISH THIS GOAL" - you sound like the people who insist doctors are hiding the cure for cancer so they can make money off treating you, you're doing a massive disservice to people to genuinely want to help children and were misled by a corporation looking to make money, you're doing an even bigger disservice to the people who learned they were wrong and are now course-correcting, which the government is allowing them to do because there is not actually a massive conspiracy to keep children illiterate, and the reason people aren't reading your article about it isn't because they can't read, it's because your prose is obnoxious and pretentious

[searenbound]

It’s been a while since I sent an ask but I wanted to share these hcs;

Shinso’s biological father being an Eastern European immigrant

Bakugou being aspec abrosexual as in he is in a perpetual state of moving on the asexual spectrum

Kaminari was nefed in power and intelligence so in my head he’s the top student in literature but because he’s failing math, just barely passing science, and all his other subjects he’s a C student

I also think he uses big words in casual conversation and his quirk’s drawback is from a mental block he developed after a traumatic experience with his quirk

Kirishima gains weight to improve his quirk but loses weight after losing it so his weight fluctuates but is still chonky boi that gives good hugs and has big muscles

Jirou went deaf as a child but she uses her jacks as built in hearing aids

Ochako has been volunteering at soup kitchens since she was a little kid and is close to her dad, who experienced homelessness as a teenager

Mina has five brothers and two sisters, lives with her grandmother and single mom aunt who has a toddler her family has been raising all together

Todoroki had bpd before PTSD but they weren’t diagnosed until after the war and the additional trauma caused him to try something drastic but thankfully it actually helped the family get their shit together

Momo lives alone with the butler as her parents are never around and her sister attends/attended military school but she helps momo realize she is being neglected and deserves to decide if she wants to stay involved with their family or take her offer to live together as roommates until one of them moves out

Mitsuki becomes gentler with her son after the war to the point of not wanting him to continue being a hero because she doesn’t want to have to bury her only son

Sero is canonically neighbors with the Yaoyorozus but he has a healthier relationship with his family in that they’re trying their best and he has younger siblings

Tsu doesn’t talk much because she doesn’t want to have to explain her croaks are involuntary because of her tourette’s not her quirk and it’s difficult for her to get people to take her seriously. This also why Bakugo is less rude to her along with her personality of only talking when it’s relevant to the situation or sarcastic comments that he finds funny

He also doesn’t like Izuku’s muttering because 1) he’s worried that he’s plotting something 2) he doesn’t like not being able to hear people in general because it reminds him that his hearing deteriorating. He’s fine with rambling as long as it’s relevant to the situation and he can hear the person speaking

I don’t know if I have anything to add really, I think I agree with pretty much everything you said because it all sounds really interesting

[starrihan]

Hii <3

How do you think &Team Hyung line would react to female best friend not wearing a bra and they accidentally touch them.

I love ur writing! ⭐️

hiii nonnie! youre too sweet thank you!!! i always appriciate when people say they love my writing 🥹🥹 also its crazy that i already had an idea to write something like this so im excited that we had the same idea!

each part is ~500-700 words long (they get longer for each member 😅)

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

༄ ༄ ༄

K:

he called you over to the dorms as if it were an emergency. you were laying in bed, about to go to sleep when his messages kept buzzing your phone. you groaned, picking up the device and looking at the dimly lit screen, only to read in all caps: "Y/N COME QUICK ITS URGENT I NEED YOUR HELP!" so of course you spring into action, not bothering to put on a bra and just grabbing your jacket, bolting out the door.

you're there within minutes, making sure you brought emergency meds and a first aid kit just incase, knowing the boys didn't have any at their dorm.

"whats all this for?"

K says casually as he opens the door. But you don't pay him any mind, running in:

"WHERES THE EMERGENCY? WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY? WHERE'S TAKI? DID MY SON GET INJURED?!"

you look around frantic, adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

"what? no. i needed your help with this recipe. i don't know how to do this one technique and you cook so i thought–"

your back is turned to him, anger bubbling up inside of you.

"–Koga Yudai. you texted me that it was an emergency but ALL YOU NEEDED WAS HELP WITH A GODDAMNED RECIPE??!! I COULD JUST KILL–"

he reaches his hand out, trying to grab your shoulder to spin you around when you decide to turn yourself, stopping your sentence when his big hand lands straight on your right boob. he's frozen in place, stunned by his own hand placement.

"hello? earth to K? mind taking your hand off of my chest so i can yell at you more you sick pervert?"

"oh, uh... yeah, sorry..."

he says, nervously, an awkward hand going to scratch at the nape of his neck as a light pink blush dusts his cheeks.

"what? you've never touched a boob before? why the bashfulness?"

his blush grows deeper, quickly denying your allegations.

"i've touched a woman's boobs before but never my best friend's! sorry for feeling embarrassed, damn."

you shrug your shoulder, crossing your arms over your chest, elevating them.

"i didn't mind it. you could've kept it there longer, its been a while since someone's touched them anyway, what better person to do it then you i guess."

its like his brain short-circuited for a second. like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"you're serious? you want me to keep touching your boobs?"

"i didn't mean it like that. i'm just saying if you want to, you can."

you look away, feeling a little embarrassed yourself now for even suggesting the idea.

"and suddenly i'm not hungry anymore."

he looks at you dead in the face as you look down, watching the ever-growing tent in his pants forming before your eyes, a smirk creeping its way onto your face as you let out a little chuckle.

"you're too easy, you know that?"

"i'm a touch starved man and busy, what did you think was going to happen?"

༄ ༄ ༄

Fuma:

you wanted to start going to the gym to get in shape. you had many events coming up and you wanted to be in the best shape you could, at least to keep your energy up throughout the day, so of course you enlisted the help of your best friend and gym rat, Fuma.

"you better be grateful, i'm skipping one of my precious gym days to help you out."

you stop in tracks, bowing down to him and being extra dramatic in your delivery:

"thank you, oh great lord Fuma. your assistance is much appreciated i have no earthly idea what i would do without your holy guidance!"

he rolls his eyes, gently nudging you forward as you laugh at your own antics. upon making it to the gym, you set your belongings down near the yoga mats, stretching first as a warm-up. he shows you what to do, like your own personal trainer, having you complete a set of stretches and even some Pilates-style workouts before heading over to the big machines.

after your workout, you both decided to get some food. you head over the bathrooms, showering quickly before putting your gym clothes away and putting on your regular outfit. you look in your bag, finding everything you needed except for a spare bra. after looking in your bag two more times, you curse at yourself, realizing that you forgot to pack an extra bra. the shirt you brought to wear after your workout was a little tight, but you hoped not much could be seen, you didn't really have an other choices for clothing, opting not to bring a jacket today because it was nice out.

upon walking out, you can't help but shiver, the cool air from the AC's blasting throughout the gym catching you off guard. you didn't notice the way your nipples had pebbled due to the cold. you sit at one of the nearby benches, waiting for Fuma. a couple minutes later, he walks out with all of his belongings.

"finally, took you long enough!"

you exasperate, getting up and facing him. he laughs, looking down at you when he notices your nipples poking through the shirt. you don't notice his wandering eyes, another shiver running up your body.

"cold?"

he says as you nod.

"i think its just the AC's though, i should be fine outside."

"no, here."

he says, going to put his jacket over your shoulders. you laugh, trying to fight his jacket away, saying you'll be fine one you leave the gym. he continues his actions though, now just to tease you but stops when he manages to get the jacket over both of your shoulders, the palm of his hand grazing your hard nipple as you let out a soft moan.

he looks at you in shock as your face flushes a deep red, embarrassment coursing through your body as the moan you let out because of your best friend. you take the jacket, forcefully pulling it over your shoulders to hide your chest.

"if i had known you would be moaning for me i wouldn't have done it in public."

he says, trying to lighten the mood.

"so you would do it in private?"

you look at him, dumbfounded by the audacity of the man in front of you to crack such jokes.

"only if you wanted me to."

he says, walking ahead of you while laughing. you scoff angrily, catching up to him.

"you're a freak!"

"i'm not the one that moaned in public because of my best friend."

the smirk he wore on his face was smug, but you couldn't lie and say you didn't consider his offer after that.

༄ ༄ ༄

Nicholas:

he called you over to the practice room one day, asking for help on this new choreography that he was trying to learn. you had both met in a dance academy so he knew he could rely on you as a dance partner to help him out.

thinking that it wasn’t going to be anything too vigorous, you opted for a comfy outfit, a simple hoodie and leggings and no bra. heading to the room, you greet your best friend with a hug.

“Y/N!”

Nicholas calls out. you hadn’t seen him in a while with his group being so busy promoting and preparing for a comeback and tour, so naturally you were really excited to see him again.

“Nicho!”

after catching up for a bit, he showed you the choreo, laughing a little when you tried to replicate the moves with just your arms first. once you felt you had the hand movements down, you stood up to practice the actual steps of the dance, the footwork a little confusing at first.

after practicing by yourself for a while, you told Nicholas that you were ready to practice with him, going over each move step by step. he was having difficulty executing the move smoothly. the way he was doing it made the dance feel segmented instead of flowing naturally with his body. the move required him to spin into a backflip, then having to continue the dance without getting dizzy as the footwork was hard.

you practiced over and over again, helping him with his spins into the flip, but each time he’d mess up the footwork afterwards, still slightly disoriented from the spin-flip.

you tell him to rest a little, practicing the moves separately at first before trying to combine them. you started off fine, facing the same struggles as him before understanding how you kept yourself oriented. Nicholas just stood there, watching as you tried over and over again to perfect the move. he could tell you were starting to get a little dizzy yourself, the speed in combination with such difficult moves catching up to you.

you tried again, losing control of your spin. you braced yourself, expecting your back to hit the hardwood floor, but never feeling the impact. instead, you look up, opening your eyes to see a wide-eyed Nicho looking down at you in horror.

“geez, do I look that ugly from this angle? why do you look so scared?”

but it isn’t until the adrenaline wears off that you feel it: both of Nicholas’s hands cupping your unsupported tits. your eyes go just as wide as his before you find the footing to get yourself up.

“why aren’t you wearing a bra? we’re practicing a dance!”

“i didn’t think it was gonna be this hard! bras are uncomfortable!”

you’re yelling at each other out of embarrassment, the blush on both of your cheeks the same color as Nicho’s hair, but he couldn't argue your logic.

"next time i ask you to practice can you please wear a bra?"

"why? its not like you'll have to hold them again."

"well what if i do?"

and you look at him confused, cause why would he need to hold your boobs for a dance?

"if you do then you're a pervert for wanting to hold them again. too good to keep your hands off?"

he looks away from you as if your stare could turn him into stone, but his silence intrigues you.

"oh my god Nicholas do you want to hold my boobs again?"

"well not when you put it like that, you weirdo."

he grumbles, hands in his face that he even admitted that in the first place.

"if you can perfect this part by the end of the day i'll let you hold them again."

his head shoots up from his palms, the motivation to learn the dance rushing back. he gets up without a word, practicing again.

"and i'm the weirdo."

༄ ༄ ༄

Euijoo:

you had asked him to study at library together. you both had exams coming up, but you didn't want to study alone, so you called him to keep you company knowing he had his own work to catch up on.

"hey Y/N! thanks for inviting me out to study with you. i've gotten so sick and tired of being holed away in my dorm. Nicholas can be a handful sometimes."

he sighs, putting his stuff down across from you at the library table. you laugh, enjoying his little anecdote.

"i've only met him a couple of times, but he does seem a little high-maintenance. i'm glad i could get you out of there for a bit! i know i'm gonna be here for at least 4 hours studying for this exam."

you sigh, getting ready to bury yourself in your books, catching a glimpse of Euijoo putting his glasses on above your laptop screen. you didn't want to admit it to yourself, but you had been crushing on Euijoo for a while now. you felt wrong about it, knowing that he was your best friend and that he probably didn't see you in that way.

about an hour into your study session, you look around your work space, overwhelmed at the amount of papers and books you have scoured open to write this essay. it was a 15-page research paper for your biomed class that required you to search through published books you couldn't find online. you stand up, alerting Euijoo of your plan to search for a particular book, not to mention the fact that you needed to stretch your legs. he nods, going back to his work.

you don't travel very far, still within Euijoo's line of sight as you come across the biomed section. you scan the bookshelf, silently cheering when you find the book. you go on your tippy-toes, the book much higher on the shelf than you were able to distinguish upon initially seeing it. you kept trying, just barely grazing the book each time.

looking up from his laptop, he notices your struggle, finding it cute before chuckling to himself and getting up to help you.

"need some help?"

he chuckles, watching you struggle some more. you turn to face him, about to say yes when you feel your hand on the book slip, knocking it out of place. Euijoo moves quickly, grabbing your waist to move you out of the way of the book's fall, or what he thought was your waist.

you look up at him, surprised etched on your face, one because of how quickly he reacted in moving you out of the way, essentially protecting you, but two because of his risqué hand placement, especially since you chose today of all days not to wear a bra underneath your hoodie. it didn't help that he was holding onto you so tight, effectively squeezing your tits.

"are you okay? you didn't get hurt, right?"

you smile at his concern, shaking your head 'no,' awkwardly pointing your finger at his hand that was still wrapped around you, probably out of shock and making sure you were okay. the blush on your face makes so much sense to him now, reeling his hand back in horror after realizing what he had been holding this whole time, but he couldn't help but think about how your tits felt in his hands, especially without a bra.

"oh my god i'm so sorry. i guess i underestimated our height difference, i thought i was holding your waist..."

you found his nervousness adorable but you thanked him nonetheless for helping you out.

"do you usually not wear bras?"

your entire body heats up at his question, not expecting him to be so bold. you shake your head, looking down to avoid his gaze while picking up the dropped book.

"i normally do wear them, but they do get uncomfy, maybe i shouldn't wear them as often."

you look up to see his reaction, his face the same shade of red as yours. you exchange quiet glances during the rest of your study session, not being able to shake the thought of your crush holding your boobs.

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

[miscretis]

Discord Mod!Ronin x Discord Kitten!Reader (G.n) [PART 1 OF A CRACK FIC TAKEN SERIOUSLY]

CG art by: munstxr

WRITER'S NOTE

This used to be satire but I quickly took it quite seriously which was hilarious. Yes I still find this quite funny to write.

CW:

- Cringe

- Possibly dull writing (I'm still new and I'm tired)

- Coarse Language

❣️

“So, what would'ja do now? Taste the feeling of metallic death by my crowbar? Or ya gonna kiss me? Or are you gonna kill me? I got a knife right here! ” He lets out a dark chuckle as he closes up the gap between the both of you, pinning you to the wall. Now, how did you two end up in the dark alleyways of the Purgatory? Or rather, how did you even end up in this situation?

It all started with a text, a passcode and a link.

ERROR!UNKNOWN: don't be so obvious smh. You're Gonna Get Caught.

ERROR!UNKNOWN sent you a file.exe

ERROR!UNKNOWN: ReceivedKey: k!llrch8t_b00t.mango

here Ya go there's your Key Whenever you're Ready.

What the fuck? What is this?

All you were trying to do was to collect research for your dark romance serial killer novel and now you're being sent a strange link? (Especially after tweeting a question about killing experience with a crowbar.)

It seemed like a link to a Walmart version of discord but on the darkweb. You were wary at first, thinking about how your IP could've been doxxed if you ever clicked on the link. However you felt pressured to click on it when a notification sounded from your PC.

ERROR!UNKNOWN: are You gonna Join? you're no Fun at all.

Whoever this person was, he seemed like he wanted to mess around. Well, fine, you'll give him entertainment then.

You then clicked on the link.

You were led to a shady site with a blank for keying in the passcode. You remember the person giving you the passcode but it was long and complicated so you couldn't really memorise it properly.

Uh….maybe I'll just try keying in ‘password’?

ERROR! Wrong passcode. 2 more tries and your IP address will be revealed.

Well, shit.

