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thatonebirdwrites · 23 days ago

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Kara and Heat

Follow-up to L-Corp, Chill, and Scotch (Lena's POV) and Catco and Family (Kara's POV)

Lena's smile didn't reach her eyes, and her heart murmur sounded more pronounced. Kara gave her a hopeful smile as she handed over Lena's favorite Irish scones.

"Piping hot and direct from Ireland," Kara said, cheerfully. She was still in her supersuit since she hadn't given herself time to change before she dropped by to hand it off.

"Thank you?" The way Lena spoke made it sound like a question. "Are you not concerned what others will think, Supergirl? You, giving me, gifts as if we are..." Her heartrate abruptly sky rocketed, and she looked away, her scent profile switching to a more acidic one. "... dating?"

Kara tilted her head. "Why would that bother me? I'd be honored."

Lena's breath hitched. "I -- I see." Footsteps signaled the approach of Sam, and the door to Lena's office opened. "Ah, Sam's here to review--"

"I -- I thought Sam was in Metropolis?" Kara looked past her toward the other woman, who walked up to Lena's desk and dumped her briefcase on it with a thump. Lena winced.

"She returned." Lena gestured vaguely with her free hand. "Surely you've read Andrea's exclusive? She's taking over as CEO. I will be a research consultant."

No, Kara had no idea. "Oh. You didn't mentioned it. Andrea has me doing what cafe has the best scones at the moment."

Lena looked down at the box and fiddled with its lid. "I -- I can talk to her about that."

"No, don't bother. She'll just take it out on someone else." It'd been several weeks of Kara trying so hard to talk with Lena, to bring her breakfast and other gifts, and Lena still won't look her in the eye. Then came the complexity of Andrea as a boss. If Kara had to write another article about cafe scones, she might torch her new workstation.

"I see. How is that going?" Lena glanced back at Sam, that forced smile still on her face.

"Andrea took away my office." Kara slouched against the railing on Lena's balcony. "I know you set that up for me because of my hearing issues. Those walls were a blessing. I don't know what kind of glass you used, but it cut out half the sound of the city and I could focus. No one uses the office now."

"She-- she did?" Lena frowned. "Kara, how much does your hearing bother you? Since you can..." she waves her hand toward the city at large.

Kara hesitated. The urge to lie still pulsed, and she had to actively fight it. "The glasses I wear? They have lead in them, which dimmed my supersenses to some degree. I have gotten better at filtering out sounds, but..." She nibbled on her bottom lip. "Okay, picture yourself standing next to a gun, but you have no ear protection. Now amplify the gunshot sound by a hundred -- no a thousand."

"Jesus, Kara." Lena's eyes widened. "Is that how it is now?"

"Why do you think I like this balcony?" Kara patted the concrete railing. "I'm up high enough that the sound takes longer to move through the air to reach me. The longer time also pulls some of its energy out of the sound, thus it's quieter. I can still hear when bad things happen up here, but it's not like an explosion in my ear like it is when someone slams a door or a phone rings at full volume next to me."

"Ah." Lena tilted her head to study Kara for a long moment. Kara assumed her thoughts were still on the hearing issue, but her next words end up as whiplash for Kara. "Kara, why are you doing this?" She held up the scones.

Kara blinked. "Because you're Lena? And I wanted to do something special for you."

"Right..." Lena sighed. "Look, Sam is waiting, and I really must be going. I'll give Andrea a call and tell her to stop breaking ADA. We have on record your accommodation request, and she can't violate that for no good reason."

"Lena," Kara stared, unsure whether to be delighted or worried. The sudden topic change had her floundering. "You don't have to--"

"When I signed the sale, part of that was an addendum for her to follow the accommodation requests to the letter." Lena's voice turned frosty. "I do not like hearing she's violating it already." She pivoted and muttered under her breath, "typical of her."

Had Lena forgotten that Kara could still hear her? She watched Lena greet Sam and offer her a scone. Neither glanced at Kara, who stood on the balcony still.

She hadn't meant to listen in, but she couldn't stop herself.

"So, you really okay with Ruby and I staying with you? It might be a few weeks to sort out the housing situation," Sam asked right before she bit into the scone. "Holy shit, this is good."

"From Ireland directly. And yes, it's fine. You're family, Sam." Lena reached over to grasp her shoulder. "Stay as long as you need. And eat your fill." She pushed the box closer to Sam. "I'm not hungry."

"Lena, you're never hungry these days." Sam frowned. "Please eat one scone."

"What are you my dietician?" Lena snapped.

"Hun, that doesn't work on me. I'm a mother." Sam took out a scone, laid out a napkin, and placed it in front of Lena. "No starving yourself on my watch. Now let's talk contracts."

That was when Kara learned several important things:

Sam currently stayed at Lena's, and Lena invited her to stay as long as she liked.

Lena knew Andrea well enough to suspect she'd cause harm.

Lena wasn't eating, and it had Sam worried.

Kara had no idea what to do with this information, because the second one had to be wrong. Surely.

Lena would never choose to hurt Kara on purpose, right?

The thought disturbed her so much that she shot off the balcony fast enough to cause a wake strong enough to rattle Lena's windows.

***

Lena sat at her counter, her feet perched on a rung, as she tabbed through the coding program. Her original idea she had to shelve because Sam's insistence that it was mind-control made her feel far too much like Lex.

She didn't want to be like Lex. As much as it hurt that he died by her hand, she could not forget what he wrote in his journals about her. He wrote of her as if she was a chess piece, and it had felt so dehumanizing. It's why she'd been so determined to hunt him down. She needed to face him and find out why.

Facing him had brought her right into his hands. He knew she'd find him there, and had prepared for the reveal. With his typical theatrics, he'd unveiled the truth in a way to cause maximum harm. The glee on his face as he did it? The way he laughed at her pain? Like always, he found a way to tug the rug out of the things she cared about.

She loved him, yet she'd killed him. He had been surprised at first that she'd done it, but even that hadn't stopped his plan. He'd gone through it as he struggled to breathe. His last words mocked her, and he was right. She was a fool.

Anger seared through her. Was that all she was? A chess piece for her brother and the Kryptonians? She slammed her laptop shut and stalked to the alcohol cabinet.

Except it was empty. That's right. Sam hid the alcohol. Ruby had a tendency to search the cabinets for snacks, eating what had once been saved for Kara.

But Lena suspected she hid it to also avoid moments like this. Where the urge to drink herself into oblivion saturated every fiber in Lena's being.

Dammit, it was her alcohol. She could drown herself in it as much as she liked.

After twenty minutes, she found the alcohol in the bedroom she gave Sam. Tucked into the back of the closet. She nabbed a bottle of scotch and stormed outside to sit on her balcony. She didn't bother with a glass. Opened it and drank directly from the bottle.

The scotch's heat did little to drown the pain in her heart.

At least one thing hadn't played in Lex's favor. Sam Arias threw a wrench into whatever he had planned.

She glared at the sky, at the faint dots of stars washed out in the glow of the city. Light pollution that made the sky treacherous for nocturnal life, which she could fix.

Leaning over her balcony, she scanned the city streets as she took another drink. Easy fix. Replace the hoods of all street lights so the light pointed down. It'd be more efficient and less energy waste too.

What else could she fix? All those rooftops could either be solar panels or community gardens. Be all self-sufficient or something.

She took another chug of the bottle. Making a gun with her other hand, she pretended to shoot at nearby buildings.

All that glass and concrete. Ugly as hell. Thermal equilibrium on hot days won't work with this architecture, as it was made for height and aesthetics, not thermal equilibrium, so hot days meant higher bills for air conditioning.

But how to fix that? She took another long drink. In the distance she heard the sound of waves. "Algae," she said out loud and giggled. That wouldn't work but moss should. Grow moss up the concrete and steel. A green city that would improve the thermal equilibrium, and less power on air conditioning.

What else? Her thoughts grew more erratic, ideas that were semi-connected, danced from moss to architecture to more efficient solar panels.

Ideas her and Sam sort of covered, but those had been silly mostly. This could change things for the better.

"Fixing everything but my heart," she muttered. She peered into the bottle. She still had more left.

Even if she did all these projects and some of Sam's silly ones, would it make any difference? Would it heal the pain in her heart?

Maybe if she refused to rest. Dove into her work and not allowed her mind to rest like this. The pain became unbearable in evenings, and with the transition to Sam as CEO, it meant more time for Lena's projects, but she couldn't even make up her own damn mind.

She wanted to fix the world. To end suffering still, but she hated the thought of Ruby or Sam hurt by what Sam insisted was mind-control. She couldn't lose them.

They were all she had left.

She had almost finished the bottle when she heard the sound of footsteps behind her.

"Don't even, Sam," Lena growled, not bothering to turn around. "I'll drink as much as I like. So don't try me."

"Um, I'm not Sam."

She pivoted and almost lost her balance. Kara stood a few feet away in her supergirl outfit. She pointed the bottle at her. "You live in that now? Or is Kara Danvers no longer a thing? Since you know, you're trying being honest for once."

She recognized she was drunk, but at this point, she did not care.

"I was doing laps and heard your heartbeat spike," Kara admitted.

"Laps?" Lena frowned. "Like sky laps?" She wiggled her finger in the air in what she hoped was a a circle.

"Yeah. When I'm upset I..." Kara sighed. "Lena, you're not okay, are you? I -- I heard you weren't eating, and now you're... drunk." Kara's nose wrinkled.

"Oh? Can you smell it? Supersmell too?" Lena stepped closer and stabbed Kara's chest with her bottle. "What other secrets you keep from me?"

Kara's brow wrinkled. "You know them all now. I mean it. I promise to never lie again."

Lena laughed. "Oh, that's good. Real good. You almost had me there." She took another swig but nothing was left. Annoyed, she tossed the bottle at Kara's chest. It shattered and the glass fell to the ground between them.

"Lena..." Kara looked at the debris with a frown.

"You're impenetrable," Lena said with a flick of dismissal. "It can't hurt you and your perfect body."

Why did she have to look so damn hot in that suit? The skirt had been bad enough for Lena's libido, but these pants? The one's she'd designed and gave to Brainy to finish? All those interwoven layers, some anti-kryptonite fibers she'd devised with Brainy's assistance, hugged Kara's impressive guns and rock-solid abs.

Fuck.

She was too drunk for these thoughts.

"How about you go inside and drink some water?"

Lena laughed. "You, the liar, cares about me? That's rich."

"You're drunk and standing very close to a railing on a very tall building!" Kara gently pushed her away from the edge. "And yes I care! I've always cared. Honest."

She wanted to yell at Kara. To beat her fists against Kara's perfect chest. Instead, she grabbed the front of Kara's suit and pulled her close. Far too close, her breath hot against Lena's own, and that nearly unraveled her willpower.

God, why did she have to look so damn hot all the time? The heat of Kara's gaze only worsened Lena's struggle.

Fuck.

It'd be so easy to just kiss her. To shove her against the building and give in to her raging libido. Her lips hovered closer to Kara's. Heat radiated from Kara's body, scorching her, and Lena desperately wanted Kara to take her right there.

Her stomach had other ideas, however. Nausea clawed its way up from her stomach, her only food that entire day what Sam had insisted she eat -- a scone and half a salad.

She closed her eyes.

No use, her stomach rebelled, and she puked over Kara's irritatingly perfect boots.

"Well, that's one way to deal with alcohol poisoning," Kara said.

Lena didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Warm arms scooped her up and cradled her against Kara's chest. "Let's get you inside." With far more tenderness than she deserved, Kara laid her on the sofa and tucked a blanket around her.

Lena briefly closed her eyes, the glare of the lights too bright. She peaked when footsteps sounded next to her. Kara had placed on the coffee table a glass of water, pain and nausea meds, and a large bowl. Kara stood next to the sofa, but instead of the suit, she wore sweatpants and a hoodie.

