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selfdiagnosedeyemotif · 1 month ago

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Hope I get the one you want, though I am not confident in it

5 (this ones personal curiosity), 13, 27 and 30, for the 30 one answer the question you want to answer, but don't say which one it is (if you think this is cheating too much then I suppose just don't do it, you can do 15 instead)

5. Favourite form of potato?

i do really love poutine which is crazy because im from canada but also baked potatoes are ostensibly the best form of potato

13. What's the first thing you'd do in the purge?

steal a sword. open carry.

27. What's your go-to outfit?

ive got this green and navy blue plaid shirt that i thrifted recently that i love a ton, and then also some camouflage cargo pants. ive got a skirt that im making that im hoping to oust the pants but its also fully just fabric right now so we'll see

now. you said question 30 to answer the question i wanted. with question 15 as a backup.

question fifteen was the question that i specifically wanted. that being said.

15. Rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning.

so just getting the ranking out of the way before i explain. drowning > freezing > burning.

BURNING is a good method. its definitely not bad. its loaded and symbolic as hell (witch trials) which is a plus and is VERY evocative, but its just... missing something to me. like theres not enough on the part of the person burning. you cant really talk because the fire is going to just kinda force you to scream (WHICH SIDE NOTE. CAN BE COOL. DEPRIVATION OF AGENCY IN DEATH. ESPECIALLY WITH HOW YOURE OFTEN TIED UP WHILST BEING BURNED). but overall its a good death but doesnt measure up to the others

FREEZING is more my speed. freezing requires time more than anything, which sets it apart from most forms of death. most of the time when someone dies its either quick, or slow in the sense that it takes maybe a few hours. PERSONALLY. i prefer infection in this regard. but overall the main difference between these two is that infection is wet and freezing is dry. but yeah freezing slowly sucks the life out of you and breaks you. it wears you down until theres nothing left. the last stage of hypothermia is also notably a sense of calm and warmth and tiredness. you just need to lie down for a moment. which to me is actually fucking horrifying if im being real with you. that is SURRENDER. which is always awesome. narratively. again infection is a better way to do this (its grosser) but freezing to death will fill its place quite nicely.

now. DROWNING is the shit. because here's the thing. it is mechanically very similar to burning to death. you cant talk (water). its VERY fast with shades of panic involved. but heres the thing. first of all its dark and wet which i think im already on record as saying i prefer. but heres the thing. drowning has a few things running for it that are UNIQUE to it that i think really pushes it over the edge.

Drowning has a specific, short time limit. Most people will last about six minutes without air. Some can stretch it to ten. But there is, effectively, an actual clock ticking on a drowning. With exsanguination (bleeding out), that doesn't exist. You could bleed out super quick or last hours. With burning, that doesn't exist. You're gone too fast. Drowning, unlike most forms of death, gives you a bit of information by its nature, and offers room for suspense. You'd better hurry up. There isn't much time left.

Drowning forces you to betray yourself. The natural bodily response to asphyxiation is to attempt to breathe, and you can only suppress that response for so long. Normally this is good; you don't have air, so you get some by breathing. Easy. But with drowning, that is the specific thing you don't want to do. Attempting to breathe, a thing that you cannot prevent from happening, kills you faster. And additionally, it just looks sick as hell to gasp for air whilst underwater. You get those bubbles, your last lifeline, rising up and away from you while you sink further and further from the surface. You're never getting those back.

Drowning better utilizes light and darkness than most forms of death. (Quick side tangent: this is one scenario where sometimes burning does it better. Death through light can be using to spotlight that which is true while killing someone, which can definitely be cool. It is impossible to hide that which is true whilst burning; every feature is highlighted, which can be great for both just and unjust deaths in cases where a lack of ambiguity works in the death's favour. Anyways, back to the actual point i was making). By the way drowning works most of the time (put a pin in that for point four), you are dragged further from the surface as you die. The surface, generally, is also the main source of light in these situations. In pulling someone into the dark while killing them, it can really emphasize both a hopeless feeling and a feeling of pointlessness and loss. This death will not be honourable. It will be obscure and lost forever, a footnote at the bottom of the sea. You will not be remembered.

Drowning also has another unique way of demonstrating obscurity that I'm personally a huge fan of. Usually drowning involves a deep body of water, but so long as your mouth and nose are submerged and cannot reach air, you can drown. Ergo, a person can drown in a few inches of water which is so COOL. Like. You were so close to being pulled back into the world of the living you just needed a little PUSH. A little HELP. But you died ANYWAY because you, again, were so crushingly alone, so buried beneath obscura even before you died, that no one COULD help you. And for those same reasons you will AGAIN be forgotten.

The mafia put people's feet in concrete and sink them into rivers and I think that's a very evocative image.

#all of this being said tho. i think most forms of death have specific uses that make each suited for different situations #like i said burning is great for destroying ambiguity and showing a thing as it is #drowning is great for hopelessness and loneliness #infection and freezing are both good for surrender #whereas bleeding out is much better for defeat which i am counting as not only a different concept #but also as an importantly different category altogether #and then instant death (neck snapping; anything that pierces the heart; beheading) is great for demonstrating power differentials #obviously this isnt every kind of death but those are some pretty solid pillars of death #i just spent 45 minutes typing out an essay on why death is cool actually what the fuck #is this my niche. is this what i do now #i dunno. whatever. this is fine and healthy actually #i really hope that the spirit of the question wasnt asking it in a Would-You-Rather sort of way #that would be pretty awkward #and the void screameth back #crabknight

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p5x-theories · 2 months ago

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(Originally a reply on the Haru info post, responding separately since that's kind of a long post and I don't want to reblog it again, heh)

@lolipopman416 Ah, yes, I think I listed them out for an ask in the past, but I'll just give you an updated list here! (And maybe add it to my FAQ, so the info's a bit more convenient to find, heh.)

Resist: good at targeting single enemies (Wonder (Janosik), Fleuret, Mont, Bui, Sepia, Messa, Skull, Queen). This tends to manifest as followup attacks that hit one target, or status effects/damage buffs that apply against specific targets.

Control: good at dealing with groups of enemies (Closer, Summer Motoha, Joker, Panther, Fox, Noir). This tends to manifest as lots of multi-target attacks, and bonuses for using those attacks in certain ways.

Surrender: focused around applying debuffs to gain an advantage (Key, Rin, Vino). This tends to manifest as a focus on a particular status effect, and the ability to do extra damage/effects to enemies once they're inflicted with it.

Rescue: focuses on healing companions (Cattle, Summer Tomoko, Marian, Mona). This has so far always included at least one healing skill, but often other healing abilities can be triggered as well.

Superior: good at buffing teammates and improving their effectiveness (Moko, Leon, Riddle, Chord). This has so far always manifested as unique buffs/status effects, sometimes becoming fully triggered by additional conditions.

Defense: good at protecting teammates and keeping them alive (Soy, Yuki, Cherish). This tends to manifest as shield-focused abilities, but Soy instead draws fire to himself, and buffs the team's max health temporarily.

Elucidation: the designation used for navigators (Wind, Okyann, Puppet, Phoebe, Oracle). This obviously has a wide array of specific applications, but tends to revolve around unique buffs or debuffs that the navigator can grant/inflict, and obviously each navigator has their own fights/team compositions they're most suited for.

These categories also apply to all of Wonder's Sea of Souls Personas, but I doubt you care as much about that in particular, and it'd honestly be way too time-consuming to list them all out, haha. But I hope this was what you're looking for!

For the most part, these combat roles/designations don't really matter in the game- there's no inherent penalty for having a team of three Resist characters and an Elucidation, for instance- but there are two places where you need to pay attention to them: Marthym Tasks, which often require 1-2 characters of a specific role, and certain Door to Ominous Dreams fights, where the survival-type fights require you to have at least one Rescue or Defense teammate, making the enemies much stronger if you lack one.

