#mavis writes

[sugurusfavemonkey]

roommate!ino takuma who you thank your lucky stars over every day because when your former roommate moved out, the bills started pilling up and you had to find someone else, ino was dropped right in your lap.

roommate!ino takuma who is funny and sweet and quickly becomes a good friend, easily charming you with his golden retriever persona and cute smile.

roommate!ino takuma who is still a man at the end of the day.

roommate!ino takuma who sometimes leaves the toilet seat up or dishes on the sink, but he always makes an effort to listen and learn when you complain.

roommate!ino takuma who, despite doing everything right - picking and cleaning up after himself, still manages to drive you mad with his stupid beanie.

roommate!ino takuma whose black garment is a staple in his closet, but also a staple in annoying you, because, no matter how many times you reach over to straighten it over his floppy brown hair, it's always crooked.

"ino! get your ass here right now!" you call as you watch him crusade from his room and into the kitchen conjoint to the living room.

roommate!ino takuma who stops in his tracks and heeds to your words immediately.

"yes, my lovely, beautiful, incredible, perfect roommate?"

"why is your stupid hat always crooked?!" you pretend to ignore his words as he stops right in between your legs and bends down so his face is closer to yours, but you still feel blood rushing to your cheeks. you carefully push the right side of the wooly beanie up so it sits straight across his forehead avoiding ino's watchful eyes and cheeky grin, gaze set firmly on the black cloth. "there."

"thank you, love of my life!" ino smacks a loud kiss on your cheek before sauntering away with a large beam.

you splutter meaningless words in your flustered state, face growing warmer if that was even possible.

roommate!ino takuma who swears it was love at first sight when he knocks at the door to the apartment his friend had mentioned needed a second tenant and you open it.

roommate!ino takuma who purposedly pulls one corner of his black beanie lower than the other every time he leaves his room ever since you first reached over to adjust it in hopes that you will do it again (you always do).

a/n: trying out this form of writing for funsies, but i don't think it's for me... i'm seriously considering making this into a full fic, i just had to drop this short drabble before the idea vanished.

UPDATE: it's happening! First installment to the short series here!

©sugurusfavemonkey 2025┃all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate or otherwise modify this work

[violetheart77]

Happy Pride Month

[happilychee]

fairy tail characters and light pt.2

♡ gajeel is the flash of light on a blade. swinging through the air, the zing of metal on metal. you almost buckle under the weight of his strike, but you've never felt more alive, a dragon's roar in your chest.

♡ loke is the glint of gold on passersby. a luxurious watch here, a sparkly earring there. here one moment and gone the next, shining so fast you would've missed it. you hear his voice in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. you look beautiful today.

♡ minerva is the glow of an aquarium display. blue, green, even purple bounce off the walls as fish swim overhead. admiration and wonder, a never before seen occurrence leaving her in awe.

♡ sting is the sunlight dotting the path of a lush green forest. playful, flickering, an ethereal moment. you twirl on the grass, admiring how the light dances over your arms the way his fingers dance over your skin.

♡ lucy is the golden glow of a curtained window late at night. it's witching hour, and the streets are quiet, save for the click-clack of a typewriter and the rustling of paper. a shadow moves, standing up to stretch as she waits for your return.

♡ mavis is the flicker of a candle, illuminating her ghostly face. sometimes she's in the office, dainty fingers trailing over dusty books, helping you read the titles. othertimes, she's in the infirmary, watching over an injured guild member and keeping the shadows at bay. out of the corner of your eye, you watch her image flicker out, and you wonder if she was ever there at all.

[venus-light]

What we seek, however, is not power over people, but the power of control of our own destiny:

ALL POWER TO THE PEOPLE!

// Become Ungovernable, Medium // BLACK PANTHER PARTY’S FREE BREAKFAST PROGRAM (1969-1980) // The Genius of Huey P. Newton, CounterPunch // Abi Thorn’s Trans Power Speech Transcript // Nina Cried Power, Hozier ft. Mavis Staples // Jackboot Jump, Hozier // Backlash Blues, Nina Simone // Be, Hozier // Take Me To Church, Hozier // Tomorrow is My Turn, Nina Simone

[traintrainingmontage]

Hmm... So for the prompts thing, do you think you could do one with some of the diesels (do your favourites) playing Uno please? :)

Hehehe, this is a lovely idea! Thank you for the prompt! It got a good laugh out of me, so let's see how this goes...

(Humanized engines for this one so that they have the benefit of hands.)

(Want to see me write for a prompt of your own? Details here!)

One mid-summer evening saw a truly odd assortment of figures sitting around the living room table of a well-furnished, albeit slightly "vintage"-looking Wellsworth apartment.

In one doily-laced chair sat a woman with elegantly curled blonde hair, lusciously red lipstick, and a Coach-branded purse, all of which paled in comparison to her eye-catchingly bright green pencil-skirt-and-blazer ensemble. What was even more incredible was the sheer confidence that enabled her to pull off such an audacious look. "Well, I don't know about YOU, Mavis, but I'm afraid that I'll have to move the game along, now! Look at THAT."