"Where's the suit?" God, she had a headache already.

"Nanotech." Kara touched her glasses. "When I put these back on, it retreats. He said you helped design it."

"Yeah, yeah." Lena waved her hand at Kara. "Supergirl's an ass, but I don't want her dead."

"Oh. Thank you."

She took a pain med and drank some water, but that unsettled her stomach, so she laid down and covered her eyes. "What're you doing here anyway?"

"Your heartbeat." Kara sounded timid, scared almost. "I -- I listen to it to make sure you're okay. Since, you know, the universe keeps trying to hurt you. And, well, you have a murmur. It's gotten worse."

Lena blinked at Kara, confused.

She had a what?

"Your heart. I -- I can hear it, and you have a murmur." Kara sounded embarrassed almost. "But you're drunk, so I'll wait until your sober."

Lena couldn't think of a response, so she closed her eyes and ignored Kara instead.

***

Kara hadn't lied to Lena. The heart murmur had been part of what she hoped to talk about, but she'd also wanted to ask her about whether she was failing to eat again. She didn't want Lena to get anemia again, that had worsened the heart murmur, and she still felt guilt over whether bringing that up might have saved Lena a few trips to the emergency room, during her first year in National City.

One of the many reasons Kara decided to just eat lunch with Lena as much as possible.

Bu that hadn't been her only reason either.

She wanted to ask if her and Sam were just friends or something more.

And yet, maybe she'd gotten her answer to that one. Lena had almost kissed her.

Was that just the alcohol? Or had Lena always wanted to kiss her?

To have Lena lean that close? Kara felt like she'd gone up in flames, and the urge to kiss Lena had hit her so hard that she'd been breathless.

Sure, the thought had hit her randomly during their long friendship, but it had been a random, idle thought she dismissed easily.

Now she found she couldn't. Lena's breath had been hot against her lips, and they tingled still as if they had kissed.

Kara landed on the fire escape stairs at her apartment and glanced toward downtown, a mile away. Leaving Lena hadn't been what she wanted, but she'd heard Sam and Ruby in the hallway, and it hadn't seemed a good idea to face Sam.

She'd been too rattled by the almost kiss.

She opened her window and slid through, deactivating her suit as she did so.

Instead, Lena had been drunk, antagonistic, and confusing.

Hadn't she said at the Pulitzer's that she would always be Kara's friend? Her hot and cold nature confused.

Something else was wrong.

Did Lena blame her for Lex's death?

Oh Rao.

Kara dropped face first onto her sofa. Why hadn't she thought of that sooner?

She knew Supergirl failed to save her brother. Knew Lex was dead. She still loved her brother, despite how mean he was to her.

Kara groaned. If Lena blamed her, then how could she fix that?

Apologize. Would that be enough?

Would anything ever be enough to make up for the fact Kara's at fault for her brother's death?

When Kara chose to become Supergirl, she had promised herself that she would not kill her enemies. No matter how easy it might seem, because she would not be like her mother.

She'd been angry still at being sent away, but when she learned the truth, she'd been angry at the legacy of her family and how that followed her to earth. Threatened life here, all because her mother and those like her had tossed people in the phantom zone instead of dealing with them in a more humane way.

She didn't want to be judge, jury, and executioner -- as Alex put it. She was here to help. Not be a god.

Except, she'd acted like one, hadn't she? Thinking she new what was best, trying to do it all herself, trying to control all the details. She’d controlled her and Lena’s relationship, held all the cards, all the information, and that hadn’t been fair, had it?

The worldkillers and Lex had taught her that she couldn't do it all herself. She needed a team to support her. Letting them help had been so hard, but hadn't that been a lesson Lena herself tried to teach her?

Lena had tried so hard to reach out to Kara after Mon-el's loss, and Kara had spurned her at first. Yet Lena persisted, and it had given Kara hope. Even if Kara kept fucking things up with Lena, she hadn't turned her back on Kara Danvers nor Supergirl, even if the trust had been fractured.

Had she lost Lena? Was she holding onto nothing but the ashes of a shattered friendship?

No, she couldn't believe that. There had to still be hope.

She couldn't stop herself. Her ears seemed perpetually tuned to Lena's heartbeat these days, and that awful murmur had gotten worse. It was louder and more frequent, and she didn't know enough human biology to assess what that meant.

Yet she listened to the heart murmur, to the slower heartrate of someone likely falling asleep.

When had Lena become the center of her life? It had crept up on her, and yet, that gift of her presence had been squandered by Kara herself. She'd been unable to fully let go of control, out of that wild fear of loss.

If she lost Lena because of Lex's death, what would she do? How could she move on?

No, no, she couldn't lose Lena, and yet, wasn't this entire situation her fault? She'd kept Lena in the dark. Messed up as Supergirl and hurt her. And now Lex was dead because of her.

How could Lena ever forgive her?

Tears stung her eyes. She hated herself. Hated how she couldn't do anything to fix this. Everything she tried seemed to increase the distance between her and Lena, and it hurt so much.

#Welp I made this sort of dark but I'm leading up to something with this AU #Supercorp #supercorp fic #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #writing #Sam Arias #supergirl cw #cw supergirl #Lena is terrible at remembering to eat in the show and there's even a discussion about it between her and Kara #So I figured in times of great stress Lena would struggle with eating yet again as that's pretty common #kara zor el #kara x lena #Heart murmurs can develop for numerous reasons and sometimes they're harmless but sometimes not

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musingmeaninglessly · 1 year ago

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The Show; Aged Up!Lo'ak x Curvy/Chubby Human!Reader

A/N; So, this whole idea was sparked by this random post I did. I can just see Lo'ak showering his girl in so much praise and worshipping her human outfits. So, this one is for all the thicc girls like me out there...

Photos are not mine, and got the art from this blog. Full credits go to the artist!

Warnings; Curvy/chubby fem human reader, aged up Lo'ak, mentions of bad body image, swearing (it's Lo'ak, after all), suggestive/almost NSFW, Lo'ak being an utter simp for you (yes, that should be a warning). Not proofread.

Summary; When you give Lo'ak a little private fashion show of all your cute human outfits, he finally persuades you to brave the Na'vi-style clothing he gifted you months ago...

"Baby, come on! You been in there for like..."

"Two whole minutes..."

Your giggle is audible to Lo'ak through the bathroom door even from where he's sprawled on your tiny bed. After taking a puff of CO2 from his mask, he lets out an overly dramatic sigh.

"That's two minutes too long! How long does it take to put on a...what's it called again?"

"A bikini?"

Lo'ak grins at the unfamiliar human word. It sounds so cute, especially when it comes from you. But he's sure it won't be nearly as cute as you'll look in the garment.

"Yes, bikini."

His accent sounds even thicker as he pronounces the word, causing you to giggle as you emerge from your tiny bathroom in the equally tiny bikini.

"Holy shit..."

Your boyfriend's reaction makes you blush, but you do a little twirl for him all the same.

Being a thicker, softer girl meant that you hadn't always embraced these smaller pieces of swimwear. Even with your early teenage years on earth, you'd always cover up. But a certain 8 ft alien boy had brought you our of your shell.

"Baby, you look so fire in this! Look at the way it hugs your cute little belly and your waist..."

Lo'ak can't help reaching his big hands out to lightly grab at your flesh, his childish mauling eliciting a chuckle from you.

"You really like it?"

His amber eyes shoot up to you in a moment as though your questioning him was the greatest offence on Pandora.

"No baby..." his shit-eating smirk tells you what's to come. What he always says, "I love it."

Your cheeks blush furiously at that, but you give him a little peck on the lips all the same. You don't even bother to try and get out of the needy grip he has on your waist. But it turns out you don't have to at all, as he suddenly glances at your dresser with mischievous eyes.

"Baby?" you question, watching your tall boyfriend lumber over to the chest of drawers, knocking over a few items on his way. With a playful scowl you pick them up, but can't help tilting your head at him in amusement as he begins rummaging through your dresser. "Baby, what are you doing?"

"Looking for something." he states matter-of-factly.

"I can see that, but what?"

"That outfit I gave you when we first got together."

There's a warmth and gentleness in the smile that he flashes over his shoulder at you, and you gulp a little in response.

In truth, you've always been damn-well petrified to sport the tiny beaded top and loin cloth that Lo'ak gifted you months ago. They're beautiful, made of sea grass from the reef and studded with tiny turquoise beads.

But it's a very open weave, and you have no doubt that Lo'ak made them that way on purpose.

"Here they are! You got so many clothes in here, Jesus Christ."

You laugh at your Na'vi boyfriend's use of such a human expression. He learnt it from his Dad, for sure, but it was also testament to how much time he spends with you.

Blue hands outstretched, he holds up the garments. You eye them for a moment too long, and he immediately knows what's going through your little human brain.

"Baby, I know you've never worn something like this before," he crouches down on his knees so he's somewhat at your eye level, and continues in a husky whisper, "but you'd look fine as hell in these..."

"Lo'ak, I'm just too-"

"Beautiful? Divine? Sexy?" His yellow eyes glimmer mischievously. "Please, just put them on for me baby. Just this one time. Please?"

He knows damn well that you can't resist his eyes, lined with long lashes and the colour of molten gold. With a roll of your own eyes, you smile softly and take the pieces of clothing from his awaiting hands.

With a self-satisfied smirk, he watches you saunter off to the bathroom to change.

"Baby, I'm gonna die out here if you take any longer! C'mon..."

You snort in derision as you stare at yourself in the tiny bathroom mirror. If anyone's gonna die in this place today, it's you. From embarrassment.

Turning your body every which way, you sigh. Just as you suspected, the minuscule garments leave very little to the imagination, if anything.

Lo'ak's such a perv...

You appreciated your boyfriend's crafting these clothes for you. It showed how much he wanted to assimilate you into his culture. How much you mean to him.

But, despite the fact that the clothes are meant to make you feel more included in Na'vi life, they also highlight how different you are from them.

How your curved waist differs from the lithe structure of Na'vi women. How the thin straps of the loin cloth show off the pronounced softness of your hips and belly. How the stretch marks decorating the tops of your thighs have nowhere to hide.

It's one thing to compare yourself to other human girls, but this is a whole new kettle of fish.

"Baby!"

You're snapped out of your vicious cycle of thoughts by your needy boyfriend. Part of you couldn't bare to, well, lay yourself more-or-less bare for him. But, you know that he won't quit his pestering unless you do.

With one last withering glance directed at your reflection, you take a deep breath before calling back, "Coming!"

Despite the fact that your bathroom is the mere size of a closet, and your bedroom not much bigger, the walk to your boyfriend feels like a damn marathon.

Gnawing at your bottom lip nervously, you clear your throat to catch his attention. It seems that you'd taken so long to pick yourself apart in the mirror, he'd resorted to flopping on your bed. You wondered if he'd taken a short nap in the time it took you to put the Na'vi clothing on.

But when he sits up, it's clear that he's very much awake...

"Baby..." Lo'ak's voice comes out in a husky whisper, laced with want. "Fuck..."

"I know, I know, it doesn't look quite right on me-"

"No."

Your eyes widen at his stern tone. He's always such a joker, such a playful flirt. But looking into his eyes now, hearing his voice, you've never seen him so serious.

"No," he clarified again, "it looks perfect. God it just...shows everything off just right..."

He groans, letting his large hands roam freely. His grip is firm and possessive, yet appreciative and gentle all at once. Barely an inch of your body goes untouched, and you're too dumbstruck to make your usual quips about him being so handsy.

In fact, this excites you. A lot.

"You really like it that much?"

Your question is like deja vu from earlier, but this moment is different somehow. Heated. Wanton. Desperate.