That said, the roles are also a bit useful for speculating what a character will be like as soon as they're announced! I remember it was interesting to first hear that Summer Tomoko was a Rescue instead of a Superior, because that implied a distinct change in skill set for her. We also had an idea of what to expect for Cherish, since we knew he was Defense before we'd even confirmed which character he actually was, haha!

It may also be a useful avenue for future theorizing- right now our story team lacks any Surrender or Superior teammates, so that may be what we're getting next! In general, we're lowest on Superior and Defense teammates (though they did just add Cherish), so we may be seeing more of them in the near future.

#game info #character info #theories #this is an aside but it's honestly very interesting to me the different applications that each navigator lends themselves to #I could probably write a whole separate mini post about that heh. though since I have to google translate everything my analysis #might not be perfect. mostly just observational and trying to interpret the messy translations I get heh. but it is neat to me.#and swapping navigators can make such a difference in some fights if you're struggling with them!#team composition in this game in general is kind of fun. I love how stupid yuki + cherish + puppet is as a combo. infinite shield trio #surrender's probably my favorite combat role class though. I love the satisfaction of setting up status effects and maximizing damage #but the resist teammates with followup attacks (mont sepia bui) have a special place in my heart too. I love getting a second attack in #my tags on this post will devolve into me gushing about my favorite unique mechanics that characters have if I don't stop here though haha

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dent-de-leon · 1 year ago

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This snippet of dialogue from Romeo & Juliet always gives me heavy Lucien vibes and I need to share the brainrot with you

aHH oh I can definitely see it...I especially love the phrase, "Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical," because it reminds me of when Matt was describing some of the imagery that inspired Lucien's transformation.

In response to Aabria asking, "And why is he mostly naked?"--which, already an amazing and hilarious start--Matt gives us this amazing allusion, "It is very much that angelic, biblical kind of visual--that classic painting I reference. And I wanted...wanted to see his muscles--"

And although Matt never confirms which painting Lucien's Neo Somnovem form is based off of, I always had a feeling it was Fallen Angel. Instantly recognizable, incredibly poignant and tragic. The anger in his eyes, yet the vulnerability of his pose. The way he's grounded down on earth while the rest of the angels are free to fly. Cast down and forgotten--very Lucien to me.

There's also just this facinating parallel to me of those with infernal blood being given wings or other angelic features--as a mark of being so far gone and corrupted. Obann's coveted wings, thematically ripped apart by a real angel when he's struck down. The fiendish Lord of the Hells, Asmodeus, once a "celestial of light"--"Perhaps at one point he wore a golden face...That's long gone."

And then Lucien, who always dreamed of being a butterfly. Transforming into something free and beautiful. Yet his metamorphosis ends in only blood and ruin, wings of bone that will never be able to take flight. He believed himself to be a divinely ordained god, yet when he's finally granted wings, he's more doomed than ever.

And just...the way that Lucien was demonized for his blood for so long, seen as nothing more than a monster. Someone who could never possibly be loved. Even Jester playfully teasing, "I think you're dreamy," takes him completely by surprise. “That’s a new one, as the years went on. Didn’t start that way. Not a lot of folks are eager and kind--especially in Shadycreek Run, growing up--to those of infernal blood.” I think there's also something to be said for Tealeaf literally being someone of infernal blood who uses their blood magic to inflict radiant damage. Something about divine punishment from a demon.

Mollymauk is even called the devil at one point, and it's a moment where we see why Lucien always clung so desperately to being fate touched, to the faint hope that he was destined for more, that there was a future where he would no longer have to be an outcast and a monster, always betrayed and alone. "'The world is yours...We gladly give it to thee...' 'How will I take it? What will it cost?' 'Pain and pain and pain. A dear price for a man, a pittance to a king. And nothing to a God, cosmically ordained...Long may you reign.'" "She's right, this is awfully coincidental...But then, you don't believe in coincidences, do you, Chosen One?"

Going back to theatre and tragedies for a moment--I truly can't get over the fact that Lucien liked performing in plays as a child, and that his parents always cast him as the villain. Lucien portraying the heartless, tyrant knight, demanding that a king murder his own queen if he wants to save his kingdom. "Your lands are surrounded, your castle besieged. Send out your lady love, strike her down before my armies. Her blood for your freedom!"

And I do kind of wonder if the queen's tragic end foreshadows Molly's own choice to tear himself apart to save the rest of the Nein. Lucien the heartless knight, demanding the king sacrifice his beloved queen. Lucien repeatedly telling the Nein to just let go of Mollymauk, to forsake the one person they came this far for. The Mighty Nein risking everything for one doomed, shattered soul. "Not the queen! Not the queen! For our king loves her beyond measure, and she is vanity itself. The kingdom for one soul, and the price never to be paid!" Molly ultimately choosing to give up himself, even though the Nein couldn't. Wholeheartedly believing, "It was worth it. It was worth it--"

Lucien's role in the tragedy also reminds me a bit of the opening for King Richard III. Lucien being as much of a romantic as Mollymauk, but deciding that if he'll never be loved or saved, then he might as well be the coldhearted villain that the whole world tried to make him. "And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover/To entertain these fair, well-spoken days/I am determined to prove a villain."

Resenting Mollymauk for the fact that his soul is so free and full of joy, that this "forgotten fragment," is so adored by the same world that despised him. Begrudging Molly for all the happiness and comforts he never indulged in. Clinging so fiercely to the belief that he was chosen by destiny, some sort of god or king. That he was always meant for more than this tragic, inescapable fate--

#lucien tavelle #critical role #matt saying its cannon lucien is inspired by the image of a fallen angel makes my whole heart hurt #also just. can you imagine if lucien really ended up being this ghost haunting molly to try and get his body back like matt intended--#i do think wed get a scene of him offering to spare the rest of the nein if theyd surrender molly like in luciens childhood play--#also I just love the image of someone with infernal blood dreaming of being divine

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blujayonthewing · 5 months ago

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I've thought a lot about the several thousand year old gnome druid we met who was just bitter and jaded and had spent most of those millennia sitting in one place not doing anything in particular except mourning her tiefling wife who'd died millennia ago, and how disgusted and infuriated with her melliwyk is, personally but also as a gnome herself-- and I'm thinking about it again like. honestly I think it goes beyond general cultural values; that level of willful ongoing stagnation and joyless nihilism is probably completely seriously a gnomish sin

#melliwyk-- viciously and also meaning it from the bottom of her heart: you might as well just be dead.#zhartook- a baby druid who has inherited tana's sort of cosmic role- came away from that meeting with existential dread #melliwyk's just SPITTING FIRE angry about it. what a WASTE. what a WASTE of a LIFE.#I'll be lucky to get a few CENTURIES and it won't be enough to squeeze as much LIVING out of life as possible!#other people are lucky to get even just a handful of decades!#and YOU!! who ought to KNOW BETTER!! don't even have A HOBBY?? you're sitting here talking about how POINTLESS EVERYTHING IS???#you married a tiefling and act like outliving your loved ones is uniquely tragic for you? like you wouldn't have done that anyway??#... ah I got possessed by mel's anger for a sec there gfkjhgfd. point is I think the real core of the most important gnome values #is that being alive and being a part of the world is a gift that you're meant to delight in and make the most of #it's your PURPOSE to seek joy and fun! it's your PURPOSE to INTERACT with the world creatively and inquisitively!#there's something almost blasphemous about PERMANENTLY and WHOLLY surrendering to despair #something heretical about talking confidently about how little anything matters and so there's no point in caring #tana's probably got turbo depression but her own hot take was just 'yeah kids this is what being alive this long does to you lol'#and mel is like. no I think you're just really fucking bad at it. like are you aware people are still writing new books #my OCs #melliwyk #gnome stuff

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arminsumi · 2 months ago

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Betting your girl's mouth on a basketball game was crazy — and Suguru was all for it.