You continued to rack your brain around for any possible passwords for this situation. You tried different passwords until a message showed up…

ERROR! Wrong password! Your IP address will be revealed in 3 seconds!

…

Just kidding, come on inside.

You entered a chatroom named “The Slaughterhouse.” with the exact same interface as discord. The channels, layout and everything.

<goreboy> welcome the Newly Christened @user

<hitmeuppp> AAA omg omg!! welcome to helllllll

<LUCA_IS_SO_COOL> WELCOME WELCOME HIIIIIII

<felicite> Nice to meet you!

<Angelic> Hi there! Glad to have another one with us ❤️

<goreboy> make Sure to take a Peek at #rules

there is Barely Anything but You Never Know

…

It's a serial killer chatroom. This has to be satire…right?

Oh god

You checked the rules.

<goreboy> Be a serial killer. first rule of Fight Club. Whatever i don't really give a shit lmfao. Oh and be nice don't be racist or transphobic or weird else angel will snipe u :\

<Angelic> it's not a threat it's a promise

Maybe this is just an intense roleplaying server

This must be it. These people are weirdos, not serial killers.

…

Maybe I’ll just play along…for now..

A day or two went by and they were still into the intense roleplay. It was weird in all honesty. Being in a server full of probably edgy teenagers talking about killing people seems to be the last time on your checklist of things to do. Least to say, it was fun and entertaining to watch. Watching them say the cringiest of things, it sure really gave you a good laugh. However soon after, you were getting bored and tired of watching by the sidelines for weeks despite the roleplay being a perfect source of research for your novel.

But a roleplay is just a roleplay…isn't it?

So, you decided to mess around to cure your boredom. Just a little more fun wouldn't hurt.

You lean back against your chair, pondering what you should do. Suddenly your thoughts drifted off to discord memes that your friends have been sending to you, then it clicked.

A discord kitten

You're not sure if you should do it, being a discord kitten is dangerous work and surely isn't a smart thing to do, especially in a server probably full of serial killers…

But yet again, they're just edgy teenagers that were very niche in intense roleplay, it would be fun to mess with them…but do you?

…

Fine, I'll play it this way then.

First of all, you need to find your discord mod to your discord kitten and you immediately chose the top dog, the alpha of the server, goreboy. Ronin…isn't it?

Oh god, I can't believe that I'm losing my dignity for this.

But what route could this open? A dangerous and gloomy path, or a sweet flowery romance?

At this point, you don't really care about that anymore. You just wanted to tell a good story.

[yokumirumerafan]

Shigaraki x reader (Au y/n student in UA)

OK guys, I am really sorry for absence, I figured that I have a thing for military men and that's been the only thing occupying my brain, I geniunely just forgot to post because between CoD and trying to finish Saiki. K, I didn't have time nor ideas to post something.

So I hope I can make it up to ya'll by this long ass Shiggy x y/n!!

1. The Book Moment 📚

Shigaraki is in his usual spot, lounging with a book in hand. But his eyes? They’re not on the pages.

He’s staring at you, watching as you laugh at some random comment from Dabi or a fellow League member.

His grip on the book tightens, but he doesn't say anything... until you glance over at him.

“What? You think I’m reading? Nah, just trying to look busy while you have their attention.”

You blink, not understanding at first, and then his hand slides out from behind the book, fingers brushing over your knee under the table.

“Don’t get too comfortable with them, angel. I’ll remind you who you belong to later.”

His voice is smooth but edged with possessiveness. Cue second-hand embarrassment when the entire League looks at you two, but you can’t stop the shivers running up your spine. 😈

2. Silent Treatment (Jealousy Edition) 🖤

You’ve been spending a lot of time with someone else—a lot of time in the gym with Mr. Compress, sparring, laughing, getting closer... and Shigaraki notices.

So he goes silent.

You try to talk to him, and he just glares at you, eyes cold, not uttering a word.

“I’m fine.” He says that when you ask him what's wrong, his tone so dismissive it makes you second-guess every move you make.

You finally give in, hugging him from behind when he's sitting on the couch, “What’s going on, Tomura?”

He sighs dramatically, but just as you think it’s going to be one of those awkward conversations, his arms wrap around you tightly.

“Don’t ever talk to him like that again.”

And then—“You’re mine, right? You wouldn’t leave me for some damn clown.”

Cue your heart skipping a beat and the overwhelming urge to kiss him senseless, but you’re still dying of second-hand embarrassment.

3. Random Texts from Shiggy 📱💀

You’re busy, distracted by your work, when suddenly your phone buzzes.

It’s a random text from Shigaraki:

“I swear to god, if I see him get too close to you again, I’ll ruin his life.”

You blink, confused, until you realize he’s talking about the random dude from earlier.

Another message: “Come to the room when you’re done. I have a few ideas to show you how much I care.”

You bite your lip, already imagining what those "ideas" might be.

The texts only get spicier as the day goes on, but that’s Shiggy—always keeping you on your toes.

“I’ll make sure to mark you up later, just so everyone knows who you belong to.”

4. Sneaking Around Base (Jealous Boyfriend Mode) 🔥

Shigaraki is sneaky as hell. You’re not sure where he’s been, but you find out when you enter the training room.

There he is, hiding behind the door like some creepy stalker—just staring at you and Dabi chatting.

When Dabi jokes around, you laugh loudly, and suddenly you hear the distinct sound of something snapping.

Shigaraki steps out, face red with embarrassment from getting caught, but his tone is icy as he walks past you.

“Get over here, now.” He growls, dragging you by the wrist, but not before glaring at Dabi, who laughs nervously and pulls away.

“I hate you both right now,” he mutters under his breath.

As he leads you away, you smirk, but his hand clamps down on your wrist, tightening when you glance at Dabi’s retreating form.

“Don’t. Ever. Laugh at him like that again.”

5. Cute Jealousy in Public 💀

Shigaraki’s jealousy isn’t quiet. You’re at a bar, having a nice night with everyone when a random guy starts chatting you up.

At first, you ignore it, but it quickly escalates to the guy touching your arm too many times.

You feel a presence hovering over you before you hear his voice:

“Excuse me. She’s mine.”

Shigaraki is standing there, all cool and collected, hand resting on your waist, pulling you close with an intense stare directed at the guy.

“Don’t ever touch her again. Got it?”

The guy stammers before backing off, and Shigaraki turns to you with a small smirk on his face.

“You should know better than to wear that around others. They can’t keep their eyes off you.”

6. Fluffy Date Gone Wrong 🍝

You’re out at a quiet restaurant, everything’s going perfectly, and Shigaraki’s even trying his best to be gentle (sort of).

But then, of course, someone looks at you a little too long—and that’s enough to set him off.

He snaps.

Without warning, he’s out of his seat, gripping your hand and dragging you outside.

You’re about to ask what’s going on when he slams the door shut behind him.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop dressing like that? Everyone’s looking at you, and it pisses me off.”

His hand tightens around your wrist, but he’s not hurting you—he’s just desperate to be the one who gets your attention.

“You’re not going anywhere tonight. We’re going back to the base. You’re going to remind me that I’m the only one who gets to have you.”

Embarrassed, you try to apologize, but he pulls you into his arms, kissing you deeply, cutting off your words with his own, just muttering:

“I don’t care about the rest of them. I’m just here for you.”

7. The “I’m Not Jealous, But” Scene 💔

It’s been a long day at the base, and you're chatting casually with some of the others. You talk to Mr. Compress about something funny, and Shigaraki happens to walk by.

“What’s so funny?”

His voice sounds sharp, but he’s just standing there, watching with narrowed eyes.

You smile, “Just talking with the guys, Shiggy.”

The word "Shiggy" seems to trigger something in him. He’s way more sensitive than usual and cuts in:

“You think he’s funny? I can be funny. Watch.”

He proceeds to do something utterly ridiculous, trying to make you laugh—but the whole thing ends with Shigaraki sulking when you just giggle.

“I wasn’t jealous, okay? You’re just… mine.”

1. Stalker Shigaraki (Classroom Edition) 🖤

You’re in class, just trying to get through your lessons when you feel a pair of eyes on you. You glance around, but there’s no one in your direction.

You continue to focus on your notes, but the feeling of being watched intensifies. You turn to your side window, and there he is—Shigaraki, casually leaning against the school wall, peeking inside the classroom through a crack.

You gasp and quickly turn back, hoping no one noticed him, but you can feel his presence, and you know he’s still there.

At lunch, you go to the cafeteria, and just when you sit down, Shigaraki appears at your table, casually dropping a single tray in front of you.

“What? Did you think I was stalking you? Nah, I was just making sure no one else had the honor of sitting next to you.”

His voice is smooth, like he was just waiting for you to notice, but his eyes are a little more intense today. He’s never been this obvious.

He doesn’t sit down, though. Instead, he just watches you eat and keeps sending you weird flirty texts under the table while you try to ignore him.

2. The Random “Stalker” Texts (Creepy & Hot) 📱

You're studying in the U.A. library, nose buried in a textbook, when suddenly your phone buzzes.

It’s from Shigaraki. You check it, expecting something normal, but instead:

“I can see your reflection in the window. You look so pretty when you’re distracted.”

You almost drop your phone. What the hell? You glance around but can’t spot him anywhere.

Next message: “I’ll be watching. I love how you chew on that pencil. It’s cute.”

You freeze. He’s watching? WHERE is he??

The final message: “Stop thinking so hard. You know you could use a break. Meet me behind the school later.”

Your heart races. He’s really pulling this stalker thing, and you’re honestly not sure if you should be scared or turned on by the intensity of his words. You have a feeling he’s not entirely joking. 😏

3. After Class Sneak Attack 👀

It’s after school, and you’re walking down the hallway to head home. The school is mostly empty, the halls quiet—except for a pair of footsteps you swear you hear following you.

You look behind, but there’s no one there.

The footsteps get closer.

“Do you like being followed?”

You freeze, and when you turn, Shigaraki is leaning against the wall, his smirk absolutely chilling.

“I see you’re trying to avoid me again, but it’s not gonna work. You’re mine now, remember?”

He’s smirking, but his eyes are filled with that dark intensity. You can feel the heat building in the air around you.

Before you can say anything, he walks up to you, his hand sliding around your waist.

“If you need a break, just say it. I’m here for you… anytime.”

You’re starting to realize: Shigaraki is the kind of guy who watches you at school and makes it weirdly hot, all while giving you absolutely zero space.

4. The Text That Makes Your Heart Race 💬

You’re in class, the teacher talking at the front of the room. You’re doing your best to focus when suddenly, you get a message from Shigaraki.

“I’m outside. If you look out the window, you’ll see me.”

You blink. You don’t even look out the window at first. You’re thinking, maybe it’s a joke.

But your curiosity gets the best of you. You glance at the window, and there he is—standing in the middle of the courtyard, just staring up at the window, that same knowing smirk playing on his lips.

He waves at you, but it’s the way he does it—casual, like he’s just making sure you’re paying attention.

Your heart skips a beat. You feel exposed but somehow tingling at the idea that he’s been watching you the whole time.

Next text: “You’re mine. Don’t forget that, okay? I’ll be waiting.”

You suddenly realize, maybe this is how your life is going to be now—Shigaraki stalking you, making his presence known in the creepiest but hottest ways.

5. Weird Confession via Text (LOL, Poor Y/N) 😩

You’re texting Shigaraki back, but you’re also noticing something strange.

The text doesn’t make sense, and it's clear he’s been staring at his phone screen for too long before typing it out.

“I wanna kiss you, but not in front of everyone. I’ll make sure they don’t get too close to you, so I can kiss you however I want.”

You raise an eyebrow. Did he just?

“And when I kiss you, I’ll make sure you know who’s in charge. I’ll ruin that pretty little mouth of yours, but don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with you... maybe.”

Your phone vibrates with another message, this time with a little more hesitation.

“Wait… what I mean is, you’d better stop teasing me. It’s hard to think straight when you wear things like that.”

By the time you process the first message, he’s already sent another one:

“You know what, don’t worry about it. I just want to kiss you... and no one’s going to stop me. You get it?”

Now you’re genuinely flushed. He’s gone from creepy stalker to openly possessive. You can’t help but be turned on and embarrassed at the same time.

6. Date in the Alley (Creepy but Sexy) 🌙

It’s late at night, and you’re walking alone through the empty streets of U.A., heading back to your dorm after a late study session.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps behind you—fast and deliberate. You try to ignore it, but then you feel the presence.

Shigaraki steps out from the shadows, a dark smirk on his face as he closes the gap between the two of you.

“You didn’t think I’d let you walk home alone, did you?”

He grabs your wrist, leading you to a dark alley where it’s just the two of you.

“I’ve been watching, princess. Thought you could get away from me?”

His fingers graze your cheek, and you feel the heat rising between you both.

No one’s around. It’s just you and him, in the middle of nowhere, and the tension is thick.

“Let’s see how long you can stay away from me now, hm?”

He’s dangerously close, eyes dark with desire—and you have no idea whether you want to run away or kiss him senseless.

7. Text After School Hours 😏

You get a text after a particularly stressful day at U.A., and it's from Shigaraki:

“Are you finished with your little classes? I’m waiting for you at your dorm. Don’t be late.”

You text back: “I’m still studying, give me a few more hours.”

His response is immediate:

“Nah. You’re mine, and I don’t like waiting. Come to me, or I’ll just pick you up.”

“You know, I’m not afraid to cause a little scene. You wouldn’t want me to do that, right?”

You don’t respond immediately, but the whole time you’re studying, you can’t stop thinking about his threats—and just how hot they sound coming from him.

Shigaraki Jealousy & Second-Hand Embarrassment HCs

💀 THE WAY HE GETS CAUGHT STALKING YOU Shigaraki thinks he’s slick, lurking around UA’s campus like some cryptid in a hoodie. But one day, you and your friends are walking to the dorms, and Mina goes: "Yo… is that some hobo staring at us from behind the bushes?" You turn around and SEE HIM, frozen mid-step like a damn NPC glitching out. Bro makes DIRECT EYE CONTACT with you, panics, and—INSTEAD OF RUNNING—just DROPS TO THE GROUND AS IF HE DISAPPEARED. 💀💀💀 Mina: "…Did he just—???" Kirishima: "Nah, bro really thought that would work." You: Facepalming "I don't know him."

💀 HIS "SMOOTH" JEALOUSY TACTICS (FAILS EVERY TIME) Shigaraki sees some dude talking to you at school, and instead of handling it like a normal person, he decides to interrupt by sending you the most OUT-OF-POCKET text: 📱 "Break his arms." You: "??? TOMURA WTF??" 📱 "If you don’t, I will. 😐" And when you ignore it? He sends ANOTHER one. 📱 "Bet he doesn’t even know how to 1v1 in Mario Kart. Weak." Later that night, he rants in your messages like: 📱 "How dare he breathe near you." 📱 "Not jealous, just saying, I could obliterate him if I wanted." 📱 "Whatever, talk to your little ‘friend’ then. I don’t care. But if he so much as looks at you wrong, I’m disintegrating his kneecaps."

💀 THE TIME HE GOT JEALOUS OF A TEACHER 💀 Bro catches you laughing at Aizawa’s joke in class (not even a flirty moment—just a normal joke), and he texts you IMMEDIATELY: 📱 "You tryna get extra credit or what? 🙄" You: "??? Tomura, he's my teacher??" 📱 "Yeah, and??? Don’t care. I’ll kill him." You: "PLEASE DON'T DISINTEGRATE MY HOMEROOM TEACHER." 📱 "Bet he doesn’t even game. Cringe."

💀 THE WORST PUBLIC EMBARRASSMENT You’re chilling in class when suddenly, your phone VIBRATES LIKE CRAZY. Notifications FLOOD your screen because this man??? SENT YOU 32 VOICE MESSAGES. AND YOU ACCIDENTALLY CLICK ONE. Now the ENTIRE CLASS hears: 🎤 "Angel, pick up the damn phone. I miss you. Why aren’t you answering? Are you with someone? You better not be. I swear to god if I find out—" Click. DEAD. SILENCE. Everyone is STARING. Bakugo: "The fuck kinda psycho boyfriend you got??" You: hiding under your desk "I HATE MY LIFE." Mina: "AWWWW IT’S KINDA CUTE THO???" Midoriya: whispering "Should we call the police…?"