Lo'ak reluctantly detaches one of his hands from your soft belly, instead using his long fingers to hook under your chin with a feather-like touch. He eyes you through those long lashes of his, his fangs peaking out above his bottom lip as his breathing grows erratic as his voice drops an octave;

"You really have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

All you can do is blink down at him and slowly shake your head, inching a little closer. Since he's sat on your bed, holding you stood between his thighs, you're more-or-less at eye level. He takes the opportunity to tease you, going in for a kiss before pausing as his lips brush yours and he whispers in a gravelly tone.

"Why don't I show you, then?"

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hanni-3 · 29 days ago

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Sooo...

MARIANA INTRODUCTION TIME !! :33

I'll do a Lucas introduction as well but lesbian first

-*———*-

Let's starts with the basics shall we? ; At 10 years old Mariana Martinez moved to Puerto Rico all the way to Golden Grove. The move was....something. Travelling to somewhere to a completely different continent, with a different language, different culture— just everything is different.

At least she has her Mama with her, despite not having the best relationship with each other, deep down Mariana really cares for her mama. She just has hard time expressing it.

In step 1, Mariana is a cis girl from all the way to step 4 and doesn't really care what pronous you use "You guys are obsessed, She..He..They. I don't care." she says

-Originally when I made her ; They were a transgender boy but I scraped it (and made another one that I'll introduce later cough cough)

Mariana isn't afraid to tell the truth, she's very blunt and so horribly honest. ex : Random "Hey! What do you think of my new hat?"

Mariana "It sucks."

So..yeah.. And because of this ; back in Puerto Rico she did not have that many friends. Some parents complained to Opal about it even but guess what? Mariana still doesn't care and continues on being 'mean'.

Fun fact while we're at it : Mariana has a bit of an accent in step 1, but by the time passes they manage to cover up the accent but it'll often come by from certain words. Especially the r's and the v's (pronounces the v = b's)

And the famous bilingual problem ; forgetting words. Both native and english, when people at school found out she was from Puerto Rico (which made her a bit more popular, bragging) people would often come up to her and ask him if their Spanish homework was good enough or what that word meant. She'd either :

A. Be blunt.

B. Knows what it says and capable of translating it but, just, can't.

C. Knows the word in Spanish but forgot it in English.

(^ mostly happens in step 2)

The relationship with the leads!!!

Whenever you would ask Mariana about love, she'd peek at Tamarack Baumann secretly and look back at you, plainly responding by "I don't do that romance crap."

In step 1 : When Tamarack popped out of the leaves, catching Mariana off guard, noticing how pretty Tamarack is.

She was hostile about her at first because of how her heart keeps fluttering everytime she'd smile. They're immediately and naturally close, without Mariana noticing much. And would defend Tamarack at anytime, Tamarack said you look like a broccoli because of your hair? Well she's right and she's being honest about it. Suck it up. Nevertheless ; while those two pining idiots goes trought the hardships of Tamarack not really feeling like a regular and Mariana being, her and confused about her feelings, in the end they could call each other's girlfriend's <3

As for Qiu Lin, ehh...they're neighbors all right. Mariana was ticked off by Qiu's charming personality and Qiu's being a people pleaser.

But in step 2, while Mariana is confused with her feelings and other stuff. Not wanting to bother Tamarack or her mama and on the other hand Qiu's confused with their gender. They'd rely on each other instead and give each other their shoulders to rest their head on to either ramble or stay in complete, comfortable silence. Then Mariana would maybe give a chance to Qiu. Despite Qiu giving up on befriending her, she'd try and befriend them.

And voilà !! All the main stuff you need to know about Mariana. Thank you for giving me your time to talk about her, of course if you have any questions about her or hell, another mc that caught your eye you can ask them away. And I'd cry. Have a wonderful day/afternoon / night!!

#Finally caved in and listened to the voices #our life #our life: now & forever #olnf #olnf qiu #olnf tamarack #olnf mc #olnf mariana #olnf rambles #our life now and forever #our life mc

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

Note

i love as you wish more than words can describe! and luke and ryan!! such sweet babies! i can't stop thinking about eddie and reader having their first fight (other than the conflict around the divorce n stuff) after things have gotten settled and the boys getting worried and scared they're going to break up just like mommy and daddy 🥺 xoxo

I’m so glad that you enjoy the series! @munson-blurbs and I had fun writing it—as we always do when we write together. I hope you like what we’ve come up with 🩵

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Babe?” you call out from the bedroom. You’ve searched your closet up and down, but you can’t find the dress you’re supposed to wear. There’s no answer so you repeat yourself a bit louder. “Babe?!”

“Ya,” Eddie says, not bothering to mute the living room TV. He has Ryan on one side of him and Luke on the other; the three of them are engrossed in an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants.

You sigh impatiently, resting your hands on your hips. “Where did you put my dress?”

“Huh?” Eddie answers absently. You can hear SpongeBob’s obnoxious laughter echoing through the apartment, which only irritates you further. “What dress?”

Throwing a robe on, you angrily march out to him. “The dress you picked up from the dry cleaners.” You watch as his eyes widen, and his gaze drops to the ground. “Eddie, you did pick up my dress from the dry cleaners, right?”

Eddie scrambles to his feet, slipping into his sneakers and grabbing his keys. “Shit, I’ll go get it right now.”

“It’s Sunday,” you mutter through gritted teeth, determined to keep your cool in front of the kids. “They’re closed on Sundays. That’s why I asked you to pick it up yesterday.”

“Sorry, baby,” he shrugs, “but you have a bunch of others, yeah? You can wear one of those.” He slides off his shoes and plops back onto the couch. “Crisis averted.”

Fuming, you grab the remote from the coffee table and press the power button, watching the colorful backdrop of Bikini Bottom fade to black. Ignoring Luke and Ryan’s disappointed groans, you turn to your boyfriend, lips pressed into a tight line. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” When he continues sitting there, a blank stare on his face, you elaborate. “In the room, please?”

It finally clicks in Eddie’s mind that you’re upset, and he slowly rises from the couch. The two of you are watching one another so you miss the look that the boys share on the couch. You turn around and stalk back into the bedroom. Eddie’s right on your heels and closes the door behind you.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Eddie says. “I forgot to swing by yesterday, but what’s the big deal? Why can’t you just find something else to wear?”

“That’s not the point, Eddie,” you say with a sigh. “I asked you specifically to pick this dress up for me and you didn’t.”

“Babe, it wasn’t intentional, I forgot.” He walks over and sits on the foot of the bed.

“How does that make it any better?” you ask, voice rising. “When you ask me to do something, I do it. How am I supposed to feel when you forget about me?”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie says with a harsh bark of laughter. “I didn’t forget about you. I forgot to stop at the dry cleaners. While I was out running a million other different errands.”

“A million?” you snap. “You went to the grocery store and the bank! And the dry cleaners is next to the supermarket!”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie huffs, pushing himself off the bed. He stomps over to the closet and yanks it open. He dramatically gestures to all the other dresses you have hanging in there. “Are none of these suitable for you, Your Highness? In my humble opinion, any of these would be fine. Unless you think someone is going to show up to the church in a ball gown.”

“Maybe I won’t go at all then,” you harrumph, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. It’s childish and petty, but you’re too annoyed to care.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’ll make sure to tell Theo that you missed his first communion because you had a wardrobe emergency.” He pronounces the last two words in a nasal, high-pitched tone.

“Go right ahead and—” you start to retort, but you’re cut off by the sound of mumbling outside the door.

“—get divorced?” You hear Luke’s tiny voice, laced with worry.

“They have to be married to get divorced,” Ryan’s telling him. “They’re just gonna break up.”

“Shit,” Eddie breathes out, raking his fingers through his hair. “Didn’t know they were listening.” He opens the door and gives them a sheepish look. “Guys? You okay?”

“Please don’t break up!” Luke cries out, flinging himself into his dad’s legs. When he pulls back, you can see that his eyes are misty with the prospect of tears.

Ryan, as usual, is a bit more reserved than his brother, but you can tell that he’s nervous, too. His silence speaks volumes as he looks at you through his long lashes.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie murmurs, crouching down so he’s closer to their level. “No one’s breaking up, okay?”

“Then why were you fighting?” Luke asks, wiping at his cheeks. “You and Mom used to fight an’ then you got divorced.”

You sit on the ground, tucking your legs under you. “Sometimes, grown-ups fight. Even when they love each other. But it doesn’t mean they’ll break up.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “And we love each other very, very much. Almost as much as we love you two little eavesdroppers.” This elicits a giggle from Luke and a smile from Ryan.

“How do you know if it’s a ‘love’ fight or a ‘break up’ fight?” the older boy pipes up.

“Well, when you love someone, you can get frustrated with them or upset with them,” you explain, “but you take time to cool off so you can talk it out calmly later. That’s the difference; with a break up fight, you don’t wanna work it out.”

“Do you wanna work it out?” Ryan asks softly.

You nod. “Of course. We’re not going to break up over a silly mistake.” You watch as he visibly relaxes, and you turn towards Eddie. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. And I didn’t have to be so dramatic about the whole thing, either.” You’re cringing internally just thinking about your empty threat not to go to the communion.

“I’m sorry, too.” He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “I said I would do you a favor and I didn’t do it. I’d be mad, too.” He offers you a small smile. “Can we kiss and make up?”

“Eww!” Luke scrunches his nose and sticks out his tongue. “Daddy, you’re gonna get cooties!”

Eddie laughs, ruffling his son’s hair. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I got my cooties shot.” He leans in and kisses you with an exaggerated mwah! “Oh, no!” he says suddenly, shaking all of his limbs as though they’re moving uncontrollably. “The shot must’ve worn off. I’ve…I’ve been cootified!”

Ryan and Luke run away from him as he makes grabby hands, chasing them around the apartment. When the boys run by you, you block their path and hold them captive. “I’ve got ‘em!” you proudly announce. “I’ve kidnapped the fresh meat, King Cootie.”

Eddie bows in front of you, where his sons are wriggling in your grasp. “Excellent teamwork, my Queen.” He reaches out and tickles them until they’re complaining that they can’t breathe.

“Okay, Cootie Family; let’s get ready,” he says. “Boys, nice clothes, please. Ryan, please make sure your brother isn’t wearing anything with a cartoon on it.”

Everyone goes to their rooms to get dressed, and Eddie sneaks up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist. “Seeing as you’ve already infected me with your cooties, can I have another kiss?” he mumbles into your ear.

“I think that can be arranged, you nasty cootie monster,” you tease.

“That’s King Cootie Monster to you.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie Munson fic #AYW #AYWS #request

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callofdudes · 2 years ago

Text

✨GhostSoap incorrect quotes✨

With 141 chaos included.

Soap: Oops, got your mental illness 😊

Ghost: You give that back.

Ghost, pulling out a knife: That was a gift from my father!

-------

Ghost: I'm sorry for being mentally ill.

Soap: ...

Ghost: And a bit messed up in the head.

Ghost: The sex will be good though.

-------

Ghost: Johnny, this place is fancy and I don't know which fork to kill myself with.

-------

Soap: Simon, you're late for date night again, what was it this time?

Ghost, standing in the living room covered in blood: Well...

Soap, sighing: Baby I want to go out for dinner!!

Ghost: I know but just one more time love- next week we can go on a proper date but-

Soap: Hiding a body isn't a date!!

-------

Ghost: I don't want you talking at my funeral!

Soap: What?

Ghost: You can go to my funeral but you can't talk-

Soap: Why??

Ghost: My funeral is my time to shine!

-------

Soap: I don't know what the big deal is

Gaz, sighing: Ok, let's break this down. First of all, you don't fix any of the appliances in your apartment.

Soap: Yeah, it's too hard.

Gaz: You don't fix up your apartment in general.

Soap: Couldn't be bothered.

Gaz: Dude, you can't even fix up a decent meal for yourself.

Soap: What even is a stove. I mean...