After taking a loss that may or may not have been deliberate, jock!Suguru wears a dirty grin on his face while watching you suck his best friends virgin cock like a good girl, loving the nasty wet noises you make while slurping up and down nerd!Satoru's pulsing shaft, slowly stroking himself to the sight of you on your knees, making cock disappear in your mouth like magic.

And Satoru — the poor boy — is losing his mind because he's never felt a woman's lips around his dummy big cock before. He used to tell you that sex is beneath him — now he's throwing his head back, gritting his pearly whites, curling his toes and biting his bottom lip 'till it's all red, totally surrendering to your little mouth — it's just so funny to you, 'cause he's been the know-it-all bastard telling you "... you're just Suguru's slut. If you paid as much attention in class as you did to my best friend's dick, maybe you'd amount to something. Do you even remember what we learned yesterday? Exactly. But I do — that's why I'm the top student and you're just — "

Bla bla bla... Satoru's now showing you how much precum his dummy big cock leaks — it's a sticky mess oozing out of his tip all over your quivering tongue. You looked up at him and winked, and he seethed inside because god he's hated you for so long but now your lips are wrapped around his cock and your mouth is taking him to heaven.

He's whining, biting into his fist, knees all wobbly. the texture of your tongue drives him nuts — then it clicks. oh, this is why my best friend is obsessed with his girlfriend. This is why he can't shut up and stop oversharing his sex life with me.

'Cause heaven really does exist on her tongue.

"fuck, slow down..." Satoru tries to ease his cock out your mouth, feeling his orgasm threatening to erupt at any moment.

But Suguru pushes you back down on his cock, filling your cheeks again, "nah, keep going baby, he's gonna cum — aren't you Satoru? You're gonna cum in my girl's mouth, huh? Come on, big boy, I know how long you've wanted this. Fill this little slut's mouth with your cum."

Those taunting words push him over the edge. His heavy balls tighten up as he feels you suckling his swollen head, and then white ropes come bursting out.

"Ahh—gh! Fuck... nn!"

Satoru's legs give out and he moans like you've never heard a man moan before, releasing all the cum he's worked up for you like he's been waiting years to do this. Actually, he has been waiting years — waiting patiently to find an opportunity to make your jaw ache and eyes well up with tears.

"Baby, you gonna swallow my best friend's cum f'me?" Suguru encourages, stroking his cock lazily against your cheek now.

He watches you compliantly swallow Satoru's seed, and Satoru twitches at the sight.

Huffing, Satoru comes down from his high and brushes his white wispy bangs out of his eyes. He's glaring down at your mouth.

"... still fucking hate you... " Satoru mutters to you in a voice still shaky with the after-effects of his orgasm.

"I still hate you, too." you smile back at him.

His heart flutters and bottom lip twitches. He can't stop staring at your lips, your eyes, your hips, your thighs.

"Ah, Satoru, quit your act — you're the one who proposed this idea in the first place."

You went red in the face. It was Satoru's idea? The mister goody-two-shoes, know-it-all, all A+++ report cards, 'sex is beneath me' Satoru?

"Huh? I thought this was your idea..." but before you can express your surprise you're already feeling Suguru nudge his cockhead against your lips.

"Sh sh, now it's my turn, baby. Open wide."

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pastelaspirations · 8 months ago

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Okay, I... I don't know what, I can't- W a i t, o k a y. I'm not even screaming right now or. Even in the process of losing my mind. I have already lost it. It's gone. My mind has left me, a shell of a person, as I ascend into the heavens as I am essentially dead in all manners but physical.

Would even saying "I'm not okay" be accurate to my situation??? It would be more akin to holding up a severed arm at the scene of a car crash, giving a skeptical look to said car crash, then addressing every horrified and disturbed individual that you, in your professional opinion, think that the person who used to own the severed arm is in fact, not okay.

Can I. Come back maybe. Reblog this when I have found my lost mind somewhere and can be more coherent.

O k a y. How do I. Even express what I feel right now.

My heart is in shambles. Utterly d e s t r o y e d, I tell you. I don't think there is a way I will ever possibly recover from this.

We laugh and we laugh at my lighthearted jokes of me crying over fan art. And while I was over the moon, delighted beyond the words that I so poorly tried to use and express the absolute joy I felt, I wasn't actually crying. Of course, there were times I came c l o s e, just from the sheer overwhelming joy that my tiny heart is not accustomed to feeling, but I usually was able to contain myself. The happiness cancelled out the tears that would have fallen. I'm sure this isn't a surprise, very often things said in full capital letters and repeated instances of the same letter at the end of words are said in hyperbole.

T h a t s a i d. I did actually cry from this. I promise, I am telling the full truth right now. To make matters brief, I had a very rough awakening due to an emergency and I had been stressed the majority of the day. S o, uh, I suppose that weakened the usually fortified walls I have up that prevent me from actually crying at things.

I don't know why, man. I'm just. So overwhelmed with so many emotions, I can't. ALL THE EMOTIONS YOU INFLICTED WITH THIS ARE ALL GOOD, I SWEAR, THEY'RE JUST. INCREDIBLY POTENT AND POWERFUL WHEN USED AGAINST A WEAK HEART.

I know how incredibly difficult animation is, even if I haven't attempted it myself yet. It takes so much practice and patience, and there are many who give up before they become better at it because of the unforgiving amount of time and perseverance it takes. So, that may be partly why I am so incredibly honored and humbled to have someone do all that for a story I made.

It just means so much, I don't know how else to express it. Never, in a million years, did I think when I created this fic three years ago, that I would be getting fan art, let a l o n e fan animations. If you were to tell me that three years ago, I would have looked at you like you had lost your mind.

That's what I wanted to do when I first started writing. I thought that if I inspired someone else with a little story that I created, then it would be worth it. ;_; So, to see all these incredibly talented people like you be so inspired to create something new means the world to me. It's just so incredibly flattering and overwhelming that it is over a story that I made. <3

OKAY, I'M SORRY FOR ALL THAT, I JUST. I'm so moved and touched and I'm not sure if I can even express how exactly I feel in words, but I tried. I promise, I will love this until the end of time and it means the absolute world to me <3 <3 ;_; ;_;

their first meeting . Based on the fanfiction "Perseverance" by: @pastelaspirations

#It “technically” is spoilers but Error was tagged since the beginning so it wasn't really a surprise lmao #It was literally so bad; I was legitimately worried I was falsely advertising to people because of how long it took for him to show up #I was promising people in the comments to just let me c o o k; I wasn't falsely advertising I swear #Y e e the scene you animated was a lil bit different from the fic #BUT SO SIMILAR AT THE SAME TIME-#I'M SCREAMING. THE COIN BOX. INK READY TO RUN OUR LAD THROUGH. ERROR FREAKING PUTTING UP HIS HANDS IN SURRENDER #IT ALL THE S A M E #Do you know how overwhelming and meaningful this is #It is literally a scene I imagined in my head c o m e t o l i f e-#The lil differences in your animation from the fic just make my heart swell more tbh #I deliberately don't describe things in excruciating details sometimes p r e c i s e l y because I want readers to develop their own ideas #S u r e I want to paint a picture in their head #But I also want to leave room for imagination :D #So to see a different artistic rendition of the scene means I succeeded in my efforts ;_;#I am physically reeling at the background; it is gorgeous #Of course the bois being brought to life and m o v i n g is ascending me to the heavens #I am s o r r y for the long reblog. I just. This made my year probably-

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seumyo · 30 days ago

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a softie for sentimentality, bakugou katsuki.

Bakugou wears a bracelet. You’ve known about it for as long as you could remember, but only decided to acknowledge it now that you’re in your third year at UA, two weeks before graduation.

It wasn’t flashy or adorned with any kind of logo—just a simple, sturdy piece of metal with a stainless clasp that he seemed to wear all the time. You tilted your head as you studied it.