💀 THE TIME HE TRIED TO SCARE OFF YOUR CLASSMATES (AND FAILED) Shigaraki, in his delusional gremlin brain, thinks he’s INTIMIDATING. So when he casually breaks into UA and sneaks into your dorm, he waits for your friends to come in so he can glare at them from the shadows like some horror movie villain. Except the second he steps out like "boo"— Denki: "Oh hey, Y/N! Who’s your crusty friend?" Sero: "Bro looks like he hasn’t showered in a year." Mina: "AWWWW IS THIS THE BOYFRIEND???" Shigaraki, visibly struggling to process being BULLIED IN 4K: "HUH???" Denki, whispering: "Why does he look like he bites?" Sero: "I bet he growls in his sleep." Shigaraki, actually growling: "GET OUT." You: "PLEASE STOP ROASTING MY VILLAIN BOYFRIEND, HE'S GONNA KILL YOU."

💀 WHEN HE TRIES TO BE SMOOTH BUT FAILS HORRIBLY Shigaraki, thinking he’s being all sexy, leans over you and whispers in a deep voice: "You belong to me, angel. No one else gets to touch you." But then his hoodie drawstring gets caught on your shirt button, and now y’all are stuck. Face to face. Neither of you can move. You: "…Well, this is awkward." Shigaraki: internally screaming "Help."

I'm really sorry this ain't the best written ever and it may have grammmar mistakes (have mercy on my I'm not English I'm freaking Ukrainian!)

[uptownbird]

now, who exactly is thea?

「  ₊  ☆  ﾟ  geraldine viswanathan,  she/her,  cis woman  」  INCOMING  TEXT: omg  hv  u  met  CYNTHIA “THEA” CHAKRABARTI  of  the  NARIZA BOIS  yet  ?  they’re  one  of  the  crew’s  mechanics  n  actually  go  by  BLUEBIRD.  the twenty five  y/o  is  typically  seen  hanging  arnd  aventura mall.  allegedly  they’re  frm  windsor square, ca  n  hv  been  w/  the  crew  for  A YEAR.  wtvr.  just  watch  out  for  them,  k  ?  ttyl  !  「  ₊ ☆ﾟ  panda,  24,  she/her,  cst  」

interview

- when  did  you  first  realize  you  had  a  passion  for  cars  /  racing?

oh, never. i am indifferent to cars and actually dislike racing, which is such a childish and crass sport. thea, trying to seem as cool as she is uptight, obviously does not say that out loud, instead deciding to lie through her pearly-white teeth; “it might have started half-a-decade ago, i believe. while driving one of my parents´-”  rolls-royce, bugatti, mercedes,  “-car. their car! an, um, red car.” reeeal smooth thea. you really cannot think of any ordinary car brands???? you work with cars for christ’s sake. “anyway. i really liked that car! and driving, and stuff. so when i ran away from home…” okay you got it now thea, just bend the truth a liiiittle bit. “…i immediately began applying for jobs that were automobile-related, of course. I especially wanted to be a professional car mechanic.” god, please let that be accurate terminology, “what could be better than making money out of something i'm passionate about, right?” so far the conversation has been at least 85% false. ughhh. 

now, what actually happened was this: cynthia, now thea, ran away from a very opulent home and closed-minded parents. the girl had never worked a day in her life and the only place that would hire her was a tiny automobile repair shop with an exceedingly compassionate owner that somehow saw potential in her. there, thea was taught everything she now knows about the trade. life made her understand (the hard way) that knowing latin and being classically trained in the violin wasn't worth anything outside of her now-abandoned bubble.

- tell  the  story  behind  your  alias.

the girl feels so relieved when hearing this question that a real smile quickly spreads over her face, covering the fake-and-practiced one she had been showing off just before. “oh i love birds! i truly do. for so many years i also envied them, if you can believe it. the fact that i could never be free like them filled me with silly jealousy and- what? i am being completely serious! just think about it, birds´ ability to fly is an evolutionary advantage; unlike us grounded mammals, they can go anywhere they like, whenever they fancy. now, do not think i believe birds to be almighty,” not anymore at least, “but the limits they have are nothing compared to the ones that we, people, place on our kind. wait. and now that i truly think about it…” thea, against her own judgement, is currently committing the cardinal sin of ranting to a complete stranger. “...the only animal cruel enough to place birds in cages is humanity.” so maybe, i have always been a bird. just a caged one.

the girl stops talking for long enough to realize that all that thinking-out-loud was said, well, out loud. shit. “well, but that was just a bunch of nonsense, wasn't it? silly me! might have to get checked for either a fever or brain-eating bacteria!” probably the second option. her fake smile returns, all teeth and zero emotion. time to end the conversation, now. “and um, bluebirds are, of course, lovely and quite intelligent.” smile and shut up thea. this cannot happen again.

--------------------------------------------------------

headcanons

thea is a lesbian, though she isn’t completely aware of the fact. she tends to avoid the topic even in her own mind.

a hopeless romantic at heart, the girl keeps romance novels hidden under her mattress. her favorite ones having their first pages decorated with expensive lipstick.

growing up in a very high-class family, she began to feel suffocated with everything that was expected of her. As the only child, her parents were molding her into a perfect heiress. realizing she is attracted to girls (which was not part of their plan) was the tipping point, and thea ran away from home at 17 years old.

she cries easily, especially in movies and when arguing with someone.

thea is the nosiest person alive, and will go out of her way to get details about any gossip she becomes aware of. even if it doesn’t concern her. especially if it doesn’t concern her.

so desperately she wants to seem cool and collected, though she does an awful job on acting the part. mostly because of her intense personality.

even though the chatterbox loves the sound of her own voice, there are two things she tries to keep hidden at all costs: her last name, and anything about her life before she ran away from home.

her hair is a mullet? maybe? It is clear that whoever cut that has no experience with scissors whatsoever (thea cuts her own hair).

her fashion style is odd, to say the least; a mix of thrifted clothes and expensive brand pieces ran to the ground. thea likes to consider it “punk”, though she would be the only one to call it that. 

even though she is not thrilled to be a mechanic, since working with nariza bois she has begun to actually enjoy it. after all, thea comes to realize that modding is way more fun than simple automobile repairs. and she feels this job gives her an edge, in a way. 

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if u made it all the way 2 here mwah

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 24

"Your dress is here"

Yennefer read the text message from Geralt and immediately started tapping out a reply, "Send me a picture, please"

The dress was for her friend's upcoming wedding. She had been assured that it was not going to be one of those hideous bridesmaid's dresses that everyone usually picked. Most of them were either lackluster, or just plain outrageous.

Hopefully her friend kept her word. She would find out any minute now.

What the h*ll was taking Geralt so long to send the picture?

She was just about to text Geralt and tell him to hurry the f**k up, when her phone pinged.

"F***ing finally!", she muttered as she opened the message. Her hand flew to her mouth when she saw the photo.

There was Jaskier, sitting at her bedroom window, like a classical painting of a dramatically posed forlorn maiden. Or a woman on the cover of an 80's mass market paperback romance novel.

He was wearing her bridesmaid's dress.

He looked good in the light yellow chiffon...

And the dress was gorgeous, so win-win.

Okay, she was saving that one.

Yennefer texted, "You could have at least done his hair and makeup!" She chuckled when moments later, she received a photo of Jaskier with badly applied lipstick.

That picture definitely had blackmail potential!

"That shade of red is too dark. Now put my dress in the closet and get out of my room."

"And tell Jaskier not to touch my stuff!"

Geralt and Jaskier carefully put the dress on a clothes hanger and hung it in the closet. It was then that Jaskier spied a pair of Yennefer's yoga pants. He grabbed them, and started pulling them on.

"Take those off," Geralt warned.

"Oh, hush--holy sh*t look how good my a** looks in these!" Jaskier exclaimed as he turned and looked at his backside in the full length mirror on the wall.

Geralt rumbled nervously, "Put those back and let's go already! She literally just said for you not to f**k with her stuff!"

Jaskier grinned as a thought occured to him, and he stripped the pants off and held them out to Geralt.

"I bet your a** would look good in these too!"

"No."

"Come on, haven't you ever thought about wearing them, even once?"

"No."

"Come on, Geralt. You know you've got the legs and a** to pull these off! Aren't you even a little bit curious about how you'd look?"

Ok, maybe he was just a little curious. Yennefer would wear those things around the house, claiming they were super comfortable. And now that he thought about it, they were basically just a stretchy version of the trousers he usually wore, right? But then again, they were Yennefer's yoga pants, and this could all go so terribly wrong... Best to err on the side of caution and not wake up dead.

"Yennefer said for you not to touch her stuff.", Geralt replied.

"But she didn't say anything about you not touching her stuff."

Geralt hesitated as his brain whispered: he's got a point, you know.

"But..."

"Your butt. In these!" Jaskier countered, giving the yoga pants an encouraging shake. Geralt looked at Jaskier, who was all smiles and excitement, and his last functioning braincell put up an Out to Lunch sign and f**ked off.

"Gimmie those!"

Geralt: *struggling to pull up the yoga pants*

Jaskier: "Lose the undies"

Geralt: *uncomfortable "hmm"*

Jaskier: "They're adding extra bulk, and you've already got enough of your own."

Geralt: Hm!

Geralt grumbled, but decided to follow the suggestion. No sense in accidentally ripping Yennefer's pants and having to explain what happened. It was several more minutes of struggle, with Jaskier alternately laughing, and offering unhelpful advice and comments, but Geralt finally managed to squeeze himself into the gray stretchy pants.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

"I told you," Jaskier laughed, "your a** looks great!"

Geralt regarded himself in the mirror. The pants were so very, very form-fitting. The fabric was very thin and stretchy, and Geralt realised, with growing dismay, that you could just about see a nice outline of everything. He felt so d*mn exposed.

But they were very comfortable...

Hmmm.

10/10 for ease of movement, but 0/10 for the feeling of being bucka** nekkid.

"Come on, give us a strut," Jaskier said, demonstrating as he did a ridiculous little walk by the mirror, wearing Yennefer's black yoga pants.

Geralt did a tentative strut, following Jaskier around the room. He felt ridiculous at first, but then decided f**k it, let's have a little fun, and let loose. He almost threw his back out twerking, but it was worth it to see Jaskier keeling over with breathless laughter.

A dance competition ensued, but there was no clear winner because neither of them could stop laughing long enough to focus on making up any kind of scoring system.

Doped up on confidence and serotonin, Geralt only hesitated a little when Jaskier said "Let's go give the neighborhood and eyeful!"

Geralt: Hm...(Hesitant)

Jaskier: Come on, it'll be fun!"

Geralt: Hmm

Jaskier: Just once around the block! Come on, Geralt! You go jogging all the time in those tiny 80's gym shorts. They are so short, I don't know how you aren't falling out of a leg with every step! At least these have full coverage, and actual legs!

Geralt: I don't know... What if there are people out there and they see me?

Jaskier: Oh, no! Not people! Gods forbid they see you jogging in athletic wear that has an inseam of more than 2.5 inches!

Geralt glowered, but gave in. Jaskier was right. The vintage shorts he usually wore to jog in actually did have an inseam of only 2.5 inches, and he'd never cared that other people were out and about when he went on his runs.

Geralt: ...

The next thing Geralt knows, he and Jaskier are jogging around the block in their respective borrowed yoga pants. Geralt is starting to relax, the apprehension wearing off as he focuses on jogging.

He doesn't even care anymore that he isn't wearing a shirt. The woman jogging in the opposite direction didn't appear to mind either, judging from the appreciative glance she throws him as she passes.

Jaskier, jogging along beside him, spots the approaching woman, and sees a perfect opportunity. He slows down to get behind Geralt to give the woman room to pass, and quickly takes out his phone. He watched the woman's eyes surreptitiously follow the bouncing balls as she jogged past Geralt, then sneak a quick peak at the rear view.

He caught her eye and gave her a cheeky wink.

Yennefer was just on her way back to the Conclave meeting after stepping out to get herself a quick drink, when her phone pinged. It was a message from Jaskier. She sighed, wondering what a**hattery he was going to inform her of now.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Yennefer stared at the photo.

It was Geralt, or more specifically, his backside, and he was wearing a pair gray yoga pants.

It took her a second to realized that those were her gray yoga pants he was wearing.

They were stretched so tight, they looked like they had been painted on. She could see every finely sculpture curve.

Yennefer was impressed with how well they held up under the strain of containing that absolute unit of an a**, and those thighs... She couldn't even be mad.

She teased Geralt about it when she got home, showing him the picture and complimenting him on his assets.

She even changed Geralt's caller ID image on her phone to the photo of him in her yoga pants.

But it wasn't even the entire picture. It had been strategically cropped. Now, anytime he called her, what popped up was the picture of just his a** in those gray yoga pants.

[witchersmistress]

Battered and Broken

Hello my darlings, Happy Friday!!! Monster August and Walter are still in time out for being stubborn and no copperating.. bad bad boys

Trigger Warnings: the biggest one is going to be irritation with me, youll forgive me shorty i promise, blood, violence and masturbation

Word count: 7.6 K

its a long one so buckleup and hang on tight

August’s pov

The world comes back slow, like water gathering momentum. I hear voices and soft squeaks and a steady, monotonous beeping. It’s sickeningly familiar. It crashes in fast, like a wave that’s been building. I sit up, my heartbeat sending a machine into a frenzy. I start yanking at the tubes and wires in my face, my arm, my chest. So many fucking ties binding me to life. The squeaks come faster, and a hoard of nurses rushes in, shoving me back when I fight, pinning me to the bed, banging on the button to give me more meds, to sedate me. I don’t want to go under. There’s something important— And then it’s gone. When I wake again, I’m groggy, but I open my eyes this time. My brother is sitting beside me, scrolling on his phone, that damn sucker tucked into his cheek. “Where is she?” I ask. His head jerks up, his gaze flying to mine and then to the door, where our father is standing, his phone held to his ear. Baron takes his sucker out and puts a finger to his lips, turning his back to him so only I can see. “Who?” he asks aloud. Our father makes a ‘hold on’ gesture to us and then steps into the hall. “What the fuck am I doing here?” I demand. “You tell me,” Baron says. “We dropped you off at home and went out, and the next day when we woke up, we saw all these texts from Father saying you were in the ER with a concussion and a fractured skull. Again.” A little more comes back. Calling Dynamo. Meeting Colin alone at the Slaughter Pen. Throwing just enough punches to make him think I was trying. How right his fists felt connecting to my face, almost orgasmic. “When?” I ask, pushing up. I have to get her. The thought is quick and clear, a blow to the solar plexus. “A couple days ago,” Baron says, shoving the sucker back in his mouth. “Fuck,” I say, yanking the tape off my hand and jerking the IV free. Blood spurts from my vein, and my brain doubles back. Blood on Duke’s mouth. Blood on Baron’s dick. Blood on her thighs. “What are you doing?” Baron demands. “Chill the fuck out. You’re drugged out of your mind right now. Just go back to sleep.”

 “Where’s Harper?”

He glances at the door and lowers his voice. “Where we left her. She’s probably dead by now.” I shake my head. No. She can’t be dead. “I have to get her.” “You wanted her dead,” Baron reminds me. “You were going to kill her. I’m the one who told you not to. Remember?” I don’t want to remember that because then I have to remember what she did, the truth Baron showed me on her phone—hundreds of messages laid out over months, revealing the most personal, most shameful details of my life to a stranger on the internet. No, not a stranger. An enemy. She is an enemy. I don’t know why my body keeps fighting even when I remember that. But I have to get out, have to find her, have to know the truth, the reason. I yank the tube in my nose, but it hits the back of my sinuses and makes my head swim. Baron slams his chest down on mine, smacking a call button. “What the fuck,” he growls. “You’re intubated. You can’t pull that out. You’ll rupture your fucking esophagus or something.” I’m still fighting when the fucking army shows up, the nurses in pale blue scrubs that feature in too many of my nightmares already. I fucking hate hospitals. The drugs that cloud your mind, the helplessness, the way they keep you alive when you don’t want any fucking part of it. It’s all way too familiar by now. The way they think they’re saving you, but they’re destroying you. The way they keep you from saving her after you destroyed her.