Gaz: Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you??

Ghost: Hey, can I have 40 bucks real quick?

Soap, leaning in to whisper: I still think I can fix him.

Gaz: For fucks sake-

-------

Soap: Ghost, what's like a word your parents wouldn't let you use growing up. Like they said it was a curse word but it really wasn't.

Ghost: No, I can't say that, it's too embarrassing.

Soap: Oh come on I'll go first, my parents told us 'shut up' was like a curse. Like it was a terrible phrase we couldn't use.

Ghost: What? My parents said that to me all the time.

Soap: Really?

Ghost: Ok, this is a word we literally never used in our house. I don't even know if I'm pronouncing it right... Uh, love?

Soap: What?

Ghost: Oh I am pronouncing it wrong. Uh, luvé?

Soap: Uh no, it's pronounced love.

Ghost: Oh, yeah, well we never said that.

Soap: Ghost, you- you know I'm here for you right?

Ghost: That's so kind of you Johnny. You know what, I tolerate you.

Soap: What... What?? Tolerate? That's mean

Ghost: What, no it's not! That's like the deepest form of affection you can show somebody!

-------

Soap: Have you seen a person named 'Ghost' around here?

Gaz: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.

Price: It looks fine to me?

Gaz: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!

-------

Ghost: *Screams*

Soap: *Screams louder to assert dominance*

Gaz: Should we do something?!

Price, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

-------

Gaz: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?

Soap: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Ghost?

Ghost: Probably “road work ahead”.

Price: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

-------

Ghost: I think Price was right.

Soap: I'm surprised he haven't marched in here to say 'I told you so.'

Gaz: He wouldn't do that.

Price: You're right, Gaz. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that.

Price: *turns around, the shirt they're wearing says 'Price Told You So' on the back*

-------

Ghost: I just ended a four year relationship.

Soap: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

Ghost: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship.

*Gaz and Price fighting from across the room*

-------

Ghost: This is bothering me.

Soap: Well, you are digging up a corpse.

Ghost: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

-------

Ghost: Can you please be serious for five minutes?

Soap: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

-------

Ghost: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside

Soap:

Soap: Ghost, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn...

Ghost: *Sips tea from bowl*

-------

Ghost: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died-

Soap: Twelve, actually.

Ghost: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that?

Soap: Yours!

Ghost: That's right: no one's.

-------

Ghost: Soap was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some.

Soap: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it.

Ghost: Soap, you ate a chair

--------

Ghost: Do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didn’t Notice It?

Soap: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!!

Ghost: Yknow what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but I’m glad I could be an inspiration.

-------

Ghost: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail

Soap: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

-------

Ghost: What is your biggest weakness?

Soap: I can be uncooperative.

Ghost: Okay, can you give me an example?

Soap: No.

-------

Ghost: It’s dark in here

Soap: Don’t worry dude I got this

Soap: *Stomps his feet*

Soap: *Skechers light up*

-------

Ghost: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you

Soap: 10 times 0 is still 0 though

Ghost: Jokes on you, I can't do math

-------

Ghost, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.

Soap: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!

Ghost, with the tone of someone who is used to Soap: Outstanding.

Ghost: This is what I’m talking about people.

-------

Ghost: You saved me. I owe you my life.

Soap: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

-------

Ghost: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Soap: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

-------

Soap: Am I in trouble?

Ghost: Take a guess.

Soap: No?

Ghost: Take another guess.

-------

Soap: Remember when you didn't try to solve all your problems with attempted murder?

Ghost: Stop romanticizing the past.

-------

Ghost: I'm a reverse necromancer.

Soap: Isn't that just killing people?

Ghost: Ah, technicality.

-------

Soap: I can explain.

Ghost: Can you?

Soap: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

-------

Ghost: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.

Soap: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.

Price: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghoap #ghostsoap #im having writers block so take this brainrot in my momentary abscence #call of duty incorrect quotes #cod incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #ghost x soap

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thesuperheroeater · 1 year ago

Text

Post Workout Snack

It's late in evening when you head for the dressing rooms to change after your daily workout at the local gym. When you enter, you notice that there aren't many people left. Just one, in fact. And not the least, it's Chris Hemsworth, your favorite celebrity and crush. When he turns his gaze towards you, you can't help but smile stupidly, and give him a shy wave. It makes him smile. He greets you and goes back to removing his clothes from his locker. You did the same.

Later, when you emerge from the showers, you're faced with the actor sitting on the bench. He didn't change his outfit, as he's still wearing his short and sweaty T-shirt. With your towel around your waist, you walk past him, looking at him discreetly.

Once you've slipped on your wedges, the actor starts talking to you. It suprised you at first, but you quickly turn to listen.

''You know, I couldn't help noticing how much you're checking me out.'' You blush with embarrassment. He noticed. You feel so ashamed to have done it.

''Sorry, Mr Hemsworth. I- I...was just-'' As you try to come up with an excuse, Chris Hemsworth cuts you off.

''Don't bother, you're far from the only one looking at me, with drool sliding down your shin.'' He adds a cocky smile, which makes you smile stupidly, wiping your mouth to be sure. ''I don't mind actualy, I know I got a hot body. That said, I'd like a little help with this. If you don't mind?''

''Yes! Of course!'' You don't even know what he's asking that you already agree.

''Good.'' That's all he answers before taking off his top, revealing his swollen muscles. His pecs so voluptuous and his abs so pronounced. You can even see the drops of sweat running down the curves of his godly body. Making his muscle shine. He even flexes his muscles in front of you, inflating his bisceps even more. Unconsciously, you salivate at the sight.

''Wow...'' The word escapes your mouth.

He laughs slightly. ''After a long day of sport, my body's all tense and could use some help relaxing. And seeing all the saliva you produce just by looking at me, I'm sure your tongue would be perfect for that. So, shall we get started?'' he finishes by raising his arm to reveal his moist armpits.

You can't believe what you're hearing. Chris Hemsworth wants you to lick his body!? You don't waste another second and get right under his arm, stick out your tongue and start working his armpits. They're so wet and hairy. And that smell is so captivating! The appetite with which you lick them makes the Australian laugh. "Hungry little whore...''

With his hand he grabs a handful of your hair and directs your head all over his body. This way, for several long minutes, you cover Hemsworth's divine body with your saliva. His armpits, his nipples, his abs, his biceps and much more! Once he considers the job well done, he brings your face closer to his and starts to kiss you. It makes you lose your mind... It must be a dream, you think. He quickly breaks the kiss, which makes you wimper. ''Nice work, slut.'' With those words he drops his shorts and briefs, revealing his huge cock.

You look at it in amazement, but without wasting any more time Chris, lowers your head in front of his cock. And in impales the whole thing in the hollow of your mouth. You choke as you feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. It so big, it's stretching out your throat. Suddenly he's brutally thrusting into your hole. You feel your face turning red from lack of air, but you still take it, like the good slut you are.

After a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity, he withdraws his entire cock from your mouth, leaving you to recover your breath. ''I'm liking you.'' He confess to you while he hits you with his big cock in the face.

As you recover your breath. He sits down on the bench behind him, takes his shoe off and lifts his bare foot, placing it directly on your face. Carried away by pleasure, you don't think twice and immediately start sniffing and licking it, as if it was your only purpose. Making sure to pass by each curve and each toe.

Seeing how quickly you apply yourself to the job, he quickly places his second foot on your face. He even manages to push your body to the ground, so that he's more comfortable stepping on you, while you laying flat on the floor.

Some long minutes later, his feet are as clean as they are shining with saliva. He then considers the job done and removes his feet from your face, causing you to grunt for having nothing to lick anymore. ''I like you. I think I'll keep you.'' He says with a mischievous grin.

That's when he grabs you on both sides with his big, firm hands to lift you from the ground. You don't panic, as you're lost in the pleasure, and just wait with bated breath for the next humilation. But your anticipation soon turns to panic as you see his mouth widen. Naturally, you come to your senses and struggle, begging him to let go. But all you get from him is a mischievous grin before your head dives into the depts of his big mouth.

He takes several hungry gulps, which bring even more of your body insde him. your shoulders followed by by your torso. The saliva accumulated around your body makes you slide in with ease, till only your wiggling legs are left. So so tiny next to him, that he slurps your legs down his throat, making your feet disapear behind his lips. A few extra gulps and you find your way down his acid thank. As the gastric juice start to rize, you punch against the walls in hope to get yourself free, but all it leads to, is the handsome australian letting a huge belch escaping his lips.

*BBBBbbbuuuUUUUUuuuu-uuuUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPPPppppp!!!*

''I knew you'd make an excellent post-workout snack...'' He speaks out with a slap on his swollen gut.

#Celeb Vore #Chris Hemsworth Vore #Oral Vore #Unwilling

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artemis-73 · 29 days ago

Text

Suptober Day 15: Sigils

By the time Dean gets back to the hospital, Mary is sitting up and begging her parents for a pudding cup. Her skin looks less sallow, her eye bags less pronounced. Dean knows that Castiel made good on his deal. The test results that come in over the next three days prove it. By the end of the week, Mary's back home.

Everyone says it's a miracle. A gift from God.

If Dean sends a thanks to Castiel through prayer, he's the only one who has to know. He's not even sure if demons can hear prayers.

Then with that uncanny itch under his skin that tells him the crossroads won't be the last time he sees the demon, he gets to researching. He knows he can't waylay his debt. In ten years, he'll die. But before that, he needs to keep the demon away from him and his family. Kansas State University's library has a small collection of scans of old religious texts. Some of them have pages of sigils they claim will keep all manner of creatures away.

He paints them behind the pictures that hang on his walls and carves them into the window sills. He puts a devil's trap under the welcome mat. He even gets a tattoo of the symbol that claims to ward against possession. It's small and hidden on his hip. He almost feels safer with it.

When he comes up for air, he finds Sam and Jess have adjusted to a new normal. Mary doesn't need them as much, and at a sage nine years old, she wants some space. For the first time in years, she has sleepovers with friends and gets to go on field trips. It takes almost six months for her to demand a weekend at Uncle Dean's. He doesn't take it personally; for a long time, he was just an extension of her parents, a safe place for her to stay if Sam and Jess were both busy.

Now, she gets to eat too much pizza and stay up past her bedtime. She's on her third slice—impressive for her size—when she blinks big blue eyes up at Dean and says," Thank you, Uncle Dean."

"For what, kiddo?" he asks absentmindedly. He might be a little too invested in Frozen 2.

"For getting the angel to heal me."

His blood runs like ice in his veins. "What angel?"

"Cassie-el." She trips over the name, but she says it like Dean should just know, and he does. He does. "Mommy and Daddy were in the hallway talking to Nurse Layla, and he sat on my bed and said you talked to him all about me and that you loved me so much he wanted to heal me for you. And then he touched my forehead—" She places two greasy fingers above Dean's right eyebrow. "—and I felt all better…except I was hungry."

"Have you seen him since the hospital?"

"No," she says around a mouthful of pizza. Then she turns back to the TV, like she didn't just send Dean's world reeling. He wrangles her into a crushing embrace that she whines and wiggles her way out of.

She doesn't say another word about it, and he can't bring himself to push, so he sits staring at the TV but not seeing a damn thing. She's half asleep by the time the movie ends, and it takes some convincing to get her to brush her teeth and wash her face, but finally, he tucks her into bed in the guest room.

With his mind still a 100 miles away at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere, he cleans up the living room. He's straightening the pillows on the couch when he feels it. He's not alone.

"Next time you start messing with sigils, make sure the scan is high enough quality to get all the details right."

Castiel is standing by the window, tracing one of the carvings with his finger. He looks the same: rumpled over-sized suit and sex hair.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asks. He angles himself so he's between Castiel and the hallway that leads to the guest room.