With a flourish of her manicured nails, the transfixing Ms. Daisy pulled a single card from her hand and placed it atop the pile, revealing that only four cards were left. However, far more importantly was the card she had played, that being a green Draw 2 card. "Rejoice, my darlings, as this round will soon belong to me!" she crowed, unable to contain her joy.

"Hmph! I wouldn't be so sure, Daisy," came the heated retort from Daisy's left. The game's next player was a sturdily built woman in a yellow and black crop top, dark gray overalls, and red socks, whose well-worn work boots were at rest by the doorway and thick jacket hung up in the hall. "So what if I have to draw two? I bet this won't go so well for you!" Mavis quickly took her two cards, but a flick of the wrist quickly revealed the source of the woman's confidence: a green Reverse card, pointed right back at Daisy, who gnashed her pearly teeth in disdain.

"OOOOOOH! Mavis, you... you! UGH!" Daisy drew a card from the Draw pile, pouting all the while as she added said card to her hand. Mavis, now with seven cards in her hand, grinned triumphantly.

"Goodness, you two sure are cutthroat. No wonder we can't play poker anymore." This cheeky reply came from the player on Daisy's right, who was clad in a full-body orange jumpsuit and could often be seen subconsciously adjusting their hijab. Although their words could be taken as rude, their easy smile and the laughter in their voice showed that they weren't being serious. Finally, they picked a card and placed it on the pile, this one being a Wild card. "Alright, we're going with yellow."

"Yellow again, Rusty?" Mavis groaned, narrowing her eyes at the shortest among them. "Did you just manage to get every yellow card in the entire deck?"

Rusty simply shrugged, a twinkle of amusement in their eye. "Don't ask me; BoCo shuffled."

As summoned by the sound of his name, their host shuffled out of the kitchen, removing his apron as he did so. Dressed in a kelly-green button-up with simple black pants, Beaufort Connor Metrovick was somehow the most understated of the assembled group. BoCo took his place at the table, giving a relieved sigh once he learned that he hadn't missed his turn. "Alright, what's the color?"

"Yellow."

"Yellow again, Rusty? Let me see... Draw 2, Mavis."

"DAMN IT!"

With a snarl, Mavis drew two more cards from the deck, muttering to herself all the while. However, her dismay soon turned into a grin of triumph as she looked over at Daisy, grabbing for one of her newly drawn cards and practically throwing it on the pile. The group's eyes went wide as the card was revealed: a Wild Draw 4, aimed squarely at Daisy.

"Ohhhhh, no you don't," Daisy groused, staring daggers at her aggressor as she pointed a sharp finger in her direction. "You have eight cards! There's NO possible way you don't have a yellow card!"

"Are you challenging me, Daisy?" Mavis smiled, her grin almost predatory with the thrill of victory.

Her confidence made Daisy retract her finger, hesitation now worming its way through her. To challenge Mavis and lose meant that she would be drawing six cards, AND lose her turn, to boot! But with so many cards in her hand, there was no way Mavis could back up such a play. She had to be bluffing. She had to be!!

Rusty simply watched this showdown play out in tense, expectant silence. Daisy and Mavis had always been good friends, but game night brought out their competitive streaks, and it was the most entertainment Rusty got to have all week, besides Duncan doing... Duncan things. BoCo, for his part, was keeping an eye on his watch and hoping that he was getting the timing right on his pot roast, but still found time to lock eyes with Rusty and give the other a cheerful wink.

Finally, Daisy made a decision. "Alright, Mavis! Show me your hand!" With deliberate slowness, Mavis rose from her seat, and with exaggerated grace, revealed her hand to her opponent. A green 7... a blue 1... a red 5... a green Skip... Daisy's eyes desperately jumped from one card to another, but she felt her heart sink in her chest. Despite Mavis' large hand, there was indeed not a single yellow among them, no matter how many times Daisy looked or checked for stuck cards.

At last, Mavis pulled away, leaving Daisy to hang her head in disgrace. Steadfastly displeased, but not about to lose any more of her dignity, Daisy reached forward and drew six cards, brow furrowing in increased displeasure. "Red," Mavis smirked as she sat back down, pure satisfaction dripping from that one word.

However, before Rusty could dare to consider what card to play next, a loud riiiiing came from the kitchen. Daisy glanced up at it like it was her lifeline, while Mavis frowned. Barely suppressing a smile, Rusty looked over at BoCo. "Is that dinner?"

"Sure is," the taller man smiled, a hint of relief on his face. "Pot roast's ready. Let's take a break from this and go eat, alright?"

"Yes!" Daisy practically shrieked, while Mavis simply shrugged and stood up once more.

The four made their way into the kitchen, ready to enjoy their meal, and over glasses of wine, delicious food, laughter, and good company, it could only be said that for these four friends, game night was anything but a bore.