Harper's POV

The first few days are hard. I don’t get out of bed except to use the bathroom, which is excruciating. There’s no point in objecting. What I want doesn’t matter. It never did. August kept telling me, but I didn’t understand. Now I do.. He never takes off the mask. He takes pictures of my face and body each day. I don’t protest. What’s the point? I sleep when he’s not asking anything of me. I appreciate, in some detached way, how little he wants, how little he bothers me, he asks for nothing, not even a response. I think if he demanded intimacy of any kind, I’d shatter completely. But he doesn’t. He barely touches me. He wakes me and dresses me and brings me to the table each day. He cooks fancy meals for me, but I don’t taste them. I eat, and when I’m done, he carries me to bed, where I curl up under the blankets. The lulling voices on Local News with Jackie fill my head as they drone on about the cost of gasoline and someone overdosing on a new street drug. I don’t hear anything about a missing girl. I fall asleep praying I won’t wake up this time. It’s around the seventh evening, as I’m slumped at the island eating some fancy herbed potatoes with glazed Brussel sprouts and salmon, when my savior and captor lays down his fork. “I have to go out for a while tomorrow,” he says. I don’t answer. I don’t care where he goes. I sleep most of the day. Sometimes the apartment is quiet, and sometimes I hear him exercising or clicking away at his keyboard in the big, open loft where he has a standing desk against one wall. I haven’t wondered where he goes or what he’s doing when he’s gone. It doesn’t matter. “Do you need to go home and get your clothes or anything?” he asks. I shrug. “I’ll buy you some clothes,” he says decisively. I don’t answer. 

“Where do you live, anyway?”

 “Mill Street.”

 My voice sounds creaky and unused. I clear my throat

 “Right.” He sips his wine and watches me for a minute.

 “I’m glad I wore a condom.” 

I don’t say anything. What is there to say? 

“Do you live alone?”

 “Yes”

He leans his elbows on the island, closing his eyes. “Thank fuck.” He always sits me on his good side, but I know why he hides under the mask. He’s a monster under the mask, disfigured and ugly. I push a bite of salmon into my mouth. It’s flaky and salty, but I don’t taste anything. The corners of my mouth have healed, and the angry red tracks across my cheeks from the ropes are gone when I look in the mirror. My body takes in food and water and heals itself. But whatever’s broken beneath the surface doesn’t change. At least you can tell, looking at him, that he’s suffered. “So will, ” he says after chewing and swallowing slowly. “Will anyone be looking for you?” I shake my head no, the only man i cared about left me for dead “Have you talked to anyone?

 “With what?” “Fuck,” he says, raising his hand like he might run it over his face. When he touches the mask, he drops his hand to his lap. “I’ll get you a phone tomorrow.” I shrug. I decide I’ll call him the Phantom, like the masked man from the opera.

 “Why hasn’t anyone called the cops?” “probably because of my job, i'm always gone for weeks at a time” 

“Oh.” He sits back on the barstool, working his tongue around inside his mouth. “That's slightly terrifying” I don’t argue.

 “I’m going up to water my plants before it gets dark,” he says, rising from the island to take his plate to the sink. “Why don’t you come? Get some air. It’ll be good for you.” He takes my plate and wine glass without asking if I’m done. I sit at the island while he cleans up. Each morning, he dresses like he’s going to an office, but every time I wake, I can hear him moving around his apartment, living. His closet is full of different shades of grey slacks and pressed dress shirts in every color. He rolls his sleeves up tan forearms before rinsing the plates and setting them neatly in the stainless-steel dishwasher. Everything here is immaculately clean and organized. I can’t imagine him getting his hands dirty. He opens a door and pulls a small tool bag from a shelf, then gestures for me to follow. I think about staying, but there’s no reason to disobey. He pulls down a drop ladder, and we climb up into a tiny attic space with exposed insulation and a door.  Opening it, he steps through into the blue evening. The door opens onto a flat roof that’s full of potted plants in different sized containers. Leaving me in the doorway, the Phantom unwinds a hose from a spool, turns on a faucet knob against the wall near the door, and starts spraying water over a rectangular box filled with curly purple and pink flowers. Their perfume lures me out onto the roof. I haven’t breathed outdoor air in a week. It’s moist and heavy, clinging to my bare arms like algae. I can hear traffic in the distance, but from the roof, I see only the same field that I can see from the huge windows in the loft below. The grass is tall and brown from winter, but green pokes up in small patches on the ground. I walk to the edge of the roof. I wonder if he’d stop me if I stepped over. There isn’t even a railing. It would be so easy. It would all be over.

I look back at the man who pulled me from the swamp, who went to such lengths to find me and bring me back. He crouches to poke in a big, round pot. His back is to me as he pulls on a pair of gloves from his bag. I could do it. It would be quick. “I got you an appointment at the women’s clinic on Wednesday,” he says. “To be tested for STDs. You can take my truck and bring it back when you’re done.” I step closer to the edge, until my toes are even with the end of the flat roof. I look down at the parking lot below. Try to remember why being up here is better than down there. I lift one foot, watching it hang suspended in the air, like a diver. He looks up when I don’t answer. His gaze moves to the edge of the roof and back to my face. Our eyes meet, and I know he can tell what I’m about to do. I wait for him to say something, to be angry or afraid. To demand to know what I’m doing, if I want to die. “I’ll bring a chair for you next time,” he says, unfolding slowly, cautiously, from his crouched position next to some sprouting plants. I watch him move, how comfortable he is in his body, how confident. He’s quick but unhurried; tall and slender, painfully elegant. He’s built like a dancer, all slim lines and measured grace. He’s at my side before I know what’s happening. His strong hands are gentle on my upper arms as they pull me back. “Good girl,” he says softly, drawing my shoulder blades flush with his chest. I know he’s thanking me for not jumping, for letting him pull me away, but in truth, I don’t have any more desire to die than I have to live. It’s not worth the effort. “You can come up here with me every day,” he says when I don’t answer. “You could use some sun.” We stare out at the overgrown lot next to his building without speaking. His breath is even, his hands barely holding on. But I can feel his heart thudding rapidly against my back with each heavy beat. I scared him. The thought registers in some distant way. He wants me to live. What I want seems equally irrelevant to both of us. There’s no point in telling him, so I don’t, and he doesn’t ask

August pov

“Where have you been?” I spin toward the voice, my hands fisting, adrenaline pumping. I don’t like being taken by surprise. “Out,” I growl. “What the fuck are you doing sitting in the dark?” Baron switches on the lamp beside the couch. Duke is sprawled across the loveseat, his eyes glassy, a tumbler of whiskey in one hand. “You’re going to get us caught,” Baron says. He picks up a sucker and begins to unwrap it slowly, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes fixed on me. “This is a small town. It’s not New York. It’s harder to hide a murder when there are only a couple a year.” “We didn’t murder anyone,” I snap, hating that he’s the reason for that. He reminded me that death is too kind. That we don’t kill Darlings. “That’s right,” Duke says. “And I’m not afraid of the cops. They’re not NYPD. They’re hicks. What can they do to us?” “If we don’t get sloppy, nothing,” I say. “No one but the three of us know what happened.” The twins glance at each other, that fucking twin telepathy thing that pisses me the fuck off. “Right?” I grind out. “Right,” Duke says. “We didn’t say anything to anyone at work. We’re not stupid.” No, not stupid. They’ve just never done this shit before. Sometimes I forget how little blood is on their hands. And that’s by design. 

Protect our brothers. King would despise me if he knew what we’d done, what I’d let them become. I should have killed her like I wanted, kept them from her, kept myself from having to admit this truth about them—that I knew what they’d do to Harper when I finally let them have her after six months of denying them. It was both their reward for respecting my previous claim and her punishment for betrayal. But I can’t remember when they became the kind of people whose attention is a punishment. The twins look up to King, though, and I’m supposed to fill his shoes. I think of what he’d say, not because I want to be like him, but because it will comfort them. Duke needs that, at least. I’m not sure Baron has whatever it is that makes a person seek comfort. “We didn’t do anything the Darlings wouldn’t have done to us,” I point out. “We eliminated a threat to the family. That’s all. A man has a right to protect his family.” That’s not what she was, and we all know it, just like we all know Crystal’s blood is on my hands. Harper was no threat to my family. She was a threat to me. I finally, truly understand what they went through with Mabel. When it happened, I saw it from the outside, and I felt for my brothers, but I didn’t get it. I thought they were fuckwits for thinking of her as human at all. I didn’t think I was capable of caring about a Darling. But now I know what the Darling girls do to a person when they set their sights on you, when they decide to play. I know how they lie and twist everything until you start to believe that against every odd, even though you know it’s impossible, someone could give a fuck.

“Who was she talking to, though?” Duke asks. “Because he might figure it out.” “I don’t think we need to worry about him,” Baron says, sliding the sucker into his mouth. “She hadn’t talked to him in weeks. She cut him off. He won’t think anything unless it makes the news.” “So, it’s our job to make sure it doesn’t,” I remind them. Our eyes meet. He gets it. He may not have blood on his hands, but he’s got the stomach for it. “Exactly,” he says. He picks up the bottle of whiskey and pours a finger into a glass, then looks me over, his gaze taking in my wet jeans and shoes. “So, again, where were you? Because we’re being careful. But parking beside the road and walking across a huge-ass rice field into the swamp is going to get us caught a hell of a lot faster than anything we might say in the locker room.” “I was looking for her phone.” “Fuck,” Baron says, leaning back and closing his eyes. “She dropped it when she was fighting us.” I nod. Even a dead phone is easily traceable. It doesn’t matter if it is at the bottom of the swamp and will never work again. They can still track it. If the Darlings go looking for her, they’ll get the law involved. They don’t play by our rules, taking care of their own problems. They have no honor. Only a person without honor could do what she did, exploiting someone’s helplessness for their own gain. For a fucking scholarship of all things. Such a pathetic, pedestrian thing. All along, she was nothing but a gold digger. We thought she didn’t know she was Darling, but she must have known. Even if she didn’t, and she really didn’t know who she was talking to, he must have known. And if he gets the cops involved, and they suspect murder, they’ll get the FBI involved. And the FBI will find her phone.

 So we have to make sure no one else looks for her. “You didn’t find her phone?” Duke asks. “No,” I say, scowling at his drunk ass. “I didn’t find it.” “We should tell Father,” Baron says. “He’ll know what to do.” “No,” I say, holding up a hand. “If we need his help, we’ll tell him then.” “Okay,” Baron says, looking skeptical. “So, what now?” “Where’d you put her clothes?” “Shit,” Duke says. “They’re in my bag.” “That’s the kind of sloppy shit we can’t do,” I say. That, and letting her drop her phone in the swamp. If they find that, they’ll search the swamp, and they’ll find her. At least… I think they will. They’ll have a whole team, dogs and infrared gear and shit that I don’t have. I’ve been in that swamp exactly once before today, and it was night by the time we left, and I was… Not entirely present. I barely remember walking into the swamp. I was in survival mode, like those months after Crystal died that I barely remember, and the ones before that I don’t remember at all. I let the monster take care of me, take care of what needed to be done, of what I couldn’t. I was weak, and he was strong. Maybe if I put him in control, he can find her. I’ll have to go back again. But I have a good reason. I looked today, my first day home from the hospital, searching until after dark, but with only my phone’s flashlight and a vague memory of being there before, I couldn’t find where we’d left her. I couldn’t find her.

“What are you thinking?” Baron asks, sitting up straight and setting his whiskey on the coffee table. “Burn her clothes?” “Yes,” I say, stepping into the living room. “She was a Darling. We need to act like it.” I’ll burn everything that ever reminded me of her, all the random shit she left at my house, my notebooks where I wrote poems about her like some pathetic lovesick dog chasing after a bitch in heat. We should burn the whole fucking town to the ground with all the Darlings in it. “She’s one of the disowned Darlings’ kids,” Duke says. “They don’t care about her.” Duke isn’t good with the aftermath, the cleanup, the details. He’s there for the fun and games, but he forgets that after the games, it’s real. “One of them cared enough to find her,” I say. “Even if the grandfather cut them off, one of them reached out to her.” “Or he did,” Duke says. “Well, she’s an adult.” Baron says, trading his sucker for the whiskey. “And her dad doesn't give a shit anyway. Right?” “We need to act like everything’s normal,” I say. For a minute, we’re frozen in confusion. None of us have the slightest idea how to be normal. “No skipping work, though. Now that August’s back, we have to act like it was just about him.” Irritation flares in me, but he’s right. I can’t be the one to go off the deep end over this. Not when it means the twins will go down with me. I should have fucking left them out of it. What was I thinking? I could have done it myself, slit her throat and dropped her in the river. But I didn’t want her in the same river where Crystal drowned. That water is sacred. She deserved swamp water. “I’ll talk to her dad.” “What?” Duke asks, sitting up straight. “Are you fucking crazy?” “No,” Baron says, holding up a hand, his eyes on me. “He’s right. That’s what a normal person would do if his ex disappeared from work. Bring back her shit, ask her dad if she’s okay. Act like you think she went back to Faulkner High.” “And in the process, see what he knows,” I say. And see if Harper’s there. I don’t add that part aloud. I don’t want my brothers to worry. We left her tied to a tree somewhere in that snake-infested swamp. I barely made it out without being bitten by one of the vipers. She couldn’t have gotten away from the ropes, let alone gotten past the snakes and hiked twenty miles back to town without shoes or clothes. Could she? If there’s one person on earth who’s tough and resourceful enough to do that after what we did to her, it’s Harper. And she’ll be out for revenge. So, if she’s alive, why hasn’t she called the cops? And if she’s dead, why can’t I find her body?

[jazzythursday]

Hiiii, Jazzy! For the ask game: 🍓 🥑 🔪 🌿 🪲 (hehe sorry djsakgjkdg <3)

Hi Sparrow!!

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

I’m a long time fanfic reader, but I didn’t start really writing anything until 2021. I think, probably, because of the pandemic and needing some kind of outlet for creating things (and also because the Miraculous Ladybug plotlines were haunting my dreams, rattling their chains around in my brain until I finally caved and wrote some actual communication/emotional resolution for the characters that I wasn't getting from the show)

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

You and @waterloou lol

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Bahaha there are SO many, because I frequently have to look things up to write all the fun little facts Wylan has in his head. But I’m not sure researching poisons and how to build bombs/fireworks is all that weird, to be honest.

I’m going to go with the time I was writing a Good Omens fic, and I used google street view to virtually walk from the Ritz to around where Aziraphale’s bookshop would be in soho, so I could know exactly what it looked like and if/when they would likely pass by St. James’s park on the way, and what named streets would be on that route. (I’m not even sure that’s that weird. Maybe I need to be weirder...)

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

I do generally believe in the whole “not forcing it and take breaks if you need to” thing usually, but as for advice:

Consume some type of media you really like. Movie, show, book, an old favorite fic, anything that inspires you. I also like going back to the source material for things like fic because it gives me ideas or gets me into the right mental place to write the characters, and I like reading my own fics to brush up on my own interpretations/style.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

Oh...did you say 50? becuase I slipped and wrote 283...

(from Jesper's pov of the bookshop scene in ch 1 of Everyday)

At some point he loses Wylan to an art book he seems keen on and quietly drifts away with, leaving Jesper to talk to the enthusiastic bookeep on his own.