Castiel watches him shuffle across the room with what Dean thinks might be amusement. "I won't bother her. She's not who I'm here to see."

"Well, forgive me for being a little suspicious. First time she's spending the night, and suddenly you show up?"

"Oh, that's a coincidence. Our schedules just happened to line up."

Dean's not sure how he knows the demon's lying, but he feels it in his gut. And when Castiel's eyes dart around the room, he almost think it's not malicious.

"What do you want, Castiel?"

"A new boss, a branch transfer, some reprieve from the paper pushing…" He slips the tie from around his neck and crumples it in one pocket. As he undoes the top two buttons on his shirt, he says, "But I'd settle for a beer."

Dean weighs his options—he doesn't have many—and considers the time. He'd just be sitting up alone anyway.

"Fine. One beer. Then you leave."

Castiel ignores him, opting instead to start rooting through his movie collection. Dean leaves him to it. He grabs a couple of beers as quickly as he can. He's not a complete idiot; he's still wary of leaving the demon alone in his home, especially with Mary.

"You can stop worrying about her," Castiel says as he takes the offered beer. "I'm not going to hurt her. Or you, but you seem strangely unconcerned about that part."

"Forgive me for not believing a demon."

"I haven't lied to you yet."

"That I know of."

In a surprisingly human gesture, Castiel rolls his eyes. "You humans are so suspicious."

"You did short my dad eight years."

"I didn't lie to him for that. I told him if he wanted more, he needed to give more, and he agreed gladly… Or as gladly as I imagine he did anything. He was a miserable asshole, wasn't he?"

Dean grits his teeth. "Don't talk about my dad like that."

"You know, when John Winchester's son summoned me, I thought I knew exactly what kind of man I'd find. You are nothing like him. It's almost a shame to only give you ten years."

"Hey, if you want to give me more, I won't complain." Dean's voice wobbles strangely. He doesn't like the way Castiel almost sounds fond of him.

"Sadly, I can take more years, but I can't give them." Castiel actually seems disappointed. He shakes himself. "Let me fix the sigils."

"What, you trying to keep yourself out?"

The way Castiel looks at him makes him feel like a baby bird staring up at a hawk. "None of these will bother me," Castiel says finally. "Besides, there are things far worse for you out there."

Dean watches as Castiel fixes all the sigils he'd put up. He even does the ones in the guest room, and Mary doesn't so much as twitch in her sleep while he does. He adds some more and ignores Dean's questions about what they're warding against.

They're back in the living room, and memories of their first meeting are nipping at his heels when Dean says, "Thank you, by the way. For…you know."

"For Mary? No thanks needed. You did sell your soul for her. Besides, I heard your prayer."

"Oh. I wasn't sure if you would."

Castiel smiles then ducks his head to try to hide it. "Yes, well, I did." He fiddles with his half-empty beer bottle.

When they'd first met, in the middle of the night at a crossroads, Dean had known Castiel's eyes were blue. But now, standing in his living room with the lamp beside the couch on, he can appreciate the exact shade, like a summer day when the sun's just hot enough to bleach the sky a lighter blue.

He practically leaps backwards. He's not sure when or how they ended up so close to each other in the middle of the room. He pretends to study the sigils on the windowsill—the same one Castiel had been tracing not an hour before, he realizes belatedly. He can feel Castiel behind him. He knows that Castiel has gone back to looking at his movie collection. He closes his eyes and starts counting down from ten. When he gets to one, he'll kick Castiel out.

He gets to five when Castiel asks, "Is this any good?"

Dean turns to find him holding up a copy of Tombstone. He can't help but scoff. "Is it any good? It's one of the greatest Westerns ever made, man."

Castiel hums thoughtfully and goes back to studying the cover. And the thing is, it shouldn't matter. The demon can watch an old Western on his own time in his own cozy little corner of hell.

But.

But Dean loves showing people Tombstone, and he's never gonna say no to a rewatch. They sit on either end of the couch and burn through an entire six pack before the posse is even formed. Castiel's focus never wavers from the screen. It's like he's expecting there to be an exam at the end of it. Dean's pretty sure he spends more time watching Castiel than the movie.

He nods off before Doc kills Ringo. The last thing he remembers is Castiel taking the beer bottle from his hand. He wakes up the next morning in his bed with a glass of water on his nightstand.

#why yes this is a continuation of day 11 #I am allergic to one shots and leaving things lie #and yes I have vague plans to do one more installment because I need Dean to call Cas Cas AND for Cas to see Dean's antipossession tat #suptober #suptober24 #superntural #short ficlet #destiel

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reinekinthos · 1 year ago

Text

fine milkers — about sirius, obsessing over her moony's tits (pt.2) pt.1 here

lesbian wolfstar | hogwarts | getting together | it will definitely get explicit.

—

“She's so beautiful Jamie, her hair smells like… apples. How can her hair smell like apples?”

Sirius might as well have hearts beating out of her eyes. Jamie lifts hers to the ceiling in a silent prayer for fortitude as her best friend keeps talking. “Her tits... they are so—“ big. Sirius doesn't finish her sentence. Instead, she makes a vague vulgar hand gesture around her chest, as if she is holding onto two Bludgers.

Jamie wrinkles her nose but can’t help but laugh. Remus' breasts are huge, and Sirius has wanted to get her mouth on them for a long time now. This is not new information.

Sirius wails.

“Don't laugh at me!” Sirius leans over the table, smacking the side of Jamie’s head. “How could you be so cruel to your best friend? Have some sympathy— I'm in love with a straight girl!”

Jamie outright cackles at this. “You daft pillock.”

Sirius is not a daft pillock, thank you very much. Jamie Potter's just a bitch.

“What about Moony makes you think “this is a heterosexual woman”? Are you blind?”

Sirius narrows her eyes into a disdainful stance. “What are you talking about?”

Jamie shrugs. “Moony is a lesbian. Everybody knows. Probably even McGonagall,” she pretends to think for a second. “Kreacher too.”

Sirius makes a face. “How would Krea—Moony is not into women. If she was, Binns would have looked for a Sirius Lupin when he called the roll earlier.”

“You are so embarrassing,” Jamie informs her. “It’s been years, just ask her if she wants to shag already.”

Sirius kicks her.

It is not just a physical thing. Sirius loves Remus. Loves her patience. Her maturity. Her unperturbed calm. Her unwitting eroticism. Her unearthly, lunar beauty. Her secret, hidden pain. She loves Remus. She wants Remus.

Sexually, obviously. But there's… a strong romantic component to that want, too. She wants to date her. To take her to Hogsmeade and hold her hand. To stargaze together. To blow her a kiss from the pitch after a successful Quidditch match. To cuddle her. To fall asleep in her arms.

It's not just about wanting to shove her up against a wall and get a hand inside her knickers.

“Okay, fine, ask for her hand in marriage already!”

When Jamie opens her mouth to add something, Sirius can only imagine it will be another lie, Binns scoffs from the other side of the room and Sirius doesn't have the strength to pretend to not be guilty.

The professor, with an irritated expression on his face, swings his arm to point in their direction and says, “what are you doing there in the last row, laughing?”

He pronounces the word “laughing” with the same tone someone else might use to say “torturing half—bloods” or “summoning evil spirits”.

Since Sirius can't be bothered to answer, it's Jamie who stands up to speak. “Well, Professor, it’s true that we were laughing. You should know that we were laughing because, in fact, we found the subject we were discussing amusing, but there was nothing life-threatening or legally actionable in our amusement, I assure you...”

Sirius can see three rows ahead Remus slapping herself in mortification.

James is still talking. “… Now, it’s clear to me as to anyone else that has been laughing loudly and uninterruptedly for the entire class period that this might suggest that we were being inattentive, or insolent, or even cheerfully moronic, but I myself find that a bit of drollery in this austere context does the heart good and therefore, necessarily, only deepens the joy of learning. As for the relationship between laughter and the Second Goblin Revolution…”

He doesn’t let Jamie complete her thought. Binns barks: “Cut it out, Potter!” and luckily the bell rings.

Remus waits for them leaning against the wall outside the class with her trademark expression of disapproval. It makes her look like a disappointed mum.

Sirius giggles at the thought. If Remus was a lesbian, they would be already married and Remus would be pregnant with their third child — Sir Padfoot III Lupin Black.

“Had fun?” she asks when Sirius approaches her and presses her forearm against the wall above Remus' head. Remus' hair is in a high bun with a few pieces framing her face delicately. So pretty, Sirius thinks, absolutely besotted.

Too bad Remus is probably thinking that she is a buffoon.

“Not really,” Sirius says, trying not to blush at the way Remus peers up at her through her thick, dark lashes. Sirius plays absentmindedly with a tear in her skirt. “We were talking about you.”

“About me?” Remus gives her a sidelong glance, and Sirius giggles.

Remus' lip twitches at the sound. Sirius reaches out to poke her waist playfully before settling back onto her previous position; as they lounge lazily in the hallway the students split up towards their next classes. Sirius watches Jamie wink at her suggestively as she leaves for practice with Mary and Marlene.

Sirius hums, barely acknowledging Jamie's antics to not encourage her. “Prongs think you’re a lesbian. Don’t worry, I told her you aren’t.”

Remus stills and Sirius looks around to see if someone casted a freezing charm. “Why would I worry?” she shifts, turning her head towards Sirius and staring curiously.

“I know you’re not homophobic or anything, I didn’t mean it like that,” Sirius rushes to assure.

Remus looks conflicted for a moment. “No, I mean,” she says slowly. “Why would I worry? It’s true.”

Sirius lets out an awkward laugh before the meaning of her words actually hit her and she freezes as she is.

“Huh?” she asks dumbly.

“I am a lesbian,” Remus says slowly again, like when she had to explain to Sirius how muggle currency works.

“What?”

“I’m a lesbian,” Remus repeats. No one moves. “I don’t hide it.” The way she says it makes it sound like she thinks she's quite obvious about it.

Her eyes remain on Sirius' frozen face until they hear a student scream somewhere behind them.

The student can die, for all Sirius cares right now.

“I— I didn’t know?” she stares silently at Remus wondering what she's thinking. Her ears have gone pink and her chest goes up and down gently with her breaths. Sirius has to force herself not to stare at her tits.

Suddenly she feels like their entire friendship has changed, she sees everything through a different lens. It all has a different context now.

A lesbian? Remus is a lesbian? Sirius could have been worshiping her body this entire time, but she hadn’t been? Granted, being a lesbian didn’t mean Remus reciprocated her feelings, but still!

She could have been seducing Remus this entire time and what was she doing? Calling her tits fine milkers?!

“I—I thought you knew and that you have been just teasing me about it,” Remus says.

Sirius shakes her head but says nothing.

Remus sighs. “Listen, it changes nothing. I know you were just joking— it’s not like I've ever taken it seriously...”

It changes everything.

“… Or taken you seriously.”

Sirius can’t think of a good reason they’re not scissoring instead of having this conversation. She exhales sharply.

Finally Remus smiles tentatively and says: “Alright, I’m glad we had this talk.”

Sirius feels a bit like she’s floating but she nods nevertheless.

She covers her eyes with one hand as Remus leaves. She thinks of her challenging look as she repeated “I am a lesbian” as if she was waiting for Sirius to do something about it.

Well, Sirius feels the inexplicable urge to do something about it; to grab Remus’ hand, drag her in their dorm room, throw her down onto the floor and eat her alive.

Sirius swallows, her eyes huge.

She wants to yell it at Remus right now, hey guess what, I love you, but she can’t do it yet. Can’t do it like this, as Remus is walking away down the hallway and they can clearly hear a Gryffindor shooting hexes at Snape. Jamie, probably.

She rubs at her eyes, lets the warm feeling in her chest pool outward. Yeah, she knows what she has to do.

Despite making a life-altering decision, nothing much changes over the next few days. Sirius goes to class as normal, but she feels a lot farther from the emotional mess she’s been before.