“You’ve had that bracelet for as long as I can remember,” you said, sitting down on his study chair. It’s a privilege to even set foot inside of his room without immediately being told (yelled) off, really.

Bakugou looked up from his book and glanced at you. “Yeah, and?”

“Is there, like, a story behind it?”

“No story,” he said with a shrug, but you weren’t entirely convinced.

“Really? That’s so bland. I thought there’d be like a gut-wrenching or life-changing story for it.”

He sat up from his bed with a huff, his eyes narrowing at you. “It’s just somethin’ I wear. What’s it to you?”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, a playful smile on your lips. “Alright, Mr. Mysterious. Keep your secrets.”

“Fuck off, dipshit.”

“Again with that! Why can’t you be nicer now that we’re graduating?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

But the conversation stuck to you.

It’s the day of graduation when you presented him with a small, handmade box. It was simple, made of sturdy cardboard decorated with his signature colors and an orange ribbon to match. Bakugou rose a brow.

“What’s this for?” He asks, holding it up like the box might explode at any given moment, though there was no bite to it.

“A box.”

“No shit,” he scoffs, “what’s in it?”

“Open it to find out!” You egged him on.

Bakugou sighs, opening the box with a focused pout. He went quiet when he saw what was inside.

“Ta-da! A bracelet,” you said, smiling. “For you. Thought you could use something new to switch things up.”

He held the stringed bracelet in his hand, looking at the material as if it would erupt in flames if he glared hard enough. It was a stark contrast to his metal one—brightly colored warm complementary beads with little charms that somehow still managed to feel like him. There was a red charm shaped like an explosion, a black bead with a skull design, and a small silver charm with an engraved kanji for “strength.”

“I’m not wearing this,” he said flatly.

It’s like your cartoonish heart balloon had suddenly been popped with a prickly needle.

“What? Why not? It’s cool!” you argued. “I even made it myself to really match you!”

“It’s not my style.”

“Sure it is. Look, it’s got black, silver, and even a little red—it screams Bakugou Katsuki.”

“I didn’t get you anythin’ as a parting gift,” he tells you.

“Don’t worry about it! It’s fine,” you replied, waving your hand in dismissal. “Just thought this’ll go with your metal bracelet.”

He nodded, though there was a somewhat frustrated pout on his expression, muttering something under his breath a soft “thanks,” and placed the gift back in the box, never actually letting you see him wearing it during that moment.

Years later, during a photoshoot for the yearly hero gala, Bakugou stood in front of the camera in his full Dynamight suit. The photographer adjusted the lights, snapping rapid shots as Bakugou struck his signature confident poses.

“Hold still,” the stylist said, adjusting his gauntlet slightly. Her eyes flicked to his wrist, and she paused. “Oh, that’s cute. Is that handmade?”

Bakugou blinked, following her gaze. Wrapped around his wrist, right next to his ever-present metal bracelet, was the colorful string bracelet you had made him all those years ago.

He stiffened slightly, but instead of taking it off, he shrugged. “Yeah. What about it?”

The stylist smiled warmly. “It’s a nice touch. Makes you seem... approachable. And quite frankly, it matches your suit.”

Bakugou snorted. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

When the photos surfaced online, fans quickly noticed the bracelet. Social media practically exploded that day.

Is Dynamight wearing a friendship bracelet??

A HANDMADE BRACELET ON DYNAMIGHT??

Guys, he’s worn this thing for YEARS. Check the old pictures! 🙂‍↔️

You, of course, caught wind of the news—because honestly, who wouldn’t when it took all social media platforms by storm? You saw the posts one evening while scrolling through your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the photos. It was unmistakable—the bracelet you had made all those years ago.

Long after your UA days were behind you and your lives had taken you and Bakugou down different paths, the all-too-familiar bracelet made you smile sadly—more nostalgic happiness than actual sadness, really.

You stared at the screen, sighing quietly. You thought back to the last time you’d spoken, to the unspoken decision that had pulled you in different directions. You never thought something as small as a bracelet would still mean anything to him.

You didn’t even think you’d live to see the day he wears it, much less keep it after the years.

But there it was, bright and unapologetic on his wrist, a subtle reminder of a bond that hadn’t completely faded with time.

Somewhere across the city, Bakugou stood on a rooftop, the evening wind tugging at his hero uniform. He glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist, running his thumb over the frayed edges of the string. He smirked to himself, a quiet acknowledgment of the past and the person who’d given it to him.

“Guess you were right,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. “It does scream Bakugou Katsuki.”

3K notes · View notes

kokomyass · 5 months ago

Text

skincare routine

thinking about doing skincare on your hubby nanamin...

"Baby… sit still… I'm almost finished," you murmur, your voice gentle as you pour a small amount of moisturizer into your hands. You rub your palms together, warming the lotion before you begin to delicately massage it into your husband's face.

Nanami sits patiently before you, his eyes closed in peaceful surrender. His strong chin rests against your abdomen as you stand between his legs, giving you full access to his perfectly sculpted features.

"Of course, my love. Take your time," Nanami’s deep, resonant voice rumbles, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You continue to apply the moisturizer, your fingers moving tenderly across his face. His skin, smooth and radiant, glistens under the soft glow of the lights. You can't help but admire the way his freshly washed hair, still damp, clings to his forehead, with the occasional drop of water trailing down his neck.

Nanami is dressed in a loose-fitting dressing gown, the fabric parting just enough to offer you a tantalizing view of his muscular chest and broad shoulders. The sight makes your heart race, and you marvel at how incredibly lucky you are to have this Greek god of a man as your husband.

After lingering for a few moments, lost in admiration, you lean down to cup his face in your hands, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Nanami responds instantly, his kiss warm and eager.

"All done, Nanamin," you say, a bright smile lighting up your face as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze.

He opens his eyes, looking up at you with a soft, affectionate smile. "Thank you, my wife," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth and gratitude. His hands slide up to gently hold your waist, his touch firm yet comforting.

You chuckle softly, running your fingers through his damp hair as you feel his grip tighten slightly, pulling you closer. "Anything for you," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart flutter.

Nanami leans forward, resting his forehead against your stomach, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "You spoil me, you know that?" he says, his voice muffled but rich with affection.

You brush a stray lock of hair from his face, your heart swelling with love. "You deserve it," you say simply, the sincerity in your voice clear.

He tilts his head up, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one deeper and more lingering. When he finally pulls away, there's a softness in his expression that takes your breath away. "I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you," he says, his voice filled with quiet conviction.

Your cheeks warm at his words, and you can’t help but smile even wider. "And I'm the luckiest to have you, Nanami," you whisper back, your heart overflowing with emotion.

The two of you stay like that for a moment longer, wrapped up in each other's presence, before he finally stands, pulling you into a warm embrace. As his arms envelop you, you realize that moments like this—simple, tender, and filled with love—are the ones you cherish most.

credit to artist ayushnz

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago

Text

bad moon rising | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: in another lifetime, you meet mikey berzatto by chance one halloween night in nyc.

or, the fic based on this headcanon

warnings: angst, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression, not a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i wrote about grief again. shocking, i know. thank you all for your interest based on the headcanon it came from and thank you for your patience. i wanted so badly to post this around halloween and have been sitting on it since the better part of last year as one of my wips. finally, finally, it's here!! i took a slightly different approach than the headcanon, but i think it still does it justice. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the carmy taglist.

this what-if fic takes place october 2021 because it's make my heart surrender-canon that mikey and reader never met; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

masterlist

Halloween, in another lifetime:

“Can I get hands, please!” Carmy shouts out to the entire kitchen, only to be met with a strong chorus of ‘hands’ in response.

His team works together like a well-oiled machine; a tight run ship, led by a captain near-suffocated under the weight of the chip on his shoulder.