Jesper’s arms are getting progressively heavier with book recommendations, and the bookkeeper is somehow still holding at least twice as many. He doesn’t understand where they're even coming from at this rate, because more just seem to, to appear each time he looks away. 

He thinks about Kaz and his sleight of hand, and wonders at the chance that the bastard of the Barrel has been giving magic lessons to Wijnstraat booksellers in his free time. 

He actually has read some of the books the man recommends, either because they were commonly popular in his parents house or on the frontier, or from his short stint in university.

Unfortunately, mentioning that prompts the bookeep to ask, “Ah, so you’re a student, then?”

“Er—” Jesper blanches, in such a pitifully uncomposed way that he’s sure he can just feel Kaz shaking his head in judgemental spirit. The bookeep raises one solitary eyebrow, and Jesper, for some reason—probably because he’s Jesper—keeps bloody talking. “Yea-up. Yeah,” he bobs his head in a jerky nod, “Students, at the university. Good ol’ U of K. Woo...” Jesper cheers. Actually cheers. 

Great fucking work Fahey, very believable.

The bookkeep raises his other eyebrow, but smiles kindly. “That must be exciting. What are you studying?”  “Business,” Jesper answers quickly, and makes a concerted effort to not let it sound like a question. 

His fingers twitch, longing to trace over the pearl handles of his revolvers, but they’re hidden deep under the folds of his coat, and—apparently—he’s a university student now. 

I'm probably (definitely) going to be late to my fist class today now, but I really don't regret it.

Thanks for the questions!! 💖

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Bro said Isagi is too plain /j LMAOO ok but I kinda see what you mean?? Like maybe it’s because he’s got the most normal background out of everyone that unless you’re super interested in him it’s kinda hard to find something build off….like everyone at least has something unique about their background that adds a little extra depth (like injuries, medical things, bullying, etc) but he kinda just had the model life besides losing his match LMAO

Stop that ego idea Lowk…..no ok but I’m gonna read through that and imagine his bug eyes staring at me and lose it LMAOO

Ok but when you first told me you didn’t really like the itoshis I was kinda flabbergasted because I was like wait….is this the same person who wrote cherry tree????? If you hadn’t said anything I would’ve assumed you were a Rin fan because of how well it was written LMAO I was already super excited seeing the 6k wc but now after everything else I’m like oh yeah that’s on the lower side for Mira LMAOOOOO

NO FR please fill in the lore holes…..don’t let this end like jjk……I need to know…..you know they really should just hire us as oracles like we know what’s good!!!

I recently got badgered into watching haikyuu and it’s SO CHILL compared to bllk HAHAHA still enjoyable though!!!! But bllk honestly kinda reminds me of the kuroko’s basketball with the battle like aspects of it so I’m sure the hype will keep increasing!!!

Putting my trust in kaneshiro because he usually cooks!!! I’m ngl I’m kinda sick of seeing Kaiser Isagi and Rin though SHOW THE OTHERS

And THANK YOU WHAT A GOD SEND but OMGGG ITS THIS ARTIST!!! I RECOGNIZE THIS STYLE!! Pause I’ll translate this im gonna do Left to Right Top to Bottom

Karasu in Hiori’s Body:

1 - The one with his finger pointing up

Karasu: “The hell are ya lookin at?! There’s nothin to see here idiots!”

Someone else who I assume is Hiori: “Hey you shouldn’t use your middle finger…”

K: “HAH! IF YA LOOKED CLOSELY YOUD SEE IM USING MY INDEX FINGER!!! YOU SHOULD DO THINGS WITH MORE THOUGHT!!”

H: IM BEGGING YOU STOP WITH THAT FACE!!! YOURE DAMAGING MY IMAGE!!”

2 - the hair scene: He’s arranging his hair with a bunch of wax just like usual

3 - face pulling taunt image: Karasu is unsatisfied with Hiori’s stiff facial muscles and small mouth

K: This idiot’s mouth is so small he’s like a baby chick

4- With Isagi: Hiori usually assists him so when Isagi had to face him in a strength/muscle battle his brain glitched.

K: As if I’d let you move around

Hiori’s thoughts: Karasu-kun’s pretty dexterous huh, he’s already moving around.

5- smirking:

The immeasurable damage (to the heart) of a rare scene is very healing

K: As usual, when you fight on your own your feet get stuck. So mid.

H: ISAGI!! STAY COOL! THATS KARASU IN MY BODY!! I WOULD NEVER SAY THAT!! BREATHE ISAGI BREATHE!!

Hiori in Karasus body:

1- kicking: Even with a different physique, his dexterity allows him to continue playing without any problems. His only thoughts are “His legs are pretty long…I wonder if they’d break”

2- hair down:

Hiori, who doesn’t lift a finger to adjust his hair.

H: Does anyone have clippers or scissors? This hairs gettin in the way

K: Wait a damn minute ya dunce!!!

3- smiling:

H: Hahaha yer so dumb, what are ya even doing?

K: OTOYA’S FOAMIN AT THE MOUTH??!!!

4- With Otoya:

H: I couldn’t pass anywhere but there….sorry.

Text: A toxic looking face vs a sincere apology and behavior of someone who tries to compromise with others

Otoya: “…………..ah……..yeah……….its fine…..”

Everytime he says “I” (in a less aggressive tone) Otoya does a double take

Someone: Otoya’s got a hell of a lot of goosebumps!! And that face of rejection is insane!!!

- Karasu anon

i think a combo of that + him being too nice off field makes him a bit difficult for me in the same way yuki is but whereas yuki at least has medical trauma isagi is just chilling 😭 idk maybe one day i’ll be struck w inspiration for him 😰 but yeah out of everyone in bllk who i’ve written for i’d say he’s been the hardest character for me so far!!

NAH BECAUSE IT’S LOWKEY FIRE I CAN’T LIE…maybe young ego when he got enough sleep was fine af 🤔 imagine we get his backstory and he’s the most gorgeous man ever who literally puts yukimiya to shame HAHAHA that would crack me up…ego would be the ultimate side character to write about though because honestly i don’t even think there IS an ego nation 😭 there would be two readers fr (you and me)

LMAOO omg not the undercover itoshi non-fan 😭 pls i actually did start bllk for rin so i must give my king credit but he was a gateway drug to nagi and karasu fr…the day people stick more to his canon than fanon personality is the day i’ll wear my rin stan badge w pride ‼️ and YEAH i always forget that 6k is actually quite a lot of words…like people will post that they got carried away on a one shot and for them that’s like 1-3k words but for me getting carried away on a one shot atp means 15k+ 😩 anything between 5-10k is the normal range and anything less than 5k is quick and short!! but i’m also a wordy gal so 😰

i think i watched one ep of hq in 2020 and just couldn’t get into it!! i’ve heard good things abt it so no hate just wasn’t quite the show for me. i’ve also heard knb is good!! it’s another one i haven’t watched…tbh i’ve watched a very random assortment of animes 😭 but not that many unfortunately i’m not very good abt sitting down and watching tv it’s very rare for me to start a new show (one of my mutuals on here had to convince me to start bllk because otherwise i wouldn’t have…all because of a rin fanart i reblogged 😩)

I’M BORED OF THEM TOO maybe because none of them are my favs…i trust kaneshiro though all of the other matches have been super fun to read all at once so i’m sure it’ll be the same for bm vs pxg!!

MY TRANSLATING GOAT 😭🙏🏻 i hope it didn’t seem like i was trying to get you to do that or anything HAHA i just didn’t know if the caption was smth freaky or not…like pls don’t think i’m crazy i promise i have no idea what it says 👹

[ermora]

Ardyn x Neko Reader

Back again with a random idea of Ardyn being with a neko reader. A bit of a master pet dynamic (just a hint) I guess, anyways hope you enjoy and I’m sorry about Ardyn being OOC.

_______________________________________________

You happily walked around your apartment with your ears and tail out as you cleaned your space, feeling relieved that you got the day off from work. The past week has been stressful and having to hide your ears and tail under different articles of clothing and hats is difficult over long periods of time. You knew you could probably have them showing but neko’s such as yourself were extremely rare in Eos and most times people took advantage of a neko by making them a prized possession of sorts to show off. It reminds you of a rich person showing off their latest accessory or gadget. Your ear twitched slightly as you could hear someone moving through the apartment hallways outside of your door again as it had been happening all morning. You shook your head and the bell attached to the collar around your neck jingles a little bit, you hated hearing all of the little noises but there wasn’t much you could do until your lease was up and you could find a new place to live. It wouldn’t be much longer now either, which was nice, as your one neko friend was willing to let you crash with her right after your lease was up. She was actually coming over today to talk to you about it a little bit more and it won’t be long before she shows up. As if on cue, there was a knock on your door and you put your stuff down before you happily made your way over to the door and opened it up, your stomach dropped as it wasn’t your friend at the door bit your boss, Ardyn Izunia. He seemed a little stunned as he took in your appearance and you bit your lower lip, what the hell is he doing here?

“What brings you here Chancellor?” you asked in an uneasy tone.

“I was coming by to see if you had accidentally put some of my papers into your bag as I happen to be missing some important papers after you left yesterday” Ardyn replied as he looked at your (h/c) ears and tail. You hesitated briefly, wondering why he wouldn’t try to text you instead of just showing up as he now sees you for what you truly are.

“I can check… why don’t you come inside though as I don’t need someone else to see me or wonder why you’re here” you suggested as you let Ardyn into your apartment and closed the door behind him. You quickly went off to your bedroom and grabbed your work bag before returning to your living room and going through your bag in front of Ardyn.

“This is a rather modest place for a neko to have” Ardyn noted as he looked around your apartment, you said nothing back as you found some important looking papers in your bag. You felt your cheeks turn red as you pulled them out and handed them over to Ardyn.

“Here you are Chancellor and I’m sorry about accidentally taking them, my brain must have been in Friday mode when I went to leave” you apologized, Ardyn gently took the papers and gave you a smile.

“It’s quite alright (y/n) I think we’ve all done something silly on our Friday’s, besides, this was worth the trip as I’ve not seen a neko in quite awhile” Ardyn noted as he purposefully tapped your collars bell, making in ring a little bit.

“Yes, well I ask that you please keep this to yourself as I believe the empire would use me as an accessory to show off or some sort of pet” you stated.

“I won’t say a thing but there is something I want in return then… a trade of sorts” Ardyn said as he put the papers down, you swallowed nervously. You could say no but at the same time you need the job you have and you want to keep a low profile, you sighed as the answer was obvious.

“Very well, what do you want?” you asked, Ardyn smiled.

 

“Whenever you and I are alone I want you to look just like this, tail and ears showing with that adorable collar around your neck and in return, I’ll keep your little secret, do you agree my little kitten?” Ardyn asked as he stroked your right cheek with the back of his left hand. His touch sent an odd sensation through your body that was one you loved but hated because it was gentle and yet dominating.

“There’s more to this than your saying Chancellor” you replied, Ardyn chuckled.

“You’re as observant as ever… yes, I do have another agenda but I promise that your secret would not be revealed” Ardyn admitted, your (e/c) eyes met his golden ones.

“You have to tell me what it is or I won’t agree to your deal” you stated, Ardyn's left hand went to your collar and he put his index finger under it and pulled at it a little bit.

“You will be mine my little kitten and will do what I ask without question” Ardyn said in a rather quiet tone. You felt a rock in your stomach  of course he was going to use you as having a neko makes anyone look good.

 

“You do realize that I’m heavily debating as to whether or not this is a good idea or not, correct?” you asked, Ardyn took a step closer to you and without warning he leaned into your right ear.

“Ah, but you do realize that your choices are limited and that at any point this could backfire on you… make the smart choice kitten or I’ll be forced to do something you may not appreciate” Ardyn whispered with a hint of a threatening tone in his voice. Your ear twitched as his hot breath in your ear sent a jolt through your system, your ears were always quite sensitive and you loved it when someone blew on your ears for some odd reason.

“Ch-chancellor, please don’t do that” you breathed in shock, Ardyn chuckled again.

“Please, just call me Ardyn my little kitten and accept my proposal” Ardyn stated as he moved down to your neck, your eyes widened as you realized that he was going to mark you to make you his pet.

“Ardyn, you can’t just…” you trailed off, unable to find the right words.

“Oh but I can and if you’d like to keep your secret safe, I suggest you accept” Ardyn said, you sighed and felt tears in your eyes.

“Fine, you win” you reluctantly agreed, Ardyn smiled and pulled away from your neck, you looked at him in confusion as he let go of your collar.

“Good, I shall see you in my office in a few days and please… if it’s just us, call me Ardyn” Ardyn stated, you nodded and he left your apartment. You stood there in shock, he calls you little kitten and did all that, just to never make you his pet. Was that his intention or is he planning something else? You shook your head to clear your thoughts, it’s no use worrying about it at this point as you’ve got a friend coming over soon.

2 Months later

You entered Ardyn’s office with some papers and removed your hat to show your ears while pulling your tail out of your pants and taking off your turtleneck sweater to show your collar. Ardyn smiled as you approached him and your tail twitched nervously, you’ve been doing this for two months now and you’re finding that Ardyn is quite charming for a human. He does, however, rub you the wrong way by calling you ‘little kitten’ whenever it’s just the two of you.

“Here’s the papers from Ravus you requested Ardyn” you noted as you put the papers in your hand onto the desk.

“Thank you my little kitten, may I please get you to file these away for me?” Ardyn asked as he patted a stack of papers on his desk.

“Of course you can” you replied as you grabbed the stack, went over to the cabinet behind Ardyn and began to file the papers away, as you did so though Ardyn’s hands touched your tail and you jolted as you looked at him and he looked amused.

“Oh my, I didn’t mean to startle you little kitten, I was simply curious as to how soft your tail was” Ardyn said in a not so innocent tone.

“A neko’s ears are far softer than their tail and we typically hate our tails being touched” you explained as you moved your tail away from his hands, he lifted as eyebrow and stood up.

“Are they now? I must test this myself” Ardyn stated as he lifted his hands and gently rubbed your ears, it felt… good as he rubbed your ears and you slowly began to fall into a state where you felt, safe.

“Ardyn… that feels nice” you mumbled in a calm, content tone.

“I know my little kitten, I’m not nearly as uneducated about neko’s as you seem to think” Ardyn quietly said as he leaned forward and breathed into your right ear. You let out a small gasp as the urge to want him as your master began to rise, he didn’t look it but he was extremely gentle with you and has kept your secret.

“Master… please let me be your pet” you breathed without a second thought.

“Oh my little kitten, you’ve been my pet for quite awhile now” Ardyn mumbled as he went down to your neck and gently bit it. You did nothing as he made you his pet and as he released you and stopped touching your ears, your mind began to clear up. A sense of dread followed as you realized that your instincts had betrayed you and you were now Ardyn’s pet and he was your master.

“I… you…” you faltered in your sentence as Ardyn grabbed your collar and sat down in his office chair.

“Your master is demanding that you come sit on his lap” Ardyn demanded, you did as he asked and without missing a beat, Ardyn pulled your collar close to him and your lips met. A jolt went through your system now as you realized that he wanted this the whole time, a master and pet relationship where you would be his and only his. You’d be unable to say no now as he had marked you and you were his pet, his play toy, his… little kitten. Ardyn broke off the kiss and released your collar, the belly letting out a soft jingle as his fingers gently brushed it.

“What do you plan to do now?” you asked, Ardyn grinned at you.

“You’ll find out soon my little kitten and I’m certain you’ll enjoy it” he replied, you felt uneasy but nodded, knowing that you were now at Ardyn’s mercy as his pet. You could only hope that with him as your master that you’d be safe as that’s all you wanted at this point, safety and a nice quiet life with your master.

[xinganhao]

🎸 vernon dates rockstar!reader.

catch you when i can series masterlist ★ prompt: vernon x rockstar!reader who’s a foreigner in an international rock band c/o anon 📼

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, pet names, fluff, can be read not in order + headcanons under the cut. ✉︎ anon are u kidding meee. vernon dating a rockstar?!?! my bread & butter (｡･`ω´･)ﾉ hope this is to your liking!