[eflen-n-reegee]

Big Sister Mavis Dracula Headcanons (Hotel Transylvania)

Suggested by Anon

She absolutely LOVES having you around. Not only are you the little sibling she never had, but your presence takes some of Dracula’s attention off of her, so she can go adventuring without worrying about him.

Speaking of Drac, he kept, like, ALL of Mavis’s old toys. Mavis is happy to pass them over to you.

She loves dressing you up in her clothes and pretending that you’re her little henchling.

On special occasions, she reads you the book her mother wrote for her.

She always wants to hear about human stuff. Even things that seem mundane to you are fascinating to her.

But talking only does so much; why not SHOW her the human world? The two of you go on little adventures to a nearby town where you can show her how humans live.

Just like Dracula, Mavis loves to take you flying; but she likes to perform more aerial tricks than he does. Be prepared to get a little dizzy!

The food Mavis likes usually doesn’t sit well in your stomach, so she learns to cook some of your favorite human meals.

When you’re playing chase games, she will occasionally run up the wall so you can’t catch her. It’s totally cheating, but it’s also kinda funny.

Like any big sibling, Mavis sometimes wants a break from you; but she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. The perfect solution? Hypnosis! “You want to play by yourself for an hour.”

[maverickcalf]

Hello gang, I have exciting news! I finished chapter 16 of Hometown Skies! You can read it here:

CHAPTER 16 of HOMETOWN SKIES

Summary: Goose fills Maverick in on what Viper said and Maverick learns what true friends are like.

[remembertheplunge]

September 6, 2020

Sunday

1:30pm

Rasputin’s (parking lot)

So, it’s mid Labor Day weekend. KPFA radio this morning was next to silent regarding Pandemic Protests. There was some railing away on Trump.

The Sunday Modesto Bee was La Dee da, like it’s just another Sunday.

At the almost 6 month mark (of the Covid Pandemic) the elephants in the living room are becoming invisible, with a viral tidal wave potentially forming on the horizon.

Walking to Preservation Coffee 1/2 hour ago, 40 young people, outside Commonwealth restaurant, were crowded together at outside tables with no masks.

Shades of denial blind us to the viral storm.

 On KPFA radio Kevin Vance played one of his "Across the Great Divide"  shows today from Labor Day 2018. “A time when things were normal” per Kevin.

Normal?

In 2018, the “have nots”, like the poor and the homeless, were being steam rolled by society.They were expected to to stay in their place. Cruel and unusual was the usual.

The pandemic ushered in a wave of change.

The" have nots" spoke through riot and protest, just as Martin Luther King said they would.

September 2020 is a much healthier normal than was the of 2018.

And, with Trump pouring gas on the fire via his hate and vitriol, there will be an explosion of revolution.

Mavis Staples wails out “keep your eyes on the prize, hold on” on my Apple Play as I write.

End of entry

Notes: 1/17/2025

The protests that I am referring to in the above are George Floyd-- Black Live’s Matter protests. Trump was running against Biden for President. Trump said ugly things then just as he does today. 

I think that now, pre Trump's inauguration Jan 20, 2025, we are like passengers on a jet liner that is going down out of control. All we can do is hold on in brace position waiting until we hit ground. That’s when you’ll know what to do. Once Trump is President, we will see what they do. Then, we will know what to do. 

During Covid Pandemic days, I would get a coffee at Preservation Coffee, drive to Rasputin’s parking lot, sit in my car and write. Often, as I wrote I listened to Mavis Staples songs of gospel activism. They were soothing and inspiring in the dark pandemic days.

[mrbexwrites]

Writing share tag

Tagged by the fantastic @talesofsorrowandofruin, as well as @indigowriting here :) Passing the tag onto @queen-tashie @sarahlizziewrites @spideronthesun @the-golden-comet @cwritesfiction + open tag (As always, I'm behind with the tag games!) I've been editing my first draft of Blood Covenant and have needed to do some re-writes to clarify some scenes! Anyway, here's Mave having a small, existential crisis:

“What’s your assessment?” Arnuald turned his piercing eye on me. “I didn’t have anything to do with this!” I replied too quickly, the guilt stirring in my stomach. I felt like I was balanced on the edge of a precipice, staring down into an abyss. I had a choice to make; remain loyal to my father, remember my training, my purpose, my mission…or forge a new path, alone. [...] Deep in my jacket pockets, I clenched and unclenched my fists as my thoughts swirled. I took a deep breath, and squared my shoulders. I turned on my heel, leaving Arnauld to continue his whispered discussion with Anton. Connor, his face pale with worry, continued to pace back and forth as he tried to call his sister again. I let myself into Anton’s car,unnoticed by the others, having taken his keys from his pocket when I bumped into him earlier. The engine roared as I put my foot down on the accelerator, and I felt the road stretch ahead of me. I was tired of being rudderless, of not being in the fight, of not having a purpose. I was still a shepherd, and I had chosen which flock I would protect.