“Chef!” you hear the sound of your general manager’s voice ring through the kitchen, causing many a-heads to turn. She rarely comes into the kitchen during dinner service unless it’s serious. Her eyes lock with Carmy’s as he looks up from his expo, as if she’s about to deliver bad news.

His mind races through the possibilities, preparing to solve the next oncoming crisis. Could it be an undercooked steak? An overcooked duck breast? Another complaint of ‘too salty’ or ‘underseasoned?’

“Chef, you uh… you have a visitor,” she says instead–the last thing he expects to hear.

A visitor?

“Wh-?”

“Someone’s here to see you. Says he’s your… brother??” Carmy’s ears begin to burn, as he searches for your face amidst the chaos, your gaze there to catch him even from across the kitchen. Your presence feels reassuring, like a strong man in a storm. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s knee deep into service and he cannot get the sound of tickets being added to the expo out of his head. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s uncertain any words come out of his mouth, unsure of what he’d even say. You send him a reassuring nod, and it’s as if in one look, you’ve made the decision to go.

“Chef, you good?” Carmy hears you ask the head pastry chef.

“Yeah, we got it. But don’t take too long,” she answers with a curt nod of approval.

He watches as you nod again, this time in recognition of your boss’ answer, as you pull the food-grade nitrile gloves off of your hands, discarding them in the nearby trash can. Without a word, you follow Kate closely behind, exchanging a few words with her as the two of you disappear to the front of house. There’s a war inside of Carmy as he watches you go–a pang of guilt and a feeling of relief–that whatever it is, you’ve agreed to take care of it.

In all of the years that he’s been in New York, no one’s come to see him–the possibility of it happening now, let alone as a surprise, feels improbable.

Must be a prank or some shit….

It couldn’t really be Michael, could it?

As you seek out the answer, your feet carrying you faster than you anticipated, you realize that you’re searching for a face you’ve only seen in photographs. Kate follows closely behind while you push through the front door of the restaurant only to find a man pacing just outside of the restaurant, a ghostface mask in hand. You can tell he’s been sweating, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the ones you’ve become so familiar with in Carmy, with an anxious look in his eyes as his gaze turns towards you.

He’s certainly not the larger-than-life older brother you’ve seen in the sparse amount of pictures that Carmy’s shown you.

“I got this, Kate,” you mutter over your shoulder with a confident nod, letting your general manager know that you’re good on your own. “You sure?” she asks you quietly.

“I’m sure,” you answer, watching as a disappointed look spread across Michael’s face as soon as he sees that:

“You’re not Carmen.”

“Uh… no. I’m not,” you reply, hearing the front door to the restaurant close behind you. The man swears under his breath, and you watch as face changes from disappointment to annoyance quickly, as you try your best to come up with an explanation that may satisfy him. “He uh… he can’t come out. Not right now. So he sent me.”

Michael scoffs with a shake of his head, his eyebrows quickly rising and falling incredulously as he takes another drag off his cigarette.

“Shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" he asks, the annoyance obvious in his voice this time.

You take a step towards him, your arms folded across your chest.

“I’m sorry. I-, I don't think he was expecting you,” you answer, much more compassionately this time.

“Right,” Michael mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. You watch as he throws the butt of his cigarette down on the pavement, before stamping it out.

“It’s just-. He would if he could. I know it. It's just a busy night. I-... we're doing 200 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so,” you try again, and you can practically feel the disappointment (and resentment) burying itself deeper in Michael.

“Yeah, no thanks, lady. You don’t need to explain it to me. Jagoff can’t even make time to say ‘hi’ to his brother. Sends you to do his dirty work instead,” Michael dismisses you, bitterly.

He takes a beat. And then another, as if he’s accepted that he’s not going to see Carmy after all.

“Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure-,” you offer, taking another step towards him.

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he dismisses you again, this time gentler. “You don’t need to make up for his bullshit.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything in defense of Carmy—but you’re certain that nothing you have to say will be enough for your best friend’s older brother (save for Carmy coming out here himself).

With a nod, you accept defeat, turning to go back inside. But there’s something that stops you—like you just can’t just go back inside without trying to remedy the situation one last time. This time all you say is:

“I don’t know how long you’re in town for but… we should be off by midnight.”

Michael only offers you a sympathetic smile before you slip back inside.

—---------------------------------------

It’s not until you and Carmy are packing up your things to head home that he brings it up—his mysterious visitor—hesitant to ask the question that’s been eating at him all night.

“So uh… was it really him? Michael?” he asks you, cautiously, as he watches your face carefully for any kind of reaction.

“Uh… yeah. I mean, at least the guy I recognized from your pictures,” you reply, hoping that the answer (or the fact that he missed his brother) won’t break his heart.

A beat.

“What’d he want?” Carmy asks, trying to mask his curiosity as best as possible.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Seems like he found himself in the city. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… know if you wanted me to.”

Carmy tries again.

“Oh no. It’s-, no I didn’t-, no, it’s okay.”

He takes his time, making up his mind about what he wants to say next.

“It’s weird, right? Guy can barely pick up the phone to say hello but… he can show up unannounced and just like-, expect me to drop everything?” he asks you—the look in his eyes telling you that his mind is miles away.

“I- I don’t know, Carmy,” you reply, heavily. “Are you… do you wish you had gone instead of me?”

Carmy’s quiet as he follows you out of the back door of the restaurant, thinking his answer over.

“I don’t know,” he answers slowly, a lack of confidence as the words fall out of his mouth. “Maybe?”

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel and right now he just feels… ambushed, which only makes him want to shut down.

Instead, Carmy changes the subject back to your post-work plans, the two of you debating what kind of post-shift late night meal you’re going to have before settling on a few slices of pizza on the way back to your place. You and Carmy cut through the alley to the front of the restaurant so that you can begin your late-night sojourn, and it’s only when he spots something odd that he stops you.

“What the fuck?” Carmy cuts you off, holding an arm out in front of you to stop you from walking any further.

You follow his line of sight right over to a figure moving towards the both of you. In the brief glimpse you’ve gotten of the person moving towards you, all you can see is a quick flash of the ghostface mask they hold in their hands as a bus drives by, obstructing your view.

Carmy’s heart stops, fear filling his chest as the bus speeds by, the person getting closer and closer until…

“Michael?!” Carmy shouts, squinting as he sees the man approach. His expression of pure shock leaves his jaw agape, rendering him speechless as he scrambles to try to find better words that:

“What-, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Shit,” Michael scoffs playfully, with a chuckle, his breath uneven from the light jogging pace he’d kept. Michael takes note of the arm his younger brother’s extended, shielding you from him. “What? Can’t your big brother come surprise ya in the big city?”

Carmy shoots him a look that says, ‘when have you ever done that’ and Michael nods knowingly, his eyebrows quickly raising, then lowering as he makes peace with the fact that he’s never been that guy.

“Me and Deb… we came up for the weekend,” Mikey admits with a heavy sigh. “Tried to do something nice for her but, you know, broad’s been a real bitch-.”

“Mikey,” Carmy warns, taking a tone you recognize—the kind he uses when he’s going to yell at the saucier for a broken mornay.

“Right,” Mike course corrects at the volume of a mumble, heaving a heavy, yet disarming sigh.

Carmy nods slowly as he allows some part of him to relax, his arm falling away from you as the two of you exchange a look.

“We uh…. Got into another fight. She’s on her way back to Chicago now,” Mikey explains, the disappointment evident in his voice this time, almost as if it were an apology.

“Sorry,” Carmy mutters quietly, as you exchange a look with him.

“Nah it’s-, she’ll get over it,” Mikey brushes off with a shrug, his tone shifting as he extens an arm out to you.

“Fuck, where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Mikey. Mikey Berzatto,” he grins with a charm and confidence that’s been absent in both of your interactions with him till now. The smile that spreads across his face is contagious as he looks from you to Carmy, then back to you. “Shit. I’m sorry. ‘M fuckin’ jagoff, interupting your night like this. I should probably get-.”