Something different has begun sparking in her chest after an undetermined period of time. It takes awhile for her to pinpoint what it is, and when she does, she blushes like a stupid.

It’s excitement.

There’s nothing wrong with being excited.

She’s looking forward to declaring her undying love to Remus, and that’s normal. Well, not entirely normal; Sirius envisioned a few concessions that she will never recount, even under threat of death, but still. It’s mostly normal.

What do people do to show their affection? Sirius is tempted to search for answers in the library, but she doesn’t think her pride would ever recover.

She’s a simple woman. Remus knows this. And there’s no way she would be able to misinterpret the gesture of Sirius showing up with chocolate.

When she goes to Jamie for advice, her best friend laughs in her face, reminding her that she has been gifting Remus chocolate since they were eleven. It won’t take her anywhere.

Sirius wants to do something nice. A little bit romantic, maybe, if she dares to use the word. Something to show Remus how much she cares.

Jamie is more practical, seduce her, she tells her. “She already knows that you love her. You transform into a dog for her. What’s missing is seduction.”

Seduction?

Seduction.

#wolfstar #lesbian wolfstar #sapphic #sirius black #fem sirius black #fem remus lupin #reinekinthos writing #remus x sirius #marauders

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eluxcastar · 2 years ago

Note

Can i request Capitano x short s/o pls :') about 5'2 and hes 6'6 i think , reader would be flustered whenever she ask him for something in a high shelf

Capitano with a short s/o

── ୨୧：il capitano x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: just some little cuties aka a malewife getting his ankles threatened by a gremlin who needs to borrow some height from him

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, angry gremlins /j

୨୧﹑words :: 657

as the 6'0 half of this arrangement yes also this is tagged gn reader despite the she/her pronounce in the request because I never had to mention gendered anything 👍 just some word vomit to feed the Capitano likers

unfortunately the two of you seem to have opposite problems, while you can't reach the high shelves Capitano will store the strangest things on, all of which you seem to coincidentally need at random points in the day. it's always awkward to ask, even knowing that he knows there's no way you can get to it (_ _;)

it barely lessens your embarrassment when he asks you to get things from the lower shelves and cabinets in the kitchen, finding it hard to get down on the floor all the time. you understand it's also awkward for him, but at least he could feasibly crouch down. you don't even have that kind of wonderful excuse. he rarely even asks anyway, only after a day of strenuous training and exercise when his muscles are somehow sore despite him doing that every other day. you don't doubt him but you do wonder what determines his limit

again in the kitchen needing a glass from the high cupboard, you try your best to stretch on your toes, fingers barely grazing that stubborn glass you want. whose idea was it to put those up there?

before you even get a chance to turn and quietly get a chair to avoid the humiliation of simply asking for help (god forbid) you're faced with Capitano watching you from a few feet away and almost jump out of your skin at how startled you were. you always hear him come in but just that one time he'd snuck up on you. what do you say now? 'oh hi honey move now so I can tell you silently that I can't reach instead of verbally'. that's a bad way to phrase that.

"Do you need me to get that?" he asks and you try your best not to look at him to avoid seeing the face he's making. you know in the rational part of your mind he isn't bothered and you're the only one overthinking this. he doesn't care, it's a simple as raising his arm barely above his head and lowering it back down.

unfortunately the rational part of your mind is rather quiet and pales in comparison to the one telling you to say no (-.-)

"I can get it myself." you tell him without even thinking. no you can't. you're still avoiding looking at him, just this time it's so he doesn't see the face you're making. "…but since you're offering anyway."

before you can even explain what you want the glass is on the counter by your side and he's placing a kiss on your temple as he passes you to grab something behind you.

damn him for always getting away with this (╥╯^╰╥) you could just chop his ankles off and steal them

you would however much rather steal his ankles whenever you try to kiss him in public, not exactly the most romantic experience when you probably need a chair for that too. you seldom kiss him at work when he's not sitting down just so that his coworkers won't witness you trying to get up on your toes just to kiss some helmet metal. even though he's irritatingly tall you wait until you go home to take it off, never at work out of respect however it does mean that kissing him won't receive a kiss back.

does he ever think of how strange it is to have to manhandle him down to your height just to avoid asking him to bend over for you? probably not when he can just lean down and carry on his day afterwards. you won't stand such embarrassment in front of his colleagues, you'd rather almost whack your head into said helmet metal

you do get back at him though, like using him as a pillow, and he always has to be the big spoon because there's no point in you ever trying (︶^︶) he'll just have to cuddle you

#✦ — headcanons.#✦ — fluff.#♡ — anon visit.#capitano #il capitano #genshin capitano #capitano x reader #il capitano x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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fishys-still-writing-smut · 8 months ago

Note

PJ’s Kaede AND Miu… with Kokichi walking in on the fat assed gyaru’s 🤭

Warning: lewd content below

“My my my, what do we have here?”

“W-what the hell are you doing twerp?!?” Miu was shocked at Kokichi's sudden entrance. Both her and Kaede were completely bottomless, the pianist even bent over at the time he barged in.

“I was bored, so I decided to go lock picking. And aren't I lucky. You both need my help after all.” He used both of his hands to slap both blonde’s asses before gripping them with a surprising amount of force. “How about I help you both put those pajamas on?”

—------

“This isn't helping, this is anal sex!”

“Whoops, my bad! Silly me.” Kokichi said with an evil smirk as he continued to ram Miu's asshole with his cock. The inventor was bent over with her face against her mattress as she lifted her ass up in the air for Kokichi's personal use. Meanwhile, Kaede layed down under the pair, using her mouth to service Kokichi's nuts. She sucked in his ball sack while massaging her breasts, patiently waiting her turn.

“Fuck. You're so fucking big. Fuck me harder!” Miu begged as she received a pounding like never before. She screamed into the bed while gripping the sheets tight.

“Huh? Close already slut? I barely even started.” While teasing her Kokichi began rubbing her pussy. He increased his pace and fucked her faster while at the same time using his skilled fingers to massage Miu's pussy. It all overwhelmed the poor girl until-

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” Miu screamed as she came all over Kokichi's fingers. Kokichi slowly pulled out, allowing the bitch to slump down on the bed as she panted heavily.

“That just leaves you.” Kokichi licked his lips as he turned to his left. Kaede, who had previously been pleasuring him, was on all fours, twerking her fat ass like a prooer porn star. She gave herself a nice hard spank before winking, openly inviting herself to be dominated.

—---------

“Oh my god you're amazing!” Kaede cried as she rode Kokichi's cock. She didn't bother with the illusion that he would help her put on clothes, so she simply threw them on to a sleeping Miu’s body. Now she could ride him with reckless abandon, while also giving him a pretty nice view of her ass.

“Wow, even thought I'm fucking your pussy your still waaaaay tighter than the cum dumpster sleeping over there.” Kokichi snickered as he laid back and watched as the bimbo broke herself on his thick dick.

“R-really? T-thank you. Please, praise me more.” Kaede bashfully requested, feeling a new sick fetish unlock within her.

“What's the magic word?”

“F-faster!”

“Good girl.” Kokichi smirked as Kaede increased her pace for him, panting like a dog. “Let's see, you got the thickest ass on campus. And also the biggest boobs that look ever larger in that slutty vest of yours. Plus, I now know for sure that your pussy is waaay better than that other slut. No wonder every guy wants to fuck you!”

“E-every guy?”

“Oh yeah. If you're really a slut for praise just ask. I bet you could even convince them to share if it means a chance to use your sexy body. Although…” Kokichi suddenly began rapidly thrusting inside of Kaede. “I'm claiming you first!”

“Yes! Fuck me! I'm in love with your big dick!”

“You're going to love what comes out of it more~.”

“Yes. Oh my god. Fuck I'm so close. Please cum in me. Cuminmecuminmecuminmecuminme!”

Splurt!

Kaede's constant begging was rewarded as she felt Kokichi's warm cum shoot inside of her. She fell off his dick and laid on her back, still high off the experience. She was still orgasming from the sensation of having his load inside of her. Kokichi took a good look at the gyarus before laughing maniacally. He had the best idea.

—--------

“I-I can't believe we're doing this.” Miu blushed as the three walked to class together. Kokichi's genius idea was for them to walk to school together wearing matching pajamas. And just pajamas. Miu blushed at people staring at her more pronounced rack, her hard nipples visible through the cheap fabric.

“I-I don't completely hate it.” Kaede muttered. She'd already received 9 cat calls, 6 whistles, 5 “damn”’s, 2 surprise spanks and chest gropes, and someone even pantsed her! As a newly realized attention whore, she was loving Kokichi's idea way more than she was willing to admit.

“C'mon, it's not that bad.” Kokichi smirked. The main reason the girls agreed was because Kokichi also went without underwear today, his meaty cock bulge clearly visible and only guarded by a single thing button. “Besides, I can even show off the new symbols of friendship we got.” With one fell swoop, Kokichi pulled down both of their pants, to reveal their new ass tattoos. One word on each cheek that read:

“Kokichi's property.”

Despite Kokichi's reputation, you had to give it to him here; he definitely wasn't lying about that!

#danganronpa smut #decadence-asks #DRoums-18 #DRiruma-18 #DRakamatsu-18

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gaoau · 10 months ago

Text

shaken with ice

Straight-Up warnings — none. word count — 3.2k

next.

Izana sits on a bench as he recognizes he's been burnt down to ashes by himself. If fraternal love was all he had, then why did he actively destroy it? All because he couldn't handle the scorching, sour truth of not properly belonging. He sits and wonders why nothing ever happens anymore now that Shinichiro is dead. He wonders why the world moves on and keeps turning, but everything around him remains impossibly still. He took as much as he could from his brother to build himself around Shinichiro's love, yet he's been left with nothing but an empty hole in his chest. He sits and wonders why he needs a random fourteen-year-old to force him out of his rut—still, his surroundings stay monochrome.

Izana sits on a rooftop as he wonders what it is about being isolated that harms him so much, to the point he can't even acknowledge it. He finds his strength better when being by himself, so isolation should be his best friend, right? Right? He's been alone and abandoned his whole life, so Shinichiro leaving him behind should be no different. He has no one to understand him, no one to keep up with him, no one to sympathize with him—he has no one to be as empty as him.

He doesn't bother looking at Kisaki while he explains his schemes. For a moment, he considered maybe Kisaki would do, but his malice can only fill up so much of his heart and nothing more. It's not what he wants. It's not what he needs. He allows Kisaki to use him as much as he pleases; so long as their objectives align, he doesn't mind playing his part to regain what he's lost. It's only been a few days since they started making their moves to build Tenjiku into the perfect opponent for Toman. Kisaki talks and talks, smoothing out the logistics of this convoluted plan. It's dreadfully boring and it feels like nothing is happening at all.

Izana isn't sure if he hates to admit this or not, but he's surprised when he hears the door to the rooftop open behind them. As far as he's concerned, no one should be coming up here for anything. The click of the lock comes accompanied by a muffled voice he's never heard before, grumbling, "What the fuck are you making me climb all those stairs for?" There's an edge in the tone and a faint drawl on the corners of the sentence. Izana cranes his neck back to find hooded eyes that match the boredom dripping from their every syllable.

He knows these nonchalant eyes—not exactly. He's seen this bored gaze before, he's seen this bored girl before. At least once or twice, sharing a few words with Kisaki before exchanging money. This is, however, the first time he's close enough to hear her speak. The black mask covering her face moves with every word she pronounces. He thinks, somewhere, in the corner of his mind, that it's amusing how her monotone voice fits her empty demeanor perfectly. His attention is trained on her as she marches up to Kisaki without bothering to glance at the other three people on this rooftop.

Izana catches Kisaki rolling his eyes in annoyance while turning towards this newcomer. "Your report, of course," is all he replies with, lips curling into a scowl.