[antzinha]

Woah splatoon headcanon thingy.. I am not good at wording my ideas and whatnot really well so some parts might be weird to read but overall I think I got the point across well

[sugurusfavemonkey]

say you'll be my darlin' - kento nanami (2/2)

*image: soshiu_pasu*

valentine's day special summary: kento just made you not only his valentine but also his girlfriend (this is where the pure and unadulterated smut comes in - minors do not interact) part 1/2

Kento's plan had only encompassed providing you with a memorable Valentine's day and, perhaps, building a foundation for a relationship with you in the near future. Yet, somehow, he had gone and gotten himself a girlfriend.

The term felt so juvenile, yet he couldn't care less because he felt young. The knowledge that you were just as enraptured created a bubble of blissful elation Nanami had no intention of bursting.

He had piled up the plates and was in the process of standing up, having just pushed his chair from underneath the table when you sprung up from your seat, startling the poor man.

"The restroom is-" he tried to direct you as you made your way around the table, assuming you wanted to use the toilette, but you hushed Nanami by wedging yourself between him and the table. "Sweetheart?" the way he looked up at you in question nearly had you losing your nerve.

You steeled yourself though, swallowing hard and placing your hands on his shoulders. Kento, for all his puzzlement, opened up his knees to make space for you in between his legs but remained otherwise neutral. The way his jaw clenched and hands flexed on his thighs wasn't lost on you, bless his heart.

"I want to show my appreciation to you. May I?" you spoke quietly into the otherwise silent room.

He wetted his dry lips with his tongue and your eyes immediately dropped to follow the brief gesture before mirroring it while he searched your face with a weighted gaze, "we haven't even had dessert yet."

"I have the dessert I want right here, Kento." You slapped yourself in the back for the quick comeback and the hitch it elicited in Kento's breath.

"I don't want to be disrespectful-"

"You've been a perfect gentleman all night. Hell! All your life, I'd bet," you stopped him before he took the blame for your forwardness. "Tell me I'm moving too fast and I'll stop."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Kento smiled gently up at you. The position you put yourself in rendered both of you vulnerable in different ways and you cherished how he so easily entrusted you with seeing this side of him.

"Hmm…" you shook your head, "consent goes both ways."

"I adore how thoughtful you are, my love."

You're unsure if it's the pet name or the intensity behind his gaze, but a shiver ran down your spine.

"I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. This dinner, the flowers… they don't require any retribution," Kento assured you once more, insistent, but you knew he was merely making sure to give you an out in case that's what you wanted.

"I know that. But I want to," you assured him, hopefully conveying just how much you meant the words with your eyes as well. "Consider it my gift to you. I am your Valentine too after all, am I not?"

You didn't give him a chance to answer before you sat on his lap, each of your legs wrapping around his waist. At first, Kento hesitated, his hands hovering awkwardly until they found your hips and slowly glided up to settle on your waist.

You leaned closer until your breaths mingled together and your head spun dangerously with his aromatic fragrance taking over your senses. Nanami is the one who closed the space between you, eyes falling shut as your lips connected.

It's nothing more than a peck, full of unspoken feelings and repressed longing. The air feels charged with tension, your heart pulsing loudly in your ears, temperature running hot at the sheer brush of his warm lips to yours.

He nudged your nose with his before giving you another peck. And another. And then pressing for a bit longer, more intensely, tilting his head so his lips fit better with yours. You let your hands follow the natural curve of his shoulder, one sliding down his back and the other finding its way into the buzzed hair on the back of his head.

With the first brush of his tongue, you were ruined. You opened up to him like a blooming flower. Your entire body tingled pleasantly as he let himself consume you and you let yourself be consumed. Warm muscle exploring and mapping out your mouth sensually.

Nanami felt as if a dam was breaking as he poured the yearning from every moment he had spent craving you into the kiss, his hands tightening on your waist until you were sure he had left fingerprints on your skin. You pressed yourself even closer, moaning into the kiss when that did nothing to relieve the ache you felt, your teeth briskly clashing together in your haste.

You only separated when the need for air became too much to bear, a string of spit still connecting your lips.

"You have no idea what you do to me." Kento gasped.

"I think I do." You chirped teasingly as you ground yourself down on his lap, feeling a distinct hardness pressing into your covered center.

"Fuck." That night was full of firsts because you're absolutely certain you had never heard Kento cuss before. "Don't do that," he warned you, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Or what?" You challenged with a giggle as you did the exact opposite, pressing yourself down on him once more. Whimpering at the silver of pleasure it gave you, a teaser of what was to come.

Kento almost growled your name, his breath labored, red blossoming from his exposed upper chest and neck. He gave you no indication before he pushed the dirty dishes further up the table and picked you up with ease, laying you on the table in front of him and leaning over your sprawled form, his body slotted between your spread thighs ad he kissed you again with even more fervor.

Or that, you guessed.

His lips drifted down to your jaw and then to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin, all while rutting into you rhythmically. His ministration had you gasping for air, your head lolling back to the table. You whined pitifully when he abruptly detached himself from you.