“No!” you protest, almost too quickly, earning a look from Carmy. “We weren’t-, we were just getting off work and were gonna grab a bite. Maybe even… a drink?” you suggest, a hopefulness in your eyes as you turn towards Carmy.

“Yeah?” Michael asks, his interest piqued.

“Uhm. Just gonna grab a bite actually,” Carmy forces out, sending a glare in your direction.

“You know what’s crazy? I know a spot. With food. And drinks,” you challenge him, silently begging him to just go with it.

“You cool with that, Carm?” Mike asks this time, looking from you to his younger brother once more. It’s the first time that Carmy thinks Michael’s ever looked to him for approval.

Carmy’s quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to burn it all down or declare a gleeful ‘yes’ because at least Mikey wants to spend time with him.

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Yeah okay,” Carmy finally agrees.

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do it!” Mikey rallies.

And as he turns to go, your voice instructing him that it’s only a few blocks from here, you and Carmy fall into stride, just a few steps behind Mikey.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Carmy threatens you—though there’s no weight to it—through gritted teeth.

You shove him playfully, bumping your shoulder against his side as the two of you walk, answering with a promise that: “You’ll thank me later.”

—---------------------------------------

You sit on one side of Carmy, Mikey on the other, and you can see why Carmy looks at his older brother like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars above. There’s something different about Michael—something different than when you met him just hours ago outside of the restaurant—as he corrals the three of you into a round of shots.

As the shots of tequila arrive at the bar, Carmy dismisses his, his attention fixed to the still-full whiskey on the rocks he’d ordered earlier, just to appease his older brother. He watches you carefully as you and Mikey clink glasses before throwing back your own respective shots.

“Carm?” Mikey asks, nodding towards the third, untouched shot glass.

Carmy hesitates.

“It’s fine. I’ll take his,” you jump in, half as an attempt to give Carmy the out he so desperately desires, and half because, admittedly, meeting the great Mikey Berzatto makes you a little nervous.

Before anyone can protest, you reach out, picking up the shot glass, before tapping it down against the bar top, fearlessly throwing it back. Michael watches you with a sense of amusement, as your face crinkles in response to the sting of the liquor and the bitterness of the lime you chase it with.

He smirks, sharing a knowing look with his younger brother that says, “I like this girl,” which in turn only causes Carmy to blush. Before Mikey can say anything more, the song that blares through the speakers changes, earning his attention as he hears the familiar words:

“I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today”

“Alright, alright. Think it’s a little too on the nose if I admit that I love this song? On Halloween? C’maaaaaahn,” Mikey asks, almost as if it’s a confession in reference to the easily recognizable Creedance Clearwater revival hit.

“No! No, I love this song,” you’re quick to assuage his hesitation as your eyes light up in response to his recognition.

“You got good taste, kid,” Michael notes confidently, winking in his brother’s direction. “I like this girl, Carm.”

Only this time, he says it out loud. Carmy only shakes his head, the blush already running across his cheeks taking a deeper shade of red.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. You both uh.. Like music,” Carmy smiles, gesturing from you to his brother. At least this is going a lot better than he expected it to, he reminds himself.

“Oh yeah?” Michael asks, clearly intrigued.

“Oh that’s right!” you exclaim, simultaneously. The excitement that brews within you has you stumbling over your words as you manage to get out:

“You’re-, oh my god! The Lennon jacket!”

“What?” Mike asks, shooting you a funny look.

“I’m sorry. I just-. I realize I’m not-,” you stammer over your words, trying your best to explain your earlier exclamation over your own excitement.

“You gave Carmy the denim jacket – the 1950s selvedge Wrangler!”

“Just like the-,” Michael starts, the two of you finishing his sentence at once with:

“... just like the one John Lennon had!”

“Marry this girl, Carm. Marry her right now. Tonight! Or I will,” Michael encourages, slapping his hand down against the bar. He speaks with so much bravado and conviction that you can only imagine that there was none left for Carmy. “Fuckin’ christ. I never should’ve let you two meet,” Carmy groans on an exasperated exhale as he shakes his head once again.

“Oh c’mon, Carm,” Mikey rouses him, with a playful eye roll.

“It’s totally my favorite jacket of his! I-, well, it’s a long story but we actually became friends over the jacket because he spilled a drink on me and-,”

“Ahhh real smooth.”

“No! No, it was okay, I promise. I-, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten to know each other if he hadn’t so-. Call it a lucky jacket, I guess,” you smile, stealing a look in Carmy’s direction. He shoots the smallest smile back to you, cognizant of the fact that Mikey’s observing the entire interaction.

As you begin to tell Michael the story about the aforementioned Lennon jacket, it could be minutes, hours, or days that pass, once you and Mikey finish trading facts about music like they’re trivia cards. It’s almost as entertaining as watching Mikey and Carmy go at it, bouncing facts about the history of denim like you’re at the French Open.

You excuse yourself to the restrooms—partially because you really have to pee and partially because it seems like this evening is going well—wanting to give both brothers some time alone. And as soon as you’re out of earshot, Mikey’s on Carmy like an FBI Investigation.

“This your girl, Carm, or what?" he asks with a casualness to his voice that sets off alarms in Carmy’s head.

"Mikey, stop it,” Carmy dismisses him, hoping more than anything for this to be the end of the conversation.

Instead, Mikey scoffs, shaking his head as he downs another shot.

"Then at least tell me you're hittin' that."

“Michael!" Carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice this time.

"Are you fuckin' serious right now, Bear?” Michael pushes further. “What, you're telling me you're not when she’s walkin’ around in your jacket, talkin’ about wearing your clothes to your big brother and I’m supposed to think-?"

"She's not!” Carmy cuts him off. “She doesn’t do-, she’s.... my friend. Jus’ give it up alright.”

"Shit. Wish I had a friend like that. Ya friends, kid, or are ya... you know... friends?" Mikey smirks, earning a venomous glare from his younger brother.

Carmy shakes his head in response, jaw clenched, as he stares down at the bar top, a feeling inside of him that he doesn’t like when he even thinks about Mikey looking at you like that.

"Shit, I thought I taught you better than that, Bear."

There it is again.

That feeling.

He’s not sure how to name it, but it’s enough to make Carmy want to deck his brother right then and there as it rises inside of him.

"I'm serious, Mike. We’re just friends,” Carmy spits out. He’s much more serious this time. “Cut it out."

But Michael’s too quick, his voice growing louder as he interjects on the tail end of Carmy’s insistence.

"Oh come on! The chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. And I can tell that you like her. I'm not blind, Carm. I see the way you-."

And if it’s as if something snaps inside of Carmy as he exclaims:

"Don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life! Fuck!"

"Carm-."

"Can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?!” he fumes, standing up out of his chair.

His face grows redder with each word, and it only confirms Mikey’s suspicions: that his little brother is absolutely a goner for you. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Carmy like this and he’s torn between feeling proud of his kid brother or pissed that the kid’s turning this around on him.

"Well, if you ever bothered to come home. You know mom's been askin' about you since you never fuckin’-,” Mikey roars, eager to relinquish the hotseat here.

“Oh don't bring mom into this!" Carmy protests.

It’s your voice that snaps him out of it—brings him back to earth as he hears you ask:

“Everything okay?”

Carmy can practically hear his heart pounding away in his ears; can feel the blood rushing through his head as he takes a deep breath. He swallows, takes a beat, then turns to you.

“Yeah uh. I think we should go,” he states, his voice uneven and tense as you try to get a read on either brother.

“Uh… yeah, I guess we can-, um,” you stammer out, wondering how things went from good to hell in a matter of minutes. Carmy mutters something about getting your stuff as you try your best to put the pieces together.