🎸 headcanons .ᐟ

— prologue.

vernon was never really a big believer in long-distance relationships. or relationships in general, if he's being honest. they take a lot of work, a lot of energy, a lot of effort. his life is already hectic as it is. why rope somebody in to the life of dating an idol? why be with someone if he can't give them his 100%?

it makes sense, then, that when vernon does find someone, it's someone who runs similar circles. someone who knows what it's like to constantly be on the road, to be in the public eye more often than not.

vernon has been a casual listener of your band for a while now. it's the type of sound that fits right in to his playlists. and, okay, fine. he thinks you're attractive. sue him. but he swears he's there for the music— most of the time. there is a part of him that's there for the performance videos of you shredding your guitar, or the ones where you're screaming in to the microphone.

alright. vernon concedes: he may have a little crush on you.

so you can imagine vernon's surprise when he finds out the two of you are in the same line-up for some american music festival. it's a rare thing, for vernon to ask his managers for anything specific, but he absolutely cannot pass this chance up. he tries to be discreet about it, too. "i really like this band," he sheepishly admits to his manager. "do you think— i don't know, i could just say 'hi' to them or something?"

that's how you and vernon meet. on the sidelines of a music festival, where he's so cool about the whole thing. he's more on the soft-spoken side as he tells you that he thinks you're a great performer and that he can't wait to see you live. you'll think he's cute, and you'll thank him for going out of his way tell you personally.

you'll take a photo together. he'll give you a signed copy of the group's latest album, and you promise to give it a listen. (prior to vernon, you might have not really known too much about k-pop. that's something the two of you briefly discuss— the differences in your industries.) but, as he starts to bid goodbye, you can't resist.

"tell me," you say, small smile in place. "how would a k-pop idol react to having a rockstar slide in to their dm's?"

vernon's brain short-circuits. your words steal every single thought out of his head, and he's reminded, yet again, of small cultural differences. how much more forward americans can be when they want to. he's about to respond when his manager clears their throat, and vernon remembers his place. he flounders through some lame response.

you apologize for putting vernon on the spot, feeling a bit bad yourself. you hadn't wanted to get him in trouble. there's a little more chit-chat, and then— "quick," vernon breathes while his manager's distracted with a phone call. "got a pen on you?"

he scribbles his phone number on the corner of the album he'd just given you. "dm's don't always work for idols. but this might," vernon will say with a smirk that's not quite a smirk, and oh. you know this is going to be fun.

it takes a while for vernon and you to agree that a relationship is something you want to attempt. it will happen after months of back-and-forth via text, months of 'will they? won't they?' flirtations. it's going to be long distance in more ways than one. there's thousands of kilometers between you, a thirteen hour time difference, opposite ends of the entertainment industry.

you two agree to give it a shot anyway, because what's there to lose? no hard feelings if it doesn't work out. that's your constant refrain. you'll try. you'll do your best. and if things fall apart— well, that's just how it is.

— the texts.

except vernon finds it increasingly difficult, as times go on, to imagine a life without you. it's hard to do long distance. of course it's hard. he just thought it'd be harder, but surprisingly, it isn't.

'catch ya when i can' becomes something exchanged as often as 'i love you'. the windows of time wherein the two of you can actually talk— especially when you're both busy— are small, and so it's a bit of a game. vernon races against his busy schedule to 'catch' you, and it always feels like the biggest win in the world. even if it's just a couple of minutes where the two of you are both online, where the texts don't have hours in between each of them? he'll take 'em.

facetime can be a bit of a luxury but it's something the two of you try to do at least thrice a week. a lot of it is quiet snapshots of your daily lives. vernon eats dinner as you go through your morning routine. you get ready for bed as he tells you his plans for the day. it's the epitome of long-distance, how he says 'good morning' and you respond with 'good night.'

there's the fact that it's secret, too. no one can know that the two of you are dating. occasionally, you're linked to other people in the business. it's a grace that vernon is so secure in your relationship that he doesn't really mind. he trusts you, after all, and sees no need to blow things out of proportion. every so often, he'll feel a twinge of envy. but he knows that it's him that you'll text at the end of every day, so it's okay. that makes it okay.

that's why vernon compensates as best as he can. there's a lot of red-eye flights, from incheon to jfk and vice versa. it's easier for you to be the one to come visit him, since your fans don't keep track of you the same way that k-pop fans do. when vernon does make the flights abroad, though, he's always careful to cover up his tracks. to come up with some story of spending time abroad to visit family, to work on 'projects' he never publicly reveals.

vernon goes to your shows when he can. mostly, he watches from side stage so he's away from the view of the public. he likes it that way, really— likes being the person you make a beeline for once you've taken your in-ears out. he'll laugh as you bear hug him. he'll keep an arm around your shoulders as he assures you that you did well. "you were so hot up there," he'll tease you. "how am i supposed to function now, huh?"

a cute little thing that vernon and you establish about midway in to your relationship is a 'couple' instagram account, except it's private and it's just for the two of you to see. @11203km (referencing the distance between you two) is a way for you to dump your thoughts/every day lives without flooding your text thread. when it's 🎸 posting, then maybe it's a carousel of your latest practice sessions or snaps of your recent attempts at cooking. when it's 🐻‍❄️'s posts, it's likely vernon's tiktok outtakes or his misadventures with the rest of the boys.

vernon had always thought that being in a relationship entailed giving your 100% all of the time. being with you has taught him otherwise. if some days, all he can give is 40%, then he can count on you to put in the rest of the 60%. the same goes for you: if you have weeks where all you can put in is 30%, then he'll step up with 70%. any relationship is work, but if it's you, then vernon is convinced that it isn't hard work. not at all.

— extra!

chwebacca 🤟 think i can join ur band now? ㅋㅋㅋ

📷 fansite photos from @Flechazo_0218.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

i just wanna be yours | k. bakugou 

✩ tags ; pwp, fluff and smut, minor hurt/comfort, f2l, pro-hero bkg and reader, established relationship, fingering, oral (f!recieving), riding, dirty talk (soo much lol), overstimulation / multiple orgasms 18+ mdni

✩ wc ; 6.4k

✩ a/n ; happy birthday to the love of my life who has subsquently rotted my brain for so long now. love u king.

✩ synopsis ; bakugou drops by your place and the two of you resolve some long standing tension in your kinda sorta new relationship

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Katsuki,” 

“It hasn’t been shit but you lately,”

On your bedside table is a fresh bouquet of flowers, tended to and soaking up sugar water right against your windowsill. Underneath the glass vase is a note, flattened out under the weight but still folded with hand-writing that looks like chicken scratch. 

romance aint dead or whatever the fuck. see you soon - k. 

You know it’s there because you put it there, and when you wake up from a nap on Saturday afternoon - it’s the first thing you think of. There’s a heavy rain drumming on the roof of your apartment that sets a backdrop to the silent evening. You check the time, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s nearly 7pm, almost 8. Your stomach rumbles and your heart thumps with a tender melancholy. 

You’re practically slumped forward as you swipe your phone open. You force yourself to scroll aimlessly through your socials first. Twitter, Instagram, Tik-Tok. After some mind-numbing scrolling, your fingers tapping along hearts and  re-tweeting stuff that you find amusing, you gain courage to check what you’ve wanted to check the whole time. 

You tap your text messages and there’s two new ones from your lover. Your face spreads into a smile as you touch the messages. 

(sent 5:45) Out on a mission.

(sent 5:47) See you later. Don’t be fucking stupid. 

That makes you laugh, a real loud laugh. You know what he’s trying to say at least. He’s still not good at telling you to take care. You think it’s a result of spending so many years as friends. That awkwardness in showing real affection and real vulnerability. Even still, you don’t hate it. It mostly feels like a welcome transition, another milestone in your many years together. 

(sent 7:02) I’m awake. I took a nap and I’m gonna start dinner. Text me when you’re home. Miss you <3

You wonder if the last sentiment will be too much, but decide it doesn’t matter. Swinging your heavy limbs over the edge of the mattress, you slip your feet into some house slippers. Pro-Hero Dynamight merch no less. 

Yawning, you rub your eyes from sleep and stumble into the bathroom. You play something on your phone to pass the time as you freshen up. A quick lather and rinse with face wash, brush your teeth, and make sure your hair is neat and back. After that, you put on an old pair of PJ pants and a shirt two sizes too big on you. 

Once you feel clicked into your consciousness, you pocket your phone and think about what you have in the fridge. A box of silken tofu unopen, chili crisp, green onions, eggs. Maybe you have something in the freezer? 

You only ever make it into your living room before a cumbersome knock startles you out of your haze. You can’t imagine who’d be here at this hour. 

With hesitance, you rest your hand on the doorknob. 

“Who is it?” 

“Who the fuck d’ya think?” 

Your hand moves before you can reply, undoing the lock before twisting the door open. Bakugou stands in front of you, ragged and a little wet from the rain. You blink a few times, mouth agape. 

“Why’re you here right now?” You say, ushering him inside to shield him from the pouring rain. He’s soaked to the bone. Mask pulled over his forehead, with most of his hero gear still sitting on his body. He stands in the doorway as you click the door shut behind him. Without any words exchanged - you hurry off to grab him a towel. 

“Wanted to make sure you weren’t dead,” He replies. Part of you itches to revert back to just handing it to him, letting him dry himself off in your doorway like he has tens of times before. 

But with trembling hands, you wrap the towel around his head and press. Drying him off is an easier task than you thought it’d be - even if your heart is twisting funnily in your chest. You suddenly feel nervous as you pull the towel back enough to see his face. His eyes are piercing like always, smeared liner around them accentuating the stark white and red. He looks at you hard, long, wordless. 

You continue drying him off, your hands over his ears and head with the towel as a barrier. You hesitate when you get down to his neck, suddenly conscious of his body and how the material of his costume leaves so little to the imagination. You trek forward feeling both stupid and brave. Bakugou clears his throat.

“I was asleep,” You say, cutting through the tension to the best of your ability. 

“That why you look like shit?” 

Your eyes widen at the jab, then all at once, you’re laughing. You hit his chest, and let it linger. 

“Dickhead,” 

“Only the best,” He snips. 

And it’s a weird, roundabout way to flirt. You know it is, and so does he. Maybe you’re just feeling emboldened by the fact he showed up. Despite himself, he’s here. You take a step forward, wrapping the towel around his neck and dragging him to you. 

When you kiss, something inside of you feels like it’s melting. Bakugou lets his hand rest on your waist when he kisses you. He grabs it tight the deeper you go, a soft little moan leaving his mouth when you let out a whine. It’s really not like you, and it’s not like him either. 

But it makes sense like this, and only like this.

 You fold under the intensity of his lips. The scorching kiss that leaves a tingle in your spine, you pull back and curl your fist on his chest. When you pull away from him, he looks a little mad. A growl leaves his mouth as he pulls you back in. 

And for a second, you get pulled into it. You giggle and let him bite your lower lip with his teeth before you pull away more seriously. 

“I have to make dinner,” You say through a breath. He’s practically burning up, steaming at the sudden wait. You give him an apologetic look. You can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. 

He just gives you another deep tongue kiss before nearly pushing you off. Running a hand through his hair, he gives you a quick once over then takes a deep breath. 

“Asshole,” He says. It’s all he can come up with. You flush. 

“Come eat with me. Your clothes are in the bathroom,” 

“What’re you going to make?” 

You haven’t really decided. 

“Something spicy,” You say instead. He gives you hum and then disappears down your hallway, the bathroom door shutting behind him. 

You hear a shower run and laugh under your breath as you actually make it into the kitchen. You can throw something together, a curry works. You pull a clean cutting board and knife and then simper around for ingredients. 

Left-over chicken thighs, some mushrooms, onions, garlic, and a curry roux cube. You have frozen spinach in your freezer, so you take that out. Cutting and prepping the veggies entrances you and soon enough, you lose yourself to the monotonous sound of chopping and peeling. Discarding scraps in between as you heat oil and add everything as it comes. It doesn’t take long. You’ll throw everything together and eventually let it hang out while the rice cooks. 

Bakugou returns to you when you’ve finished chopping up all the veggies. You hear him before you look, wearing slippers he keeps at your place. They have little lions on the feet, and you’re always surprised he doesn’t complain about wearing them. 

His breath is warm as he lingers over you in the kitchen. 

“Smells good,” 

“Nothing special. Just curry,” 

“Better than eating take-out,” He bites, a call out to your poor diet as of late. You roll your eyes a little at the jab, but it dies as soon as his hands touch your waist. It’s a little, hesitant touch. His chin resting on your shoulder.

“This..?” He says, so softly you almost miss it. Like if he says it too loud, too open - everything will crumble to pieces. You shiver. 

“Mhm,”

And then he gets closer, a back-hug. You don’t mind when his arm hesitantly wraps around your middle. His fingers ghosting over the skin of your stomach, his cheek slightly pressing into your neck. He breathes, and you feel it all over your body like a spark of electricity. Little flickers of it igniting a heat so deep into your body you aren’t sure where it starts and where it ends. 

You stir the pot for too long. If you move, so will he.

The onions are golden when they aren’t supposed to be, but you still hesitate to step away. 

When you do, he does - but not too far. A breath of relief passes your lungs. You load the veggies, and the chicken into the pot. 

“Can you get me the chicken stock from the fridge? In the plastic thing,”

Bakugou opens the fridge, pauses, and then brings it to you. He opens it without you asking, the tricky lid on the countertop. You tuck the curry cube into all the bits, then pour the cold stock over everything. The roux cube dissolves into the water, and you season with salt and pepper. Then the lid goes on, and the boil rolls off to a gentle simmer as you turn the gas low. 

When it’s over, there’s silence. You’re nervous to turn around, what you’ll see. 

When you work up the nerve, Bakugou is staring at you. Your breath hitches. 

“C’mere,” He rasps.

 You step forward and he’s got a hand on your shoulder, the other on your hips. He cradles your neck, thick fingers at the nape. It’s a bold move, especially from him. But you don’t shy away from him. 

“I uhm… I missed you,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You say, letting your hands on his arms

He leans forward. It’s a little slower, chaste, but wanting. Longing. Deeply imbued in the gesture. 

He presses forward to yours with an uneven grunt. Your noses brush, as his hold on you, gets tighter and tighter. You stare at him, blinking. His eyes are screwed tight for a while, but when he opens them they’re filled to the brim with fire. You know it well, have seen it hundreds of times on the field before but now it’s directed you in a way it’s never been. 

A flaming arrow into your wooden heart, your hands reach around. You grab his shoulders, his muscles, and look. 

“You’re gonna drive me fuckin’ crazy,” He whispers, soft and tender. Your brows raise

“I didn’t do anything,” You say back, a protest. 

“Don’t need to,” 

“I missed you,” You say again, a little firmer. 

“Don’t do this to me,” He says, voice filled to the brim with longing. You frown. 

“But I didn’t -” 

“You did. You did by being like this and kissing me at the fucking door. You’re a fucking tease,” 

“I’m not anything, you dick. I just… I’m nervous.” 

“You think I’m not?” 

“I didn’t say that,” 

“You really know how to push my buttons,” 

You stop then, holding him. The two of you just holding each other, in the dim lights of your kitchen. Your hands on his body and his on yours, looking. You study his expression, the part of his lips, and the crease in his brow. It’s been like this for the last couple of weeks. Bakugou suddenly appears at your place and then gets frustrated with something. 

You’re normally so good about figuring out his moods without him having to tell you. Lately, being together seems to hinder any of your previous rationale. You feel like you’re learning him all over again, like he’s the same but he isn’t. Normally, you would just know. Or if you didn’t it, he’d work up the nerve to tell you. 

But lately, it’s like this. Neither of you is sure what to do or which steps you’re allowed to take. You glance down at his lips then look into his eyes. Then you ask. 