"Sit up for me, love" He commanded. And you obeyed… How could you not when you had Kento Nanami in between your legs? His fingers held onto the hem of your top, giving it a few impish tugs, "may I?"

You nodded, wordlessly lifting your arms to aid him in removing the offending cloth. His eyes fell to your cleavage and his mouth fell open, pupils taking over until you could barely see his iris. You used his distraction to remove your bra, throwing it aside the same he had done to your top. Kento let out a guttural sound, something feral from deep within as his hands softly caressed your breasts.

"You're so beautiful," he huffed before he leaned down, pushing you back on the table surface with another kiss. You heard the crashing sound of some dish falling to the ground but neither of you paid it any mind, too absorbed in each other. His lips drifted down to your jaw and then to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin, all while rutting into you rhythmically. Kento's ministration had you gasping for air, your head lolling back to the table.

"K-Kento!"

"Yes, love?" you felt his chest vibrating with his low croon against your skin.

"Please," your fingers searched for purchase on the cotton of his shirt fruitlessly, you feared your nails could have even ripped the material in your desperate pursuit.

"What do you need? Tell me." Nanami had his hands on your chest, massaging the skin nimbly.

"Touch me," you were very close to just begging for it.

"Hmm, but I am touching you."

You rolled your eyes in both pleasure in exasperation, unsurprised his matter-of-fact manners came out even then.

"For f-fuck's sake. Don't- ah," he pinched one of your nipples. "Don't make me spell it out, Ken."

"Right here?" He questioned as he squeezed your tit. "Or maybe here?" The palm of one hand pressed to your covered mound as his middle and ring fingers found your clit even through your clothes and pressed down hard. You moaned.

"Yes! Yes, right there! Please!"

"How could I ever deny you when you beg so sweetly?"

His finger moved to your pants, teasing the button as he searched your face for permission. You huffed a breathy "yes", nodding wildly.

With your consent, Kento unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, pulling them down as he let himself fall to his knees in front of you. Right where he belonged, he thought to himself. He removed both of your shoes, hands stopping to massage your heels before your pants were off. Kento held your leg by your ankle, dropping a few kisses to your calf before setting it down and making space between your legs by pushing your thighs apart.

You lifted yourself on your elbows to peer down at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

"I thought I was the one showing my appreciation?"

"What if I want to show my appreciation as well?"

"You already," Kento kissed up the supple skin of your thighs making your voice tremble. "Hmm, you already did. It's my turn."

"Then let me have this. Worshipping you is the greatest pleasure you could bestow me, love."

"Kento! I-" He bit down on your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him the most, "Ah! Fuck! That's n-not fair."

He nuzzled at your pussy through the soaked lace of your flimsy panties, fingers wrapping around each of your legs to keep them open when the sudden touch had you trying to squeeze them together, "did you wear these for me?"

"Just for you, Kento. All for you," you sighed.

"Look at you. So pretty. So wet too," he murmured contently, his eyes locked on the wet patch on your underwear, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin with each word.

Your hand found its way into his hair, nails brushing his scalp when he finally dared to lick a stripe over the thong, a pointer finger sliding it to the side before doing it again.

Kento outwardly moaned when he tasted your slickness on his tongue, "you taste divine, my love. So much better than I imagined."

You wanted to tease him, question how many times he pictured that scenario, just how often he touched himself to the thought of you, but you could only cry out as he slid his tongue through your folds, the tip of his tongue flicking over your clit and your finger tangle in the strands of his hair.

You whimpered at the wet heat of his mouth on you. It felt like he was trying to devour you, pussy first. His tongue alternated between flicking over your clit playfully and running along your folds. It made you moan as you ground your hips upward. His tongue finally relented its attack on your clit., thrusting deeper into your heat. Nanami groaned, loving the feeling as you tugged on his hair to push his face deeper into your cunt. His cock twitched in his pants, precum probably staining through his briefs and pants.

"Fuck, Ken. Feels so good," you panted.

Nanami glanced up to meet your lidded eyes. The sight of your flushed cheeks had him moaning into your pussy, his hips thrusting helplessly in the air at the same time you jerked your hips. He stopped momentarily and snaked an arm up, pointer and middle fingers breaching through your parted lips and pressing down on your tongue, "wet them for me, love."

You clamped your lips around his fingers promptly, sucking in your cheeks as your tongue twirled around them until there was drool spilling from the corner of your mouth.

Kento pecked your lower lips without breaking the eye contact, "such a good girl."

His praise went straight to your cunt, creating even more slick. You could feel a puddle forming on the table underneath you with how wet you were.

His hand slid from your mouth, down your jaw and followed the curve of your neck only to pause briefly to grope your tit and give your nipple a firm tug before continuing on his trajectory down your body, the heel of his palm pressing firmly to your lower stomach just as his lips attached themselves to your cunt again. You kept making small sounds through it all, breath hitching with each of the breaks he took in the path.

Nanami used his wet fingers to rub small circles on your clit, eating you out like a man starved, craving to have your release on his tongue. You started babbling incoherently, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes when the feeling became too much.