“It was uh, nice to meet you, Mikey,” you say softly, as soon as you get your coat on.

“Yeah. You too, sweetheart,” he nods, something distant in his voice. Carmen scoffs at his brother’s usage of the word before tugging on your arm.

You wait a beat, in anticipation of some kind of goodbye between the brothers, but there is none as you follow Carmy out of the bar.

—---------------------------------------

Halloween, again — in this lifetime:

When Carmy comes to, he can hear the faint sounds of an episode of Pasta Grannies in the background, uncertain of what time it is.

“Hey, you. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” you say, as he begins to sit up. Carmy blinks his eyes a few more times, watching as you make your way from the kitchen island over to the couch, taking a seat at his feet.

“Did you still want to watch a scary movie? You know, in the spirit of the holiday?” you ask him with a soft chuckle.

All Carmy can remember before falling asleep was what he was thinking about: what it would be like if you had met Mikey. It’s something he thinks of often, especially as the two of you grow closer—as your relationship gets more serious—and it’s something he hates that he’ll never be able to give to you.

“This was his favorite holiday,” Carmy manages to get out, the sleep heavy in his voice.

You’re not all that surprised. Carmy’s been on edge lately and you assumed it was because Mikey’s birthday’s coming up. But this… this makes sense too.

“I wish I could’ve met him,” you smile, reaching out for one of his hands.

Carmy nods.

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Think he would’ve loved you.”

Maybe a little too much, he thinks to himself.

“You think so?” you ask with a vulnerability and a desire for reassurance that catches Carmy off guard.

He nods with much more confidence this time, offering you a soft, sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know so.”

458 notes · View notes

rafedarling · 2 months ago

Note

Rustyn goes through a phase where he is very clingy towards the reader and wants to hug and kiss his mother all the time and whenever Drew approaches or kisses the reader, Rustyn becomes irritable because his mother is only for him ,sorry if he gets too involved English is not my first language

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐚, 𝐧𝐨

pairing: dad!drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew loves teasing his little buddy especially now that rustyn has entered a clingy phase. he insists on being the sole recipient of your affection, becoming hilariously territorial whenever drew so much as gives you a kiss.

warning(s): fluff, teasing banter, a possessive toddler, mild suggestive humor between parents, and lots of adorable family dynamics.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe

Rustyn just woke up from his nap as you sat comfortably on the couch, cradling Rustyn in your arms. At two years old, your son was growing fast, but right now, he seemed small and vulnerable as he snuggled against you, freshly awake from his nap. His tiny arms wrapped securely around your neck, and his head rested on your chest, soaking in your warmth.

“You have a good nap, sweetheart?” you murmured softly, running your fingers through his messy hair.

Rustyn nodded sleepily, his body still heavy with the haze of sleep. He hummed contentedly, nestling even closer.

From across the room, Drew’s familiar voice broke the peace.

“Baby,” he called, his tone laced with affection.

You looked up to find your husband leaning casually against the doorway, his blue eyes sparkling as they met yours. He wore his usual easy grin, the kind that made your heart flutter even after all these how many years.

“Hmm?” you replied, your lips curling into a smile.

Drew crossed the room in a few strides, leaning down to kiss you. His lips brushed yours softly.

Before you could reciprocate, however, a firm “No!” interrupted the moment.

You pulled back slightly, startled, and glanced down to see Rustyn glaring up at Drew. His tiny hand shot up, attempting to push Drew away from you.

“Excuse me?” Drew asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He crouched down to Rustyn’s level, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Are you trying to tell me I can’t kiss Mommy?”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, his blue eyes narrowing in determination.

“Mommy’s mine,” he declared, his voice firm despite its high-pitched sweetness.

Drew chuckled, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, really? Well, fyi ‘for your information’, little man, Mommy was my woman first. Before you even existed.”

Rustyn’s face twisted into an exaggerated pout, his small arms tightening possessively around your neck.

“No. Mommy’s mine,” he repeated, his tone unwavering.

You stifled a laugh, brushing a hand over Rustyn’s curls.

“Drew, stop teasing him. He just woke up.”

“But it’s so easy,” Drew said with a grin, leaning down to kiss your temple.

Rustyn immediately reacted, a whiny “No!” escaping him as he pushed at Drew’s shoulder with all his might.

“Alright, alright,” Drew said, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender.

“I’ll back off for now.”

Rustyn gave him a triumphant look, his little chest puffed out as he settled back against you.

You shook your head, biting back a smile.

“You know you’re just making it worse, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“But come on, look at him. He’s like a tiny bodyguard.”

Rustyn’s eyes darted suspiciously toward Drew, as though ensuring he wouldn’t try anything again.

Drew leaned closer to you, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“You think he’s gonna start charging me a toll just to kiss my own wife?”

You laughed quietly, careful not to disturb Rustyn.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s been attached to me like glue all week.”

“Bathroom glue?” Drew asked, raising an eyebrow.

You groaned.

“Yes, even bathroom glue.”

Drew whistled, shaking his head.

“Man, he’s really got me beat.”

The next morning, Drew woke up to the sound of giggles coming from the living room. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and padded down the hallway, stopping in his tracks when he saw you and Rustyn sitting on the floor.

You were still in your pjs, your hair loosely tied back, as Rustyn sat in your lap, clumsily stacking blocks. He was giggling uncontrollably.

Drew leaned against the doorway, with a fond smile across his face.

“Well, don’t I feel left out?”

Rustyn’s laughter ceased abruptly as he looked up, his expression instantly turning wary.

“Good morning, you two,” Drew said, stepping into the room.

He crouched down beside you and reached out to ruffle Rustyn’s hair.

“Morning,” you replied with a smile, tilting your head to kiss Drew on the cheek.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t having it. He quickly turned to block Drew’s path, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

“Mine!” he declared, his voice carrying the authority of someone much older than three.

Drew snorted. “Here we go… again.”

You tried to smooth things over, rubbing Rustyn’s back.

“Rustyn, sweetie, Dada’s just saying good morning.”

“No,” Rustyn said stubbornly, glaring at Drew.

“Wow, sassy” Drew said, sitting back on his heels.

“You really don’t want to share, huh?”

Rustyn shook his head firmly, burying his face in your shoulder.

You sighed, giving Drew an apologetic look.

“He’s in full cling mode right now. It’s a phase.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll remember this when he’s a teenager and wants nothing to do with either of us,” Drew said, though his tone was light.

Rustyn peeked out at Drew, his pout softening slightly.

“Mommy’s mine,” he whispered, as if reiterating his claim.

“Alright, alright, she’s all yours” Drew said, holding up his hands.

Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with his victory.

Drew shook his head, chuckling.

“You know, for someone so small, he’s got a lot of attitude.”

“Wonder where he gets it from,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at Drew.

Drew smirked. “Definitely you.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. Moments like this were your favorite.

By the afternoon, Drew decided it was time to reclaim some territory. While Rustyn was busy playing with his toy cars, Drew sidled up to you in the kitchen.

You were chopping vegetables for lunch when he slipped his arms around your waist from behind.

“Hi,” he murmured against your ear.

“Hello,” you replied, smiling as you leaned into him.

“You know,” Drew began, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “I don’t think Rustyn’s watching right now.”

You turned your head to look at him.

“Drew,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real conviction.

“What? Can’t a husband show his wife some affection?” he asked innocently.

Before you could respond, the sound of tiny feet padding into the kitchen reached your ears.

Rustyn appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowing when he saw Drew holding you.

“No!”

Drew sighed dramatically, releasing you and turning to face Rustyn. “Really? I can’t even hug Mommy now?”

Rustyn marched over, his little fists balled up at his sides.

“No, Dada! Mommy’s mine!”

Drew knelt down to his son’s level, shaking his head.

“You’ve got some nerve, kid.”

Rustyn crossed his arms, his pout deepening.

“Mommy loves me more.”