There's a faint twitch in her brows, hooded lids narrowing just a bit more. It's interesting how a millimeter can change her expression from awfully bored to mildly irritated. "Can't I do it over the phone? The train fare's expensive."

"Do you want your pay or not?"

Her face returns to its passive neutrality, but Izana easily takes notice of one of her brows arching higher than the other. "With the agreed bonus, I'm assuming."

With a nudge into Hanma's gut, Kisaki nods towards [Name]. Almost instantly, a sickening grin grows on Hanma's face and a low chuckle tumbles from his tongue. He pulls crumpled yen notes out from his uniform pocket, carelessly dropping them onto her open palm. Izana wants to laugh at how easy it is to give him orders without exchanging a single word. [Name] visibly cringes, brows bunching up, and steps away from Hanma before she accidentally breathes in his insanity. She busies herself with smoothing out the money to make sure her bonus is intact. Kisaki glares her down.

Silence hangs for longer than any of them tend to tolerate. The bills move swiftly in her hands as she counts, "…six, seven, eight, nine thousand. Good."

"I'm waiting, [Name]."

She sighs, folding her pay neatly and saving it in her jacket pocket. Then she looks Kisaki in the eye. "I dropped her off at her place before hopping on the train. Hanagaki-kun was there at her door, looked kinda fucked up." She doesn't miss the disgruntled scowl twisting behind his glasses. She contemplates her next words briefly. She has her pay anyway, he's not going to try and raise his hand at her. Her lips curl into an amused grin underneath her mask. Izana notices her eyes narrowing as she looks down on Kisaki. "He doesn't look half bad with his hair down; I can see the appeal."

"Stay on topic," he clips immediately.

A chuckle escapes her, oddly flippant for someone that must know how Kisaki operates. She continues, "She got the first-aid and patched him up outside. From what she's told me, her father still isn't all that cool with delinquents." She scans him up and down for a moment. "By the way, your call almost blew my cover."

"I told you not to save my number."

"I didn't." She rolls her eyes, but they remain as bored as when she walked out here. "I was busy eavesdropping on 'em when you rang me up."

"How long ago was this?"

"Fifty minutes, give or take."

"You left them there alone?"

"Yeah?"

Kisaki has heard enough, it seems, as he shoos her away with his hand. "Report back tomorrow, too." He doesn't wait for her to give him even a measly nod of confirmation and turns back to Izana to finish their earlier one-sided conversation.

A shrug bounces off her left shoulder. "Sure," she pronounces with that flat monotone, dripping in dreadful boredom. Without so much as a polite goodbye, [Name] saunters her way towards the door. Izana keeps his eyes latched onto her back until she disappears into the building. Her nonchalance, her sheer uninterest vibrates against his brain in camaraderie.

It's not every day that [Name] goes on a small trip to Yokohama just to earn some cash, but it is fairly often. Izana cannot wrap his head around an empty space becoming emptier simply because she isn't around. He believes he can hear her monotone voice all the way from Shibuya. As soon as she shows up and snarls a few words at Kisaki, his eyes locate and stick to her. It's almost appalling to have to endure her flippant gaze being bored in his kingdom.

Izana is, admittedly, curious, for lack of a better word. He knows very well his own reasons for being empty and bored and saturated with his unmoving surroundings, but why her? Why [Name]? Why is she here? Why is she bored? Why does she work for Kisaki? Why does nothing ever happen for her either? He's heard Kisaki complain about her plenty of times, making mention of how obnoxious her nonchalant demeanor is and how much it grates on his nerves. He keeps her around because she's useful to him. Izana understands that. He doesn't understand [Name].

Kisaki makes her wait, Kisaki addresses her like she's a slave, Kisaki uses Hanma against her, Kisaki orders her around without regards. Izana can see it in those inexpressive eyes, that she absolutely despises Kisaki more than he despises Sano Manjiro. He watches from afar as she pulls down her mask briefly. Her flat lips are painted a dark color he can't distinguish when she's sitting this far away—it might be black as much as it might not be. From her jacket pocket, she produces a small yellow ball. It disappears into her mouth and her mask is back up in a matter of seconds. A few minutes later, she repeats it all over again.

Izana is, not admittedly, very curious. He listens in on their conversation when Kisaki approaches her to discuss business again. Her mask moves as she speaks. Kisaki is the only person she's familiar with around here, surrounded by Tenjiku gang members, but she remains hostile while glaring at him like she wants to smash his glasses into his face.

"Did you talk to him like I said?" Kisaki asks her sharply.

[Name] rolls her eyes, sighing in exasperation, "Yeah, said something 'bout wanting to save someone. I'm guessing that's Hinata-chan?" Her inflection rises in a monotone question. By the look on her face, she isn't even interested in knowing who lives and who dies as long as she gets her money.

"Anything else?"

"He fucking hates you." Her eyes narrow. Izana thinks there's a smirk on her flat lips behind that mask. "He's ready to beat you into oblivion, so watch your back, ATM."

"Don't tell me what to do; that's not what I pay you for." A faint frown settles on her brows at his words. If not Hanagaki, [Name] looks ready to beat Kisaki into oblivion herself before he can think about acting snarky again. Izana wants to know why she bothers showing up. "Keep Tachibana busy. Don't let her see Hanagaki that often anymore until this settles down." That's his last order of the day. He hands her a few bills and leaves her on her seat.

She nods her head automatically, muttering, "Sure," as she lifts her middle finger up at his retreating back. Izana keeps his eyes stuck to her while she slips another yellow ball into her mouth, counting the numbers on her pay. He is, admittedly, interested. This mirroring emptiness is something he wants to have. The nonchalance in her narrowed eyes becomes twisted in his clouded brain when he can't rationalize why nothing ever happens for her either.

[Name] finds this extremely annoying, but she's not exactly willing to do anything about it. She keeps getting calls from Kisaki at random, asking her to take a forty-minute train ride just to give a report. Why he's decided to base this new gang of his in Yokohama is beyond her and she doesn't care to ask. The issue is the burning, piercing discomfort stabbing her on the back of her head. Clearly, there's someone who's got their eyes on her, but considering she's surrounded by feral scumbags that could easily snap her in half if they wanted to, she knows better than to look around and figure out who it is.

It happens every single time she hangs around for a while, which says a lot when it's only been two weeks since Tenjiku became a thing. It gets increasingly more obnoxious, but she really doesn't want to take her chances and make eye contact with someone that will stab her for the hell of it. She remains bored at her surroundings, remains flippant towards Kisaki's threats, remains nodding her head and going along with whatever plays out in front of her. Then Tenjiku's head enters her field of vision, unprovoked. She figures if she had checked earlier, she would have been better prepared for his swallowing eyes staring at her so intently.

Izana has considered actively asking Kisaki about this little dog that runs around for him to have eyes where he can't casually see. He doesn't, though, because he's not one to be curious about people he doesn't need. The more he sees [Name] idly sitting and eating those yellow balls, the more he contemplates he's not as unique as he'd originally led himself to believe. Mikey isn't quite empty yet—Izana knows that better than anyone else—but [Name] is.

Or at least, he's convinced.

He doesn't have a name for what the voice in the back of his head is telling him. He can only recognize a faint lilt that sounds oddly similar to Shinichiro. It's not an unfamiliar feeling; he's been withdrawing from it for so long, that having it return to him unannounced is borderline euphoric. He's had more than enough of [Name] popping candy into her mouth and looking like nothing exists in the world but her. Izana is here—he's in the same world as her and he's just as empty as her and he wants her nonchalance before she wastes it all on someone like Kisaki. Whatever it is, he craves more of it.

[Name] holds his gaze with narrowed eyes that don't care how much power he has over her. Izana simply watches her every move, paying close attention as she pulls down her mask so he can finally establish her lips are colored black. Hidden inside the pocket of her jacket, he hears plastic crinkling. She pulls out one of those yellow balls. When she opens her mouth, the sunlight bounces back from the piercing on her tongue before it's blocked by her flat, black lips again. Then the mask is back up.

He's curious; why does she do any of the things she does? If she's so dead bored of everything around her, why bother showing up here? It doesn't make sense to him why she even bothers painting her lips when she'll cover them up with that stupid mask anyway. It moves along with her mouth as the candy clacks against her teeth. He hears the muffled shattering when she bites down on it.

Izana extends his open palm in front of her. [Name] limits herself to raising a brow, only slightly, barely noticeable unless he's looking for it—and he is looking for it. "Share," he orders. It's an order. It is an order. This is his kingdom, and [Name] is a part of it as long as she's here, bored or not, whether either of them like it or not. He's her king.

Her expression flattens again. She produces a clear plastic bag from her pocket, filled with candy balls she took the time to unwrap earlier in the day. It pokes at his brain and burns on his subconscious, how obnoxiously calm she behaves in the face of someone that could kill her in the blink of an eye. Not that he's planning to harm her yet, but he could. She presents the open bag to him, silently, and leaves him to take as many as he wants without complaint.

He takes two. There's powder coating the hard candy. "What are these?" he asks before popping one in his mouth. Instantly, he cringes. It's impossibly sour.

"Super Lemon," [Name] answers with that flippant tone he's heard mock Kisaki.

He shatters the candy and chews his way through burning sourness the same way he's been watching [Name] do all this time. Izana knows he's never been fond of lemons or limes or even the mildest of citrics, but he finds today he despises Super Lemons more than anything. He swallows the candy before shoving the other one in his mouth as well.

That burning sensation stabbing her on the back of her head doesn't stop, and although it still disturbs her, [Name] is no longer concerned about getting her head bashed into a rock for breathing in the wrong direction. Now that she knows it's just Tenjiku's head, she cranes her neck to the side, immediately locking eyes with Izana, who's completely ignoring whatever it is Kisaki is telling him. She holds his stare, because it's not just Tenjiku's head. It's Kurokawa Izana and she's afraid of what he can do. She's heard a lot about this guy, more than she needed. He will kill her if she refuses him a Super Lemon.

Izana wonders why nothing ever happens. [Name] stares at him, leaning on that wall like she's so fucking over everything happening around her. He hates her sour candy, but he despises the way she looks at him more. It's like she's analyzing him instead of understanding he's as empty as she is. And then she looks away, bored.

She clearly hates being here. She's clearly bored. She frowns in contempt and sheer disgust as Kisaki snarls more orders. She nods her head regardless of the hatred in her face and does as told. None of it makes sense to Izana. Why is she here? What is she doing? Why is she bored of his kingdom? Why does nothing ever happen?

He doesn't care to ask. He dismisses Kisaki in favor of reaching his palm out for more Super Lemons. [Name] offers her clear bag for him to take as many as he wants. It stings his tongue every time he eats another lemon drop. He contemplates if he wants to admit his curiosity to himself. Cringing at the sourness overtaking his mind, he blankly stares at her. "[Name]," he calls, because he's only ever heard her given name. She meets his eyes with a questioning hum. "What's the fun in working for Kisaki?"

[Name] laughs to herself. "I actually hate Kisaki more than I let on." Izana disagrees. He's always quick to catch on to her reactions. Her attention flickers to the side while she shrugs, spotting Kisaki glancing back at the call of his name. A chuckle tumbles off her lips when her employer only glares daggers. She turns back to Izana with a hooded gaze, like nothing ever happens in her life either. "It's whatever. He makes up for it in cash."

It's the money. She's in his world for a few bills. "So you're smarter than Kisaki's dog, huh."

"Hanma?" Her brows rise and she giggles quietly. "Plenty."

Izana takes a step closer to get up in her face. She presses her back flat on the wall, but no emotion crosses her eyes. "You know we're planning to kill people, right?" Because it's the money for her, but it's everything for him. There's an empty space Manjiro carved by stealing everything from him.

He sees her shoulders relax, eyes narrowed. "The ends justify the means, I guess."