For a second you thought you felt him spelling his name on your clit with his digits, but that could also have been something your fuzzy brain came up with.

"I'm s-so close! Ah!" You moan loudly, "gonna cum-"

And then the coil snap, black spots taking over your vision as pleasure explodes inside your veins, thighs shaking and squeezing his head, Kento only groans as he eagerly lapped up your slick. He worked you through your high until you were pushing his head away.

You're a panting mess, laying there on his dinner table as you try to recover and all Kento could think as he stood up was that you looked like a dream.

"Are you alright?" Kento rubbed the outside of your thighs up and down, still slotted in between them.

"Yup. Just- Help me up?"

"Of course!"

He quickly stepped back holding both of your hands firmly so you could anchor yourself as you sat up and then slid to the ground on unsteady legs. You took a deep breath and mumbled a hoarse "thank you". Once you were certain your legs wouldn't fail you, you squeezed his hands, signaling it would be fine to let you go.

Your eyes drifted to the wet patch and the very clear tent on his pants. You couldn't help but feel a new wave of desire watching over you. You licked your lips and stepped until you were flush against him, fisting the lapels of his shirt and pulling him down. You didn't care that he tasted like you or that his lips were still stained with your juices as you eagerly kissed him. Kento hummed into the kiss, arms circling your waist.

He let you take the reins, felt your clumsy fingers struggle to open each of the buttons of his shirt, and helped when you pushed the open garment down his shoulders and arms. Nanami only stopped you when you tried to unbuckle his belt, his large hands circling your wrists and pulling them up. You whined into the kiss, biting his lower lip and pulling away.

"Let me return the favor. Please."

"Fuck. Tasting you got on the very edge of the precipice I wouldn't last if you went down on me, beautiful."

"That's fine, I-"

"It's not fine," he cut you off, placing a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. "It's not fine because right now I need to fuck you. Will you let me?"

You shivered, lips parting in wonder. The tension on his shoulders and blown pupils did little to hide his hunger and you weren't faring much better, "yes, please."

You were embarrassed by the shriek you let out as he easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and walked around as if you weighed less than a feather, "I promise I'll give you a tour of the apartment tomorrow morning," (which he does so after bringing you a lovely arranged tray with breakfast in bed and spoon feed you yogurt with chopped fruit before you finally have enough and push him down on the bed to suck him dry).

His strength became even more pronounced when he held you up with only one arm to open the door to his bedroom and before you knew it, he had you laid down and spread over the comforter on his mattress. You admired his shifting muscles as he toed off his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and removed his pants until he was standing before you in only his briefs. Nanami was truly a sight for sore eyes, with his mussed-up hair (probably your fault), heaving chest, and deep v-line that gave way and pointed down to a badly concealed dick. 'Happy trail' never felt like a more fitting moniker, the meticulously trimmed blonde hair a path to paradise.

"You're beautiful," you had been so engrossed in gawking at him that you failed to notice he had been doing the exact same to you, soft hazel eyes then meeting yours. You knew that small compliment had you blushing, you started to sit up, legs going to fall close, but Kento stopped the movement by kneeling between them, "don't. Let me see you."

"Fine. But you gotta let me see you too," you bargained with a tip of your chin to his cock. You knew for a fact he was positively packing since the shape of it was so clearly apparent too.

"That can be easily arranged."

You watched in bated breath as he slid his briefs down, revealing his thick, veiny… perfect cock. The tip is red and angry, precum dripping down its sides. You caught yourself wondering if he would even fit.

Kento kneeled back on the bed and jerked you forward on the bed so your head rested on a pillow and climbed after you. He reached above you for his wallet on the bedside table and picked through it until he found a condom and dropped both back on the bed, his attention shifting back to you.

"We don't have to use it. I'm on the pill. And I trust."

He wasn't sure if his cock twitched over the prospect of feeling you whole, with no barriers or if it was your trust that turned him on so much.

"My last annual check-up came up clean, but I will do nothing you don't want to, love."

"I want to feel you, Kento. Every inch of you," you were trying to go for seducing, but you were pretty sure you just sounded desperate.

He pressed a finger to your entrance, thumb catching your clit in mean circles to test the waters, and then a second finger, thrusting them lightly. It's when he starts scissoring them to prepare you for what was to come that you let yourself melt.

"Ken, I'm ready, please," you cried wantonly, fingers digging into the comforter as your entire body quivered.

"Are you, love?"

"Hmhmm. So ready." You nodded maniacally, desperate for more. Famished for him.

He slotted his thighs to yours, opening you up for him, and coated himself in your slick as he rubbed his cockhead head up and down your folds, his lips falling apart, gaze locked on the tantalizing motion. When it caught on your entrance you whined, arms reaching to pull him in closer and ankles locking behind his back, miserably trying to pull him in. Kento smirked and finally pushed the first inch inside. Your mouth fell open and your head lolled back at the stretch, nails digging into his back.