Drew gasped, clutching his chest as though Rustyn’s words had physically wounded him.

“Oh, that’s cold, buddy. Real cold.”

You laughed, leaning against the counter.

“You walked right into that one.”

Drew looked up at you, his expression mock-wounded.

“You’re supposed to have my back.”

“I’m just enjoying the show,” you teased.

Rustyn, now satisfied that Drew had been properly put in his place, turned back to you and raised his arms. “Mama up, pleaze.”

You obliged, scooping him up and resting him on your hip.

Drew shook his head as he stood. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Rusty.”

Rustyn stuck his tongue out at Drew, prompting you to scold him gently. “Rustyn, be nice to Dada.”

“Yeah, listen to Mommy,” Drew said, grinning.

Rustyn huffed but leaned his head against your shoulder, clearly unwilling to share you anytime soon.

Drew stepped closer, placing a hand on your back.

“One day, buddy, you’re gonna regret pushing me away. You’ll want my advice on girls, sports, life…and I might just remind you of this moment.”

Rustyn didn’t respond, already drifting off into another nap.

You smiled at Drew, your heart full. “You know he loves you, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Drew said, his grin softening into a tender smile.

“But right now, he’s a mommy’s boy so...”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you added knowingly.

Drew nodded, wrapping an arm around you both.

“Not for a second.”

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fanfic #drew x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot

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7kh · 1 month ago

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༉ how greedy she is.

cw — wlw. fem!reader. riding (r!receiving). belly bulge. praise. slight praise kink if you squint a little… vi being a little greedy freak /aff. (i managed to push this out b4 her bday ended!! happy birthday, violet <3.)

giving in to your temptations of sitting on vi’s lap has gotten you to a… very salacious position.

it started off simple—‘innocent’. you sat on her lap as your arms wrapped around her neck, resting on her shoulder cuddling while she read some book. you should’ve known you were in trouble the minute she put it down without saying nothing. it started with not-so-subtle rubs and caresses on your waist and stomach. then her greedy hands went down to your thighs and squeezed the supple flesh, her brain going numb by the way it pillowed on her fingers. then her hips bucked into yours, earning her a small gasp from you. it didn’t take you two long at all to start full on fucking.

you moaned into her mouth, feeling all of your intelligence and common sense being thrown away as you felt her hands guiding your hips to fuck you stupid. you didn’t even need to do anything. a part of you felt bad, that she was doing all of the work and you were just… passive. but any protests melted away in your mind because she was just fucking you so good.

you babbled nonsense into her ear, lips trembling as her cock kissed all of the right places, places vi knew would make you spill more of your rich essence on her dick and her lap. her hips craned into yours, a throaty sound coming from you as a bulge peaked through your tummy. “look at that..” she cooed, making you pulse on her cock.

“violet— fuck, vi,” your vision went blurry, ears blocking out everything but her voice. that damned stupid, beautiful voice. so gentle yet firm and assertive when she has to be. she leaned over to give you searing hot kisses on your neck, appreciating the way your throat moved to let out a string of expletives caused by a very calculated move of her hips. the way she doesn’t have to do much with her muscular frame yet could still make you a broken, wet, and whiney mess turned the both of you on immensely.

“it’s okay, i got you. so beautiful, so fuckin’ good f’me…” tears threatened to spill from her praise. your pretty moans prodded her more, long, deep strokes pushing you further and further to the edge. “mmnnfuckkk, vi! gonna make me cum, gonna, gonna—“ vi didn’t say anything else, just letting you surrender to her as you came impossibly hard. you sobbed on her shoulder, heart feeling like it was beating out of your chest as you sat on her cock, squirming a little at the feeling. she let one of her hands reach up to your chin, licking the fallen tears and placing soft kisses on your cheek as you rode out your orgasm.

she let you stay like that for a while, letting you catch your breath on your shoulders as she whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“you’re the worst..” you whispered playfully, your body feeling her laugh against you. “and we’re going for another.”

#⊹ folasade’s work.#vi x reader #vi smut #vi arcane #lesbian #arcane #arcane smut #vi arcane smut #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi x black reader #arcane x black reader #x black reader

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crushpunky · 2 months ago

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drew and actress!reader do the “we listen and we don’t judge” challenge

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

cute lil suggestion <3

Y/n set her phone up with a smile on her lips, Drew sitting next to her at their kitchen island, his hair messy as he took a sip of coffee. The two of them had finally gotten out of bed after an hour of cuddling in the early morning light of their bedroom, chatting and showing each other videos the other thought they’d like. After making the two of them coffee, y/n decided it would be fun to make a little video of their own.

“Ok, let’s go.” Y/n grinned, pressing record and sitting back on her stool.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” The two of them said, Drew looking at y/n with a quirk of his brow as he anticipated y/n’s answer.

“The real reason I got a black eye last summer was because I ran into the wall when I was on my phone, not because I fell while shooting.” Y/n bit her lip. Drew already knew that, having witnessed the incident, but the two of them had agreed to keep up the lie to spare the embarrassment and teasing from the rest of the cast.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” The two of them said.

“Sometimes I pretend to be asleep just so I can listen to you talk to yourself in the morning.” Drew smirked. Y/n had a habit of talking to herself in preparation for the day, sometimes even singing a bit as she got around. It was a habit Drew found endearing, but he knew if she knew he was awake she would stop… so he pretended to be asleep.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” They said.

“When we first moved in together I was nervous to… poop in our bathroom and would walk to Madelyn’s apartment every time I had to go to the bathroom.” Y/n giggled. Drew’s cheeks flushed, trying his best not to spit out his coffee.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” The two of them said.

“When we first moved in together I was nervous to poop in our bathroom and would walk to Austin’s apartment every time I had to go to the bathroom.” Drew said. Y/n’s jaw dropped, the two of them laughing at their common secret.

“So nobody pooped in our bathroom for the first few months we lived together?” Y/n asked with a giggle.

“I had a crush on you! I didn’t want you to think I was gross.” Drew blushed, swirling his coffee aimlessly. Y/n pouted playfully before pressing a kiss to Drew’s cheek.

“Ok, ok. Back to business.” Y/n said.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” They said.

“I have a folder of edits of you on my Tik Tok I watch when I miss you.” Y/n laughed, covering her face as Drew tried to hold back his giggles.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” The two of them said.

“One time when I was really drunk I accidentally used like all of your really nice shampoo and blamed it on my sister when she was visiting.” Drew smirked, biting his lip. “I had a buzzcut at the time too, so I don’t know what inspired me to do that.”

“I knew it wasn’t her!” Y/n gasped.

“We don’t judge! We don’t judge!” Drew said, raising his hands in surrender.

“Yes, yes, sorry.” Y/n smiled.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” They said.

“The first time you made me Mama Jodi’s casserole I think you messed something up because I got really bad food poisoning, but I didn’t want to tell you because you were so excited.” Y/n said quickly. Drew’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping at her confession.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” They said together.

“I asked my mom for her ring after only four months of us dating.” Drew said, a blush spreading across his cheeks. She had known the ring he had proposed to her with was his mothers, updated by Drew to match y/n’s own taste, and she knew he had been holding onto it for a while, but she didn’t realize just how long.

“Are you serious?” Y/n raised her brows in surprise, her stomach fluttering.

“I knew you were it for me.” Drew said with a simple shrug. Y/n felt her cheeks grow warm as she flung her arms around Drew’s broad shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you and your big, romantic heart, Starkey.” Y/n grinned up at him, her arms still resting on his shoulders. Drew smiled back at her, his eyes scanning over her face with a smile on his lips.

“I love you… even if you have a folder of saved Tik Toks of me—” Drew giggled.

“We don’t judge!” Y/n laughed.

“We don’t judge.” Drew grinned, pressing a quick kiss to y/n’s nose before ending the video.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x actress!reader #actress!reader

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