Something in the back of his mind tells him that his only sister dying isn't justifiable means to a stash of cash. He doesn't voice it, because disagreeing means they're not the same anymore. Kakucho, his servant, the one that's been with him for years dares talk back. Whatever this is—nonchalance, understanding, boredom, validation; call it anything—Izana gets high off of it. He allows it, otherwise things will never happen.

#straight up #tokyo revengers #tokrev #kurokawa izana #izana kurokawa #izana #izana x reader #kurokawa izana x reader #izana kurokawa x reader

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mysticsparklewings · 28 days ago

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Obscutober 2024 Day 16: Escutcheon 🛡️

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Escutcheon (n.)

a shield or shield-like surface on which a coat of arms is depicted

an ornamental or protective plate around a keyhole, door handle, drawer pull, light switch, etc.

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We are officially halfway through October/Inktober! 🎉

You could say I went with something more on the simple side to “celebrate,” but it was mostly just a coincidence. 😅 I am still happy with it, though! 👍

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk a little more about my thoughts/process. ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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Once again for catharsis: We are officially halfway through the month, Sparklers! 🥳

...And you'd think that to celebrate, I'd actually be able to get today's piece posted earlier, but nope! And it really is no one else's fault but my own this time—I had this one already 90% finished, but I let myself get distracted by some other things I know really could've waited until after this was taken care of. 😅 I accept my fate!

But it is what it is; At least I don't think the art itself suffered as a result.

This one felt relatively easy since, as might be overly obvious, it put very specific images in my head—Much of which I thought translated well enough into a mandala design. Namely, I kept picturing a keyhole plate that was etched gold, and I went with a very basic, "classic" shield shape because the definition literally says "shield" and I associate coats-of-arms images with a pretty shield-like shape as it is. And I also associate coats-of-arms strongly with royalty, so that's where the crown shapes came from.

Once I had those shapes in place as a foundation, it felt fair to just kind of fill in with more general mandala motifs that, at least to me, feel reasonably adjacent to some detail work you might see in these kids of decorative plates...However, I will admit I didn't actually bother looking up references for this one, so if you're personally more familiar with "Escutcheons" and some of the motifs I picked look terribly out of place...Well, here's my excuses and an apology, I guess. 😆

The colors were also very straightforward. I went with silver and goal for the metal base, then offset them with some abstract shadows. I added the spots of red, blue, purple, and green as a last-minute pop; The whole package was missing something, and I each of these colors in jewel tones I again associate pretty strong with royalty, plus I think they're fairly common inclusions in colored coats-of-arms designs.

My one regret in the design is that the white lines + browns in the background make me think an awful lot of a Gingerbread house, but when I tried switching the lines to black, everything just felt horribly flat.

At that point I really did not feel like going back over the background colors to try and "fix" the black lines when the white ones were fine outside of the Gingerbread thing (and this was after I got distracted, so I was running short on time, too)...So white lines it is! Who says you can't make a Gingerbread house that looks more like a castle for Gingerbread Royalty, anyway? I'm sure someone out there has done it! 😉

...You'd think I'd have more to say than that, but...Well, this one was pretty simple, especially compared to all everything I tried to squeeze into yesterday's. I know I said once before these can't all be super complex, and that holds true for today.

Oh! I should mention: This is yet again one word where I left off part of the definition that I included on the "official" list because it both took up a lot of space and also didn't really fit with the direction I took the art in. Escutcheon, in nautical use, can also mean, "A panel on the stern of a vessel bearing its name and port of registry."

And one final note you Sparklers might find amusing: This is probably the word I'm the most glad I don't have to pronounce out loud for this challenge. 🤭 I've had trouble enough remembering how spell it!

...That should be everything for today, I think. Now let me get to cross-posting before it gets any later...or before I get distracted by something else that could really stand to wait. 😆

See you tomorrow, Sparklers. 🤗

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See the Prompt List

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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knickynoo · 1 year ago

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Back to the Future: The Animated Series, s02ep09 “Hill Valley Brown Out"

Previous episodes linked here.

In this episode: Clara and Doc's dynamic continues to upset me, the townsfolk can't decide if they love Doc or want to banish him from Hill Valley, and a reference to a '90s show makes me do ten minutes of research.

The opening sequence with Doc is super quick and not particularly interesting, so I'm going to skip it and get right to the cartoon.

The citizens of Hill Valley are preparing for the annual Founders' Day celebration, which is a thing that I know about from watching Little House on the Prairie and The Waltons, lol. Both of those shows had Founders' Day episodes as well. We see a statue dedicated to the founder of Hill Valley with a plaque that reads, "The Old Pioneer and His Mule Standing on a Hill."

We then go to the Brown home, where the family is very busy preparing for the festival. Jules and Verne are hard at work making a papier-mâché mule, Clara is putting together a handmade costume, and Doc has been put in charge of the food booth. Unfortunately, Doc is being his typical bumbling cartoon self, and he ends up making a mess of things in the house. Clara, as usual, is angry and annoyed at him and sends him out of the house with these parting words:

If you read the post for the previous episode, you'll recall Clara and Doc flipping out at each other and having a major fight, and they've been unkind to each other in other episodes as well. It's particularly prevalent with Clara, who seems to have this whole "I married an idiot" thing going on??

I do not like it. Always amazed at how little these characters resemble the ones from the movies sometimes. Clara is often framed as the nagging, long-suffering wife, Doc is so ridiculously goofy and incompetent at times that it's a little much even for a cartoon, and Marty is just Some Generic 90's Cartoon Guy that they slapped the name Marty McFly on and called it a day.

This series could have been good. It could have been so good. Alas.

Anyway, Doc goes off to the garage, where he soon gets a phone call. It's the sheriff, calling to remind Doc not to partake in any "monkey business" prior to the Founders' Day celebration. Doc assures the man that all will go smoothly.

As soon as he hangs up the phone, Doc gets a visit from Biff who asks to borrow some chairs for a party he's throwing. While he's there, Doc sees it as the perfect opportunity to test out his invention for the town celebration: a machine that cooks and serves 1,000 hot dogs per hour.

As expected, the machine malfunctions and ends up covering Biff in the food (as well as slapping him). Doc makes up for it by loaning Biff a bunch of his specialized folding chairs. After Biff leaves, Doc attempts to clean the machine using "super sudsy soap" he's invented. Does it work as it's supposed to? Of course not. This guy invented several fully functional time machines, but he's yet to invent anything in the cartoon that actually functions properly.

The soap is SO SUDSY that it flows out of the garage and into the house, where Clara is busy fixing her costume and muttering angrily to herself about her husband. As she does so, she mentions Doc's full name, and it's at that point that I discovered Lathrop isn't pronounced "lah-throp" like I'd thought all these years; it's pronounced "lay-throp." I don't know why this bothers me, but it does. It doesn't look like it should be pronounced like that.

Clara, absolutely fed up with Doc's shenanigans, gets into the DeLorean and tells him that she's taking the boys into town for the tractor pull contest. Jules and Verne are utterly delighted and seemingly oblivious to the fact that their family is one step away from crumbling.

As she pulls out of the driveway, Clara says, "And find a new lab, or you'll have to find a new family!"

HELLO??? I know married couples fight but. What is happening with these two?? This is ridiculous behavior.

Doc takes his invention over to the McFly house, hoping to use their garage as his workspace. We've never seen the McFly home in the cartoon before!

The outlets in the garage don't have enough voltage for Doc's power tools, but he decides it's a good idea to tap directly into the nearby transformer to get the power he needs. He proceeds to cause the entire town's electricity to go out.

The next day, Clara is harassed and then chased by an angry mob of protestors outside the grocery store, and Verne is tormented on the playground by kids who are singing a taunting song about Doc.

Later on, as Doc sits in the yard with Einstein and wonders if he'll be allowed back inside the house tonight (Clara had kicked him out), his wife and the boys appear and shut down that possibility real quick.

Yes, she's making him eat dog food. Also, why does he have a dog bowl, and why does it say "Doc" rather than "Emmett"? WHO PUNCHED MY BOY JULES IN THE EYE??

Doc believes he has a solution to restore electricity to the city, and he heads off to gather supplies. While walking in town, he's picked up by the sheriff, who drives him to the city limit, tosses him out of the car, and tells him not to show his face in Hill Valley again.

Things are not looking good for our pal Doc.

He quickly finds a loophole, though! Doc sneaks over to the McFly house, explains to Marty that the sheriff said not to show his face, and then shows off his new disguise.

As confident as Doc is, the disguise doesn't work all that well. A worker at the hardware store recognizes him instantly, and all I got to say is...how? That does not look remotely like Doc. This plan should have worked. Back at the garage, Marty offers to go pick up whatever Doc needs, but Doc says Marty going to the hardware store would look suspicious.

He eventually finds a way to get his supplies and is able to build a giant generator that runs off of water, wind, sunlight, and moonlight.

It works, the town gets power back, and the sheriff welcomes Doc back to the town. Back at the Brown home, Clara is relieved to have the power back, as she'd been busy using an exercise bike to power the TV.

Side note: She says, "What I go through so we won't miss Northern Exposure." This led me to then look up what that was, and I discovered it was a popular show in the 1990s. The imdb page lists this as the synopsis: "A city doctor is forced to work in the remote Alaskan town of Cicely, where he encounters peculiar locals, including a former NASA astronaut, as he adjusts to small-town life."

And right away, my brain went, "That just sounds like Doc Hollywood but in Alaska."

So, I fell down some additional rabbit holes and found several articles and message boards of people also discussing this connection. Doc Hollywood premiered a little over a year after Northern Exposure did, but some people mentioned that the show might have been inspired by the 1979 book called "What? Dead Again?" Doc Hollywood is based off of.

So, basically, it might have happened like this...

Ok, I need to get my train of thought back onto the tracks because that distracted me for several minutes.

Clara welcomes Doc back with a hug, and the townspeople declare Doc a hero.

The happiness doesn't last too long, though. The power is back, but Doc later discovers that there's no way to turn anything off. Every light and appliance in the entire town has become permanently on. A mob forms to run Doc out of town. Again. Before they do that, they decide to try to shut the generator down. Biff pours soda on it, which shorts the device out.

We get a brief shot of the local movie theater, which is playing Back to the Future. (this can be seen in a past episode as well)

Everything around town starts exploding. Lampposts, traffic lights, etc. It's a disaster. The very people who were ten seconds away from driving the Brown family out of town then beg Doc to help. He springs into action, shuts down the machine, and the angry mob goes back to cheering for him.

What a wild ride this episode is.

We cut to the Founders' Day celebration, where Jules, Verne, and Marty are grumpy since the destruction of the generator means the town has fallen back into not having electricity. The boys complain that all the fun parts of the fair need power (bumper cars, rock concert, etc). An old man then approaches and tells them that the original Founders' Day didn't have electricity either, and they still had fun. Marty concludes that they can still enjoy the day by participating in other activities like the citizens did back in the day.

Btw, the old guy looks just like the guy from the statue shown in the beginning.

After his inspirational speech, the old man asks Clara to take him back home in that "fancy carriage," which confirms that Clara had gone back in time to get him so that he could offer the town some encouragement. This brings us to the end of the cartoon.

We return to Real Doc, who, long story short, ends up accidentally opening the water reservoir gates on the Hoover Dam. Don't worry, he fixes it right away. All is well.

This feels like the longest post I've done for this show so far. It took forever to watch the episode and type it up. Though that may be due in part to me getting sidetracked by the Doc Hollywood thing.

Definitely not one of my favorite episodes. I'm so tired of Clara being mean to Doc and acting like she doesn't love him. I hope the next episode is better. I'm not even going to look up the summary because I want to just go into it without any background.

If you managed to read this whole thing, this is for you.

#back to the future #bttf: the animated series

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