He hissed, shifting to his forearms and he ducked his head down to kiss you, pushing further in, feeling your tightness envelop him until he's bottomed out. You gasped into the kiss. It felt like he was so far inside of you he reached your guts.

It was perfection. Pure, unadulterated perfection. Kento was certain he had just made it into heaven.

"Fuuuuuck," you whined pathetically, "you fill me up so good."

He held to your waist as if he was scared you were only a figment of his imagination as he gradually started to move his hips.

You were putty under his ministrations, holding on for dear life and he fucked you nice and slow.

"Kento," you panted, tilting your head back as he kissed down your throat. He ground deep into your cunt, grunting as you tightened around him.

"You're doing so good for me, my love."

The room was hot and sticky, your bodies moving in tandem. Your little sobs with each new thrust like music to his ears. More than heaven, Kento felt home and, given the chance, he would spend the rest of his life worshipping you. He was so fucking close, but he needed you to cum alongside him.

You cried when he adjusted the angle, "fuck, keep going. Right there!" You supplicated.

Nanami complied, hitting that same spot with hard thrusts and a precision that upheld his title as the 7:3 sorcerer. His hand found your clit again and your breath hitched. He sped up then, hitting your sweet spot again and again and again until you're nothing but a drooly mess.

"It's like you were made for me," he whispered reverently and the praise was all you needed as his next thrust shoved you over the edge. You clamped down around his cock crying out.

When you came, Kento groaned into your skin, working you through it until he felt you go lax. He slid He slides his hands under your ass, lifting you as he shuffled onto his haunches, and he sunk impossibly deeper into your pussy.

"Ah. you're so fucking deep," you panted, completely at his mercy as he began to rock you on top of his cock.

"You're talking me so well,” He promised, watching his cock disappear inside your dripping cunt, lost in the pleasure of being inside of you.

His eyes flickered to yours, an angel spread on his bed for him and moaned. Not even his sweetest dreams could've conjured such image… such feeling.

"I-I think I'm close again. Ken, I'm- Oh, fuck! Yes! Please, please, don't stop!"

Kento clenched his jaw and tightened his grip, bouncing you on his dick with such force you could do nothing but holding on for the ride. He groaned, pistoling his hips up, barely holding onto his own release.

"Think you can come again for me?"

You nodded feverishily.

"Then rub at your sweet little nub for me," he commanded in between grunts and shaky breaths. You did as you were told, rubbing at your clit using your mixed juices until you see stars.

Nanami thrusted a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled you down hard, hitting your cervix and that was enough for you to come, mouth agape in a silent cry as your head fell back, body convulsing and walls fluttering around his cock. With a low groan of your name echoing in the room, Kento felt his cock pulsing, painting your walls with his hot cum. He rocked into you a few more time until you stopped shaking and let the both of you fall back to the bed, mindful not to crush you under his weight.

You sighed, caressing his back as he leaned forward to rest his forehead on your heaving chest, both of you basking in the luxurious bliss of an orgasm.

You didn't know it then, but at that moment Kento decided you would be the woman he would marry, no matter how long it took for you to see it as well.

taglist: @madamechrissy @elliehenry24 @vivivillian

a/n: idc, consent is hot.

©sugurusfavemonkey 2025┃all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate or otherwise modify this work

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Why is Spotify calling me out

[platypusundercover]

[T] Fin

“You absolutely sure? No going back on this y’know.”

V leaned her elbows on her knees, taking her head in her hands. This felt so sudden but she knew it was going to come eventually. She was just deluding herself while doing side gigs in the city while waiting for the pieces to all come together. But that was over, she didn’t have time anymore, she had to make the choice.

“Fuck not really… Don’t think I’ve ever been sure of anything in my life, actually.”

-V and Johnny have a talk on the Esoterica's rooftop-

Audience : Teen Up

Word Count : 790

Ship : Johnny Silverhand / V

[mikimeiko]

Survival of the Thickest | Season 2 (2025), Michelle Buteau and Danielle Sanchez Witzel

[traintrainingmontage]

Alright, well I gotta send this prompt in because the people need to know: the game that led to poker being banned ft Boco, Rusty, Daisy, and Mavis as mentioned in the Uno fic. Have fun with it (bring as much chaos as you'd like seeing as how we got Daisy and Mavis >:])

YESSSS excellent choice! I'm glad you enjoyed the previous prompt so much; it was great fun to write. Let's just say that this particular poker night was certainly one to remember...

(This is a prequel to Prompt 2 — UNO!)

(CW: alcohol mention)

(Do YOU have a prompt you'd like me to write? Want to see what I've written already? Details are here!)

One evening, game night was to be held at Rusty's apartment in Crovan's Gate. The building was rather worn and somewhat small compared to the other high-rise apartment buildings in town, but it was incredibly cozy and had well-priced rent, with only two tenants to a floor.