“What is it?” You say soft, pressing your lips to his before pulling back “What do you want?” 

There’s a passing look. A familiarity stitched into the way he looks at you, has looked at you forever. It’s still longing, for some reason.

“How long have we known each other?” 

“8 years, give or take,”

You can feel his arm support your back. His fingers are gentle as they brush over the nape of your neck, over the peach fuzz. 

“Every time we act fucking.. lovey-dovey or whatever, I feel like I’m losing my mind,” ― He takes a deep breath, leaning into you. His nose pressed to your temple ― “It doesn’t feel like it’s been 8 years. Feels like I just opened something that I can’t close again,” 

“Like a dam breaking?” 

“Somethin’ like that, yeah. It’s fucked,” 

“Do you hate it?” 

He kisses your temple. 

“Nah,” 

“Then why do you seem so…I dunno, frustrated? I don’t like seeing you upset,” 

“It’s not like I’m upset. But I’m getting greedy with you, with everything,” 

“That’s kinda just how you are,” You say, amused. A tender smile on your face as you cup his cheeks, thumb smoothing underneath his eyes “You want something and you make it yours. You take and take and take,” 

“You’re not fucking… you’re not something to be taken, alright? It’s not that easy,” 

“I’m not a delicate little flower, baby. We work on the field together, you know how it is. I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” ― You say, leaning forward. Your noses brush ― “But I’m not gonna run away. Maybe I like giving to you. Maybe I want you to take,” 

He swallows, then gives you a feral grin. 

“So you are being a tease,” 

“Oh, shut up.” You snort.

You like seeing him smile, as mild as it is. It’s not something you get to see often, but when you do - it makes your heart flutter. You kiss him that time, smiling and laughing into it. 

“We’re both bad at this but we’re in it together,” 

“Whatever,” 

“Whatever,” You mock. He clicks his teeth at you. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Katsuki,” 

“It hasn’t been shit but you lately,”

“What about me?” 

“Fucking everything,” ― He says through a laugh, hands going lower ― “Every single thing I learned to suppress that you keep reminding me of. Everything. All of you,”

“What do you want?” 

“Everything,” He says again, a little harder. A little more heat attached. “All of you,” 

You catch wind of something you don’t think you’re supposed to see. The room starts to simmer. A gentle warmh licking at your insides, the soft embers of fire aching to be fed. You let your eyes flicker to his mouth, pink tongue sliding over his bottom lip. 

“Is it… do you want to go all the way with me?” 

“We can’t go back from that,” He rasps, sharply. Instantly. A way out in case things go sour. It’s hesitant, almost desperate. His voice, always so full of composure when he speaks, suddenly gone unsteady like a wave. 

“Who says I want to go back?” 

“You’re killing me,” 

“I’ve liked you back, all the same as before. Chased after you. Worked to be by your side in the same way you did for me. You’re the common denominator,” 

“Fuck,” 

“I don’t go into something planning on backing out,” 

“We… I can’t go back after this. Whatever fail-safe I’ve got on my feelings is going to go out the fucking window and you’re gonna drive me crazy for the rest of my life,” 

“Don’t ever leave me alone,” 

He laughs hard. 

“Not in my wildest fucking dreams,” 

You let yourself fall into a kiss. It’s easy. Your hands settle at his neck, and he’s still holding you the same as before. It’s just a kiss, a start to something more but it never stops feeling good. His lips are nice, soft, full. His tongue is curious, licking into your mouth. His teeth are sharp, digging into yours before he pulls away, letting your lip follow. 

And his hands, like him, are greedy. Calloused, devious as they slide down your back and come around your ass with a harsh grip. You can feel yourself being spread apart, the mild stretch that makes your stomach feel like it’s flipping. Nothing about this is easy. 

But you don’t expect that from him, so you kiss back. Your hands tangle in his hair and tug at the root and you think the two of you will fuck just how you fight. When the thought passes your mind, you moan loud into his mouth and he freezes. When he pulls away, a string of spit follows where your lips were locked. 

“Turn the stove off,” ― His voice is so deep you can feel it in your ribs, in your whole body ― “Or it’ll be burned by the time I’m done with you,” 

The gas turns off with a sudden flick. Your body feels almost numb from want. Bakugou takes your hand, and you follow him into your bedroom.

__ 

Wholly familiar with the sound, sight, and feeling of shattered glass - the feeling of falling into bed with Bakugou feels an awful like crashing through a building. 

You feel him before you get a chance to look him in the eyes, your back hitting your unmade mattress. Sheets and blankets get kicked to the floor, you fall with a soft thump into the pillows. Bakugou crawls on top of you, his knees between your spread legs and arms on either side of your head. His shadow swallows you like an eclipse, a moon over blazing sunlight. You succumb quickly to his darkness. You kiss again, all over, again and again. 

Unsure of what to do, you reach for him with desperation. Fingers dancing over the muscles in his shoulders and his back - your palms glide over the nape of his neck until you’re dragging him down to you. So hot it burns, the taste of swapped spit, and the feeling of a swollen mouth. Memories of heated makeout sessions on your couch return to you with fervor, and for some reason make you want this all the more. 

Bakugou lets his hands do most of the speaking. For all the time you’d spend, out of reach from each other - you wonder if this kind of clinginess is bred from all the time apart. Why you can’t part for even a second, or why Bakugou’s hands speak a private little language. 

Languidly passing over your calves over your fuzzy PJs, suddenly steady sweeping over your hips, tender at the waist where you can feel every callous in his palms, and desperate above the navel. Anguishing need when he gropes your chest, fingers squeezing the fat of your tits just underneath you’re oversized t-shirt. Your mind feels like it’ll drip from your nose, but you’re enamored by how many ways there are to say i love you without ever saying a word. 

His thumb rubs the underneath side of your tits, then flick over the nipple until you’re moaning into his mouth. 

“Aah, ah,” 

You think back on moments spent in bed. You’ve never gone all the way before, but you’ve done plenty else. So Bakugou knows what he’s doing when his thumb rolls your nipples, knows how sensitive they are to his touch. It makes you flood between a dull ache growing between your legs. Your clit throbs, and your body yearns. 

You wonder how much time he’ll spend like this. You wonder how much will have passed. Bakugou never does anything half-assed, and you’re sure you’re included in that. The pinching feeling all over your skin makes you take in a lungful of air as you attempt to anchor yourself into reality. 

He pushes your shirt all the way up this time, breaking the kiss-off before adjusting himself. You wiggle around taking your shirt off, tossing it to the floor somewhere. When you’re naked, Bakugou drops down again - tongue smoothing over your neckline. He bites into you hard, and you cry out. The pleasure from it is unexpected, the way he takes from you leaves your mind spinning. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” 

“Yeah?” 

He grunts, laving over every inch of your skin. You feel like you’re being offered, eaten whole. Cool air on the warm patches of saliva as he licks down parts of your body you didn’t think you liked being touched. On the space between your tits and on them, kisses on your stomach. You don’t think to compare it to worship. 

Closer to fanaticism, if the look in his eyes is anything to go by. The difference hasn’t mattered until it has. Until just now, a single-minded way of working your body that makes you feel like you’re falling.

His fingers are comfortable in your waistband. He looks up at you this time, and you look down at him. You hold your own chest in some act of comfort, nodding. He takes off your pants and your panties with it - revealing you to the cool evening air. It’s too much for you to handle. Bakugou’s eyes are unapologetic in the inspection. His fingers smooth over the well-kept hair (which you only keep because he likes, so he says anyway) and you recognize it all over his face. 

Your clit is throbbing, almost painfully. Tender. But Bakugou merely spreads you apart until it’s exposed, the hard bundle of nerves unfree from his scrutiny. You don’t know why he stares at it for so long, shallow breathing like he can’t take in enough air to stay afloat. He leans his face in, and unexpectedly - pecks the hood with something akin to affection. 

He kisses everywhere, along your folds until he’s kissing your clit and then it occurs to you. It feels so much like how he kisses you, lips first, then tongue then greed. You let out a pathetic whine in the process. You want to clamp your thighs, push his face away from the most sensitive parts of you but you can’t. 

It hits you when his tongue laps at you, snaking around your clit before sucking it into his sweltering mouth. The heavy muscle expert in the pressure it needs ― you need to feel good. Your toes curl,  steady anticipation building. His arms wrap under your thighs and suddenly he’s dragging you down to bury his nose deeper until it disappears into your pussy. A wave of static flits through your whole body. You hiss, teeth clamped together and trembling. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You don’t know what to do with your hands, so they clamp into the sheets behind you. The fabric is taut in your grip as pleasure starts to tear through you like a torrent. A storm starting from your chest and ending between your legs - a natural disaster that threatens to tear you apart from each end. It signals with a shaky tremor inside, and your spine arches off the bedsheets in the shape of a crescent moon. 

You convulse in the blink of an eye and cum so hard you can’t see straight

“Oooh, oh fuck. K-Katsuki, fuck,”

You moan his name like an epithet for god. He lets you sink into him, his touches remaining until you physically have to pry yourself away from him, and even still he insists. Persisting in the gesture, he pulls away to let you breathe but doesn’t move away from your thighs. Labored breathing fills the white space in the room, and when you finally stop scurrying away, he buries himself snugly into your cunt. Licking again with little regard to what protests you might have above him. 

“You taste so fucking good. So goddamn sweet,” 

“Want more,” You say, soft. An urgency rips through you as your hands rake through his hair “Want you so fucking much,” 

Bakugou crawls up between you, a couple of kisses exchanged almost like a distraction. Before you understand what’s happening really, you feel Bakugo move. The weight of his body suddenly shifted. You turn on your side to accommodate him, his body slotted behind you. The position is oddly embarrassing, as Bakugou's hand is enough to fit around your torso.

“Hold your legs apart, baby,” 

The way his lips curl around the word baby makes your stomach turn. You lift your leg, holding it. You can feel Bakugou’s arms snaking around your middle, dipping below your belly button until the pads of his fingers nudge your clit. You shake, your head dropping back onto your shoulder. He tilts his head to kiss the shell of your ear, teeth at your earlobe.

“Gonna open you up and fuck you in every position under the sun,” ― He says with so much confidence is astounds you. You gasp at the sound of his voice ― “You’re gonna give it to me and I’m gonna take it from you,” 

“K-Kat…suki,” 

“And I’m gonna make you fucking cum. Gonna fuck you so good you can’t think,” 

“Fuck w-where ‘d you… fuck,” 

You feel his fingers press against your hole, fluttering at the intrusion. Bakugous fingers are thicker than they are long. Covered in calluses and cuts, blunt nails and all. They’re rough in a way that’s incredible. You’ve felt them before, more than once. With your leg up like this, they sink deeper into your hole. It’s lewd, the way his two fingers make his palm cup against your pussy. 

His fingers pump in and out of you, a wet shlick punctuated with each movement. It’s so wet and so tight. It feels funny. The tenderness from cumming makes your insides twitch. 

“You do this to me,” ― He says in between everything, a reminder ― “Seeing you fucking fall apart ‘cause of me. I’m so hard I can’t think about fucking anything other than you,”

You can only describe it as animalistic, like a cat in heat. Desperation A sinking, lingering desperation from something you don’t have a name for. You’ve never known Bakugou to talk much at all so every word feels like it’s piercing you. A clawing thing, digging into your chest. You want and want more than anything in the world. You’ve done plenty in your life. Kissing strangers and sex with exes in between. Life has touched you more than once. 

But because it’s Bakugou, it feels like you’ve just discovered every last one of your senses. What touch can really feel like, the potent smell of sex, the vision of the open window, the taste of desire, and the sound of Bakugou’s voice all working in tandem. Your heart pounds in your ears as his fingers fuck you open a little more, and it’s not enough to make you cum. But it’s enough to drive you fucking mad. 

It’s about all the time you’ve missed out, your body is signaling to you that there really is no coming back. You clench at the thought and Bakugou hisses behind you. You’ve never coveted something so much. 

Yet, you’re wiggling your hips back and fucking into Bakugou’s hands and moaning. Shaking and frantic for whatever makes you feel full. You want to be so full it makes your head swim. 

“Please. It’s enough, I swear - so please, please, please,” 

“You want my fucking dick?” 

“So bad, you don’t - you don’t get it. Need it,” 

In his capable hands and even in your delirium, you register Bakugou at his tipping point. You know he is because he curses on his breath, fingers suddenly pulling away. Your leg is still up. Swallowing saliva, you bite your lip trying to be patient. 

Bakugou pulls his sweats down in one motion and pulls you flush to his hips. You feel it behind you. Hard, heavy, and thick against your spine. You feel it against your ass before he slips underneath and rubs the head just along your clit. You never get over it - the way it curves upward. Pink tip and mostly pale, and long. 

It feels like a dream. Bakugous hands come underneath your knee, making sure your leg stays up. You reach a hand between your legs to help guide it in. With your lower lip tugged into your teeth, you hold your breath - guiding the tip inside of you with a quiet gasp. 

“Holy fuck,” 

“Nghh, shit,” 

The initial stretch makes your muscles clench. It’s so thick, the head leaving you with a dull soreness. Constricting and hot, there’s a wet noise as he pushes each inch inside. An agonizing swell, the raw feeling of skin against skin. You moan loud, gasping for air, and Bakugou humans. 

“I gotcha baby, just - shit, just breathe,” 

It’s hard to remember, so you take a big swallow of air in your lungs. It all gets pushed out when he fucks himself in. The tight stretch peaking with the slightest discomfort - yet no pain. He slides another arm under you, holding your stomach and grinding his hips so the head rubs against your insides. His other hand touches your clit. 

He starts slowly at first. Pulls his hips back before filling you again  - all at once. Each thrust is dizzying. Your walls are slick and scorching, throbbing at the way his dick drags through you once then a few more times. The pain gets gradually replaced with pleasure, a white-hot euphoria settling in your body. Whimpering, you reach back to grab him, to get him close as he fucks you. 

“You feel so fucking good,” 

You exhale shakily. Opening yourself up to him makes your mind feel hazy and desperate. The way you’re laying makes it hard for him to move. Forceful, narrow.

“If I keep fucking you like his, I’m gonna cum,” 

“It’s fine,” 

“The hell it is,” 

You don’t get a say in the matter before Bakugou’s handling you. You hardly understand how it happens, he’s so strong. In one fell swoop, he was you facing away from him - sitting on his cock. You fall forward, hands on his calves as he adjusts you. This position is so much deeper, right against your g-spot. A heatwave runs through you at the new feeling - how can something be so different and the same all at once? 

You can feel what he was talking about before. What greed he’s been shaking off. It feels so good to let him carve pieces of you out. 

“Wanna see you move on it,” He says through a hard grunt. He adjusts behind you, leaning up against some pillows. Your knees are on the bed bent. You can feel him all the way in your stomach, even the littlest movements feel incredible. “Grind on it. Make yourself feel good,” 

You end up leaning almost all the way forward, to make it easier on yourself. Cheek pressed into the mattress - your thoughts slip as the position allows you to take every inch. Your arm resting over your head, the other nestled under the weight of your body - playing with your clit. A soft whine leaves you when Bakugou’s hand lands on your ass, one harsh smack that makes you twitch. You hear him groan. 

“Fuck, what a view,” He practically growls. His voice is thick with lust, hands kneading the flesh rough “Look so damn good, fuck  - look how you move on it,”  

He wants you, and you can feel that. That alone is enough to make you give, like breaking under the weight of his adoration. 

You feel lost hearing the praise. Your whole body forward as you move back and forth - a grinding motion that gives you the most perfect friction. Bakugou is encouraging but entranced - hands doing little other than guiding your hips again. You can feel him watching you more than anything. The prying gaze you’ve gotten used to suddenly focused on you, and the way you bounce on his cock. You can feel the mess you’re making on his cock, arousal displaced by motion.

Even when you get used to the stretch, there’s something about the way it penetrates you that never stops feeling unfamiliar. It’s addicting, the natural rhythm. The in-out-in-out that rubs against your inside, your g-spots. You feel so intoxicated, suspended in a dull pleasure that builds and builds but never ceases. Never comes to an appropriate stop, a pauses but just keeps fucking going. 

Bakugou is like kerosene in your veins. With every gesture, his voice rumbles through his chest, hot grunts, and moans that make you want to move faster. He’s always so vocal and it makes you feel so good. All your thoughts turn off as you listen to your instinct. Moving back against him becomes as natural as breathing. 

“Wanna see you cum all over it, make my dick pretty baby,” 

“K-Katsuki,” 

You can practically hear the grin as his hands settle on your middle. 

“Whose dick are you riding?” 

“F-fuck, yours,” 

“And what’s my name, baby?” 

You can feel him guide you, moving you into going faster. You follow the rhythm he sets, harder and faster and quicker until you’re dripping all over it. 

“Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki,”

“That’s fucking right. Cum for me, come on,” 

You aren’t sure how it’s possible - that little push of arousal like sparking off fireworks. But hearing him is all it takes you for your whole body to get pulled taut. For you to finish with an orgasm, one that’s longer and harder where each wave lasts so long it almost hurts. You’re squeezing him so tight - the stimulation too much to bear. 

But you’re not finished, not ready for the way Bakugou is handling you for the second time. You’ve always known he was strong, but you’ve never felt so delicate as he flips you around and lays you into the mattress all in one gesture. You don’t even know that it happened until you blink blearily to see him above you. His eyes are so intense you tremble. 

 His hands come behind your knees again, until you lifted just slightly. It’s another brand new angle, another way of intense pleasure this time from your over-sensitive walls. Heaving, your hands push on his torso. It’s too much, he’s too much.

But he’s ceaseless. Even on your spine, each one of your nerves fried - Bakugou doesn’t give you any room to breathe. He folds you like it’s nothing. Your thighs tense and trembling, he dips down to really look at you. His mouth is swollen from where his teeth were biting in. You wrap your hands around his neck, dragging him down to you. He grunts. 

“It’s harder to cum when I’m not looking at you,” 

You almost laugh. If he wasn’t fucking you the way he was, you think you would be. Each of your giggles is cut by a moan or cry. Your ears feel full, your body gone heavy. You listen to the pounding rain but your body is caught in an endless loop of stimulation. Over again, stimulating the same deep nerves to the point it feels like being dug out. If he wasn’t so sweet to you, you’d feel used. Even so, you hardly mind. Instead, you stare with glassy eyes at Bakugou above you. 

Bakugou is looking down at you with his teeth bared, eyes glued to your cunt and how it sucks him. How it shines with arousal, how the tip spreads you open and keeps you open until he’s balls deep. 

“I wanna fuck you forever,” ― He says, pulling you before thrusting himself all the way back in ― “Wanna make you cry, won’t stop till you push me away,” 

“Too much,” Your voice shakes, throat hoarse from the highs of adrenaline you’re still riding “It’s too much!” 

“You can give me one more,” 

His voice is smooth. 

“Hold yourself up for me,” 

Shaking, you keep yourself in position - wondering what Bakugou is doing with his hands before you feel fingers on your clit again. You gasp - body flaring up with hypersensitivity. You choke on the sound of your own voice, wanting to push him away. He pins you with his weight. You lay underneath him, unmoving. A jagged edge splinters your mind. You aren’t sure it’s possible to cum again, so your mouth is gaping open in a plead. You can’t, you’re sure you can’t. 

But every word of disbelief is met with a kiss on your calf. Bakugou continuously thrusting into you. Deep, excessive, oddly patient even as he starts to lose his composure. Concentration lingers in the crease of his brows, the set of his jaw as you look up at him with lovesickness and desperation. 

All of a sudden, you feel something. Your brows shoot up and Bakugou instantly connects his lips to yours. Swallowing every last sound as your whole body constricts. All the muscles in your thighs, your stomach, your whole body clenched. 

And then, for a third time, you cum. You cum so terribly hard and for so long you can feel your mind breaking. Your nails wrap around his arms, digging into his back as you silently scream. 

Bakugou drops his head onto your shoulder as he shudders. His thrusts going sloppy, he groans into your ear. It reverbs through your whole body. You run your fingers through his hair, catching your breath. 

“I’m gonna, g-gonna, shit,” 

“Cum inside me, Katsuki. Give it to me, hero,” 

You think the last words might be too much until you feel his nails dig into your hips so hard it’s painful. You’d have to explore it later, but for now, you moan - shivering as you feel him give you a few pumps before hot, thick cum paints your insides completely white. You can feel yourself full, contented. 

Once you’ve both finished, and Bakugou rides out his high - he collapses on top of you. The weight of his sweaty body makes you laugh. He smells sweet and earthy, like home. In the afterglow, your heart beats funnily. You look around and see the flowers on your windowsill, and think about the note underneath. 

“Katsuki,” You call, voice soft. He grunts. 

“I love you,” 

“....love you too,” He says, flushed “Even when you drive me crazy,” 

Romance isn’t dead. Not by any means.

[raffe156]

Oh good because I just wanted to make sure!!

so going back to my thought - do you think Tank would send Price nudes? “Tame” ones an not so tame one? 👀 like let’s say they are on different missions (Which is very rare they are a package deal - an Gaz comes free with their purchase) an he’s lonely? He gets a text sent from tank an its of her naked in his hat?? Or a tame one of her just with his cigar in her mouth? (That gets him going) Or it can be the other way around he sends a di*k pic? I like to think they enjoy phone sex aswell like he loves the sound of her an her him? also imagine he never deleted them an Ghost finds them 😱

Heavy weight boxing match in a safe house 🥊💥

💰 v 💀

anyway love your work

-🖤

She 100% does haha even if they are in the same room!

I really liked this one so I’m going to reward it with a quick Drabble!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

—————

You knew you shouldn’t have sent it, but this briefing was taking way too long and you enjoyed seeing Prices reaction.

He was sat on the other side of the room right at the back his arms folded across his board chest. You were sat apart only because when you were sat next to each other you both couldn’t be trusted to keep your hands on the table.

You watched as he pulled his phone out from his back pocket, his face lit up in the dark room by the screen he held it out in front of him, his eyesight was getting worse, when his brain registered the image he quickly slammed his phone to his chest instantly looking in your direction, you gave him a cheeky smile, when had you taken that? You were lay on his cot bed in nothing but his hat and your fingers in places he would rather have his. Price looked at the image again, his head shaking as he released a loud sigh….it caught the visiting officers attention

“I’m sorry Captain, do you not agree?”

Shit. The whole room turned to look at him, Ghost who was leaning against the wall in-front of him look down at Prices phone. Before he could get a better look at the screen Price had turned it off, but Ghost knew a dirty picture when he seen one, an he would put money on who it was from…lucky dog.

“Ah no…please continue…” Price adjusted in his seat shooting you an angry look, the room slowly returned their focus to the projector, but Prices mind was now racing an the blood rushing to his crotch. He made sure everyone’s back were turn to face the other way an opened the message again a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, he was going to give you a taste of your own medicine he sent the picture an sat back in his chair feeling triumphant. That will show you. He watched as you angled yourself in your seat opening the message up under the table you looked at him over your shoulder there was that devilish grin, it drove him wild but again your lack of attention had caused the speaker to pause…the whole room was now looking at you, phone still showing the pov shot of you kneeling in front of Price his cock hard with his cum on your tongue holding it out proudly. Fuck. “Everything ok Tank?” The officer smiled at you. “No nothing just forgot to turn my phone off” you gave him your best smile. “Come on Tank, you should know to turn it off I’ve taught you better manners than that kid” Price shook his head signalling for the Officer to continue. What the hell? You gave Price a quick look he was grinning from ear to ear, if he thought he had won, he would be mistaken. As the officer turned, you quickly sent a reply back to Price which would surely result in your victory.

You faced the front as Price looked down at his phone another image really? Hadn’t you learnt your lesson? Fair enough he pressed the image…but it wasn’t an image it was a video, a video that played out loud because though his notifications were on silent his media wasn’t! The heavy breathing, grunts an slapping noises filled the room they bounced off the walls an Price couldn’t turn it off fast enough! He ended up jamming the button to turn the entire phone off. His face was a picture his neck had gone bright red an he was staring daggers at you. Tank 1 - Price 0

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

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[ibukis-songbook]

[Non-Request] Kiibo, Makoto, Nagito, and Shuichi’s f!s/o wearing something that makes them unusually dominant

I made myself blush while writing this.

Okay, so I started this based around a fantasy I had and started using it as a warm up for before I wrote something, and then eventually I finished it! It ended up so long because, for one, I’d had these fantasies before, and two, I just. Kept going. Lol. The horn knee does not end. If anyone wants to request this with an s/o with a different gender identity or with different characters feel more than free to! Please provide outfit ideas though because I’m not sure if my fried little brain can come up with any more.

(PS: does the colored and italicized text for the character dialogue look more pleasing?)

CW: nsfw, slight jealousy and possessiveness, revealing outfits, lingerie, cat ears/tail, title of “master”, maid costume, petplay, maid/servant play, pet names, leash and collar

.｡.:*☆♥︎♫♪—————— ↫ l l ↬ ——————♪♫♥︎☆*:.｡.

Gold Medal - Destroy Boys

Kiibo:

Oh gods

You’d worn tight outfits before, sure. Maybe a tank top and a pair of skinny jeans, or that one crop top you own…

But never anything like this.

It was a short, tight black little number you were planning on wearing to go out with the rest of the class for dinner.

Was it hot in the room or was Kiibo just overheating?

It hugged your shape in all of the right places, holding onto your hips and chest. It was short enough that he had a clear view of your thighs and oh gods he was gonna lose it

Humans we’re just so soft, and you especially could melt him with just a touch. Almost every inch of you was basically exposed, and he wanted to grab it, kiss it, stroke it, run his fingers over it…

“What do you think, Kiibo? Is it too much?”

Now, Kiibo would never police what you wear, and he wasn’t a possessive lover,

But that being said, the thought of the rest of the class seeing you in this dress? It did make him jealous. Very jealous.

Something snapped in him, and he uncharacteristically grabbed you roughly by the waist.

“K-Kiibs? What are you-“

“I can’t have you wearing that out, or around me, or…at all. Not without me being…excited.”

He shoved you up against the now closed front door, and kissed you. It was still a very Kiibo kiss—gentle and sweet—but a bit more pleading than usual.

It got rougher and heavier quickly though. He began nipping at your neck, and slid his thigh between your legs to tease you.

“I really can’t have you wearing this,” he bit down on your sensitive spot, “You know what? You should just take it off. Right here.”

Needless to say, you guys didn’t make it to the restaurant in time. Kokichi and Miu totally teased you guys the next day in the group chat.

Shuichi:

Shuichi thinks of you as more cute than sexy most of the time.

It isn’t because he didn’t think you were sexy. You were the sexiest person in the world to him. He just didn’t really see your body as something that was to be sexualized as much as it was something to be appreciated.

So he never told you what to wear and what to not, unless he was explicitly asked for his opinion. He never acted as if you were an object. He often liked your more risqué outfits, encouraging you to wear them out more!

And he had never really felt the need to viciously tear anything off of you. He was so gentle with you regardless of how turned on he was. You could wear nothing but a thong and he’d take it off of you like he was one wrong move away from ripping it, and you, in half.

Though this time, your experiments with fashion had tipped him over an edge he didn’t know he had.

You’d been wanting to try the lingerie-as-clothes trend for a while, so you had bought a bustier top with sheer, puffy sleeves, and paired it with a short skirt and a pair of classic pumps.

It was lacy, and cute, and downright gorgeous on you.

And you could tell that’s exactly what Shuichi was thinking before you even asked what he thought about it.

He was bright red and barely covering his boner. He stood there with his jaw halfway to the floor, trying to stammer out some semblance of a sentence.

“S/o…y-you…uh, you, you’re s-so…I, uh, god, fuck…I wanna…”

“You wanna what, Shu honey?” you replied, ever so innocently (naughty s/o!!!)

Aight, that’s it.

He snaked his arms around you and pulled you into a heated kiss, his mind glazed over with lust.

“I want…” he sighed, “No, I …need…to unlace this.” He had begun tugging on the back lacing for the top.

“I need you under me… and I need…your hands tied with this ribbon, baby…”

He began kissing down your neck as he guided you to the bed.

“You’re under arrest,” he delicately tied your wrists together with the ribbon from your bustier, which now lay on the bedroom floor.

“You’re under arrest for stealing my heart. Your punishment is letting the Detective have his way with you. How…does that sound?”

Nagito:

Nagito switches back and forth between dominant and submissive, but only ever what you want from him. He’s happy as long as you are, and doesn’t ever really assert himself.

In any position he’s in though, he loves worshipping you. Everything about you, your body, it’s all so hopeful and beautiful.

He would die if you did the same to him. He thrives off of your praise, and your approval.

So imagine his pure love and adoration for you when he came home to find you wearing a skimpy maid outfit, complete with the cutest pair of thigh highs, and a leather collar and leash, sitting oh so patiently on the bed, waiting for him.

“Hope, w…what are you…?”

He’s BEET RED and tbh already has a boner

“Do you like it, Nagito? You always do so much for me. I wanted to be the one to serve you today.”

His eyes are glazed over in love and lust at the thought of you doting on him, listening to every command, listening to him like he was your lifeline, just like he does with you.

“Oh, y/n, I c-couldn’t possibly ask…you…”

You cut him off by pulling him to a rough kiss. You bit his bottom lip, and started pulling off his jacket. His knees began to give out already, landing him on the bed next to you.

“Please, let me serve you tonight, Master.”

Aaaand that’s what got him

COMPLETE MOOD SWITCH

He kissed and bit down on your neck, savoring your moans, squeezing your hips tighter every time you allowed yourself to make another sweet, sweet whimper.

“You really want to be told what to do by trash like me?”

You nodded, and began returning the favors he did to your neck.

He took your hands in his, guiding them to the hem of his shirt. You helped him take it off, and he tugged on your leash, locking you into another passionate make out session.

“So pretty, so desperate to serve. All of this for me?”

“If you want me to tell you what I want so badly, then I will,” he started untying the apron that was layered upon the dress. “I want you to be completely exposed to me. I want you to show me how badly you need my touch.”

You shuddered as he leaned into you to whisper. Your neck tingled at the feeling of his breath grazing your jaw.

“Master Nagito…let me touch you. Please.”

“No no, not yet baby. If you want to touch me, you’re going to have to show master how much of a desperate girl you really are. Can you do that? Can you show your master how needy you are for my hands all over you?”

Nagito had a lot more stamina than usual for the rest of the night.

Makoto:

Makoto. Sweet boy Makoto…

Most revealing outfits could get him going, let’s be real.

He’s just so easily flustered! And he loooooovesssss your body. Just seeing some cleavage gives him a nosebleed~

He’s always had a fantasy of you in a puppy or kitty getup and you two had talked about it before.

So, as a surprise, you put on a cute lingerie set and a pair of cat ears and a matching tail, a cute collar, and sit on the bed until he comes home.

“Hey s/o! I’m ho-OME?”

Insta-boner

What a cutie omg he’s just sputtering and trying to figure out what he did do deserve such a wonderful girlfriend

You giggle and pull him closer to you on the bed

“Makoto, honey, do you like it? I got all of this just for you.”

He’s flushed a dark red now. “Y-yes! I l-l-love it, but do you r-really…?”

You laugh again, and take his hand in yours. You hook his index finger around the loop on your collar.

“Master, I want you to own me. Please touch me.”

Makoto stares at you with his mouth open for a sec. You think that he’s upset, and you’re about to tell him you can stop and take it off, when he yanks your collar, making you gasp, and pulls you into a frenzied make-out session.

He shoves his tongue into your mouth and grabs you by your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You moan as he grinds up into you.

He pulls away, and there’s a string of saliva between your mouths.

“Meow for me.”