Rusty shared his floor with Duncan, who by day worked as a construction worker and by night was a guitarist for an amateur punk rock band. He'd been forced to soundproof his office/studio after one too many noise complaints from the other residents, so there was no real need for Rusty to worry about his neighbor; rather, they were far more worried about the chaos that Daisy and Mavis might bring to the table tonight. After all, they really didn't want to have to talk to the insurance company again, and he was proud of his reputation, which included following the rules, paying the rent on time, and staying in good standing with the building manager. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin that.

With a quick sigh, Rusty looked over all of the preparations he'd made. They had snacks. They had homemade biscuits, along with Jaffa Cakes (Mavis' favorite). He had a vegetable platter, at Daisy's insistence, as well as some fruit. And, of course, they had already ordered the pizza in advance. Rusty themself, glad to be free of their repairman's uniform, was clad in a comfortable orange hoodie, black sweatpants, and light blue socks, and their hijab was properly pinned in place. Everything was set and accounted for. Now, all that remained was—

Knock knock knock!

Three sharp raps rang out against Rusty's apartment door, and he hurried over to open it. Daisy was naturally the first to arrive, a whole 15 minutes early, and with a flourish, she removed her faux mink stole and jacket, laying them on the back of one of Rusty's battered armchairs. "Thank you for having us, darling," the secretary purred, presenting Rusty with a bottle of wine that looked expensive, but was almost certainly trash; such was the norm, given Daisy's taste. Still, they accepted it gratefully and set it aside; maybe it would see use tonight. Who knew.

As Daisy got herself settled at the kitchen table, Mavis was the next to arrive, carrying with her a box of chocolates that was promptly handed to Rusty. The quarry forewoman, as usual, removed her boots and coat, trying to figure out where to leave her dust-cloaked coat such that it wouldn't make a mess, but eventually gave up and tossed it to the floor, where it landed in a heap. With that, Mavis made a beeline for the snacks, which given how loudly her stomach was rumbling, seemed to be sorely needed after a long day.

The final arrival was BoCo, who arrived punctually and with little fuss. Even off of work, he still had his "teacherly" aura, and he greeted Rusty with a calm smile, a cheese tray to enjoy, and greetings from Edward.

Once the visitors' snacks had been added to the smorgasbord of pedestrian delights spread out across Rusty's kitchen counter, the youngest of the group (which happened to be Daisy, at 26; Rusty's baby face and middling height did NOT seem to correlate with their 32 years of living) headed over for the coffee table, where a silver briefcase lay, and picked it up, bringing it back toward the group as fingers tapped against the table in anticipation.

With a semi-dramatic flourish, Daisy opened the case to reveal lines of plastic poker ships, as well as some dice, decks of cards, and other such goodies. The other three players all looked to each other and grinned as everything was handed out, and the cards were passed to BoCo, who began to shuffle them up and deal them out. Before long, everyone had two cards in front of them, and it was time to play some blackjack.

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

"Oh, COME ON!" Daisy groaned, pushing her chips over toward Mavis, who was clenching her fist in victory. "I haven't won a single hand!"

"Well, that's just how it goes," Mavis crowed happily, adding her winnings to her now-towering pile. The group wasn't playing for money, but the promise of prestige amongst the collective four of them was somehow intoxicating enough for both Daisy and Mavis to be playing for all they were worth.

Naturally, playing for all they were worth meant very little in blackjack, but really, who cared when this much entertainment was free?

BoCo, for his part, had a modest stack of winnings and a content smile on his face. Rusty, who had managed to consistently get 16s and 18s for the past three rounds, somehow found themself in second place, albeit far behind Mavis, who was leading by a country mile and not slowing down in the slightest. She'd managed to pull no less than three hands of 21, a streak of good fortune that nobody could seem to rival.

However, that just wound Daisy up more.

"Alright, that's it!" she screeched, standing from her seat with a loud huff and bringing her palms down hard against the table. She stared daggers at Mavis, who was sitting across from her, but Mavis only smiled sweetly back and gave a little wave with her fingers. Daisy's jaw clenched, eyes practically popping out of her skull.

"I'm making this next hand WORTH SOMETHING! I'm going to make a bet: if I win, then one of you has to cook for me! Tonight, right here!" Daisy's eyes met each of the three other players, her ire morphing into a smugness that she most certainly shouldn't have had. "And if I lose, which won't happen, by the way... I'll cook for YOU!"

Rusty and BoCo both gasped, eyes frantically meeting each other in horror. It was quite well-known that Daisy did not know how to cook, and they were quite uncertain as to if she even knew what a recipe was, much less how to make one.

"That's not necessary, Daisy," BoCo began. "We have so much food already—"

Mavis, however, with a steely glint in her quickly widening grin, only added fuel to the flames.

"Oh, don't discourage her, BoCo! I'd love to try Daisy's cooking! Deal us in, Rusty!"

With a hesitant look on his face, Rusty reached for the cards, and shuffled them carefully, willing their palms not to sweat. Suddenly, far too much was now riding on this round. They swallowed, eyes flicking between Daisy, who had finally sat back down and was now glaring at him impatiently; Mavis, who looked about as relaxed as she could be with her hands behind her head and a smile reminiscent of the cat who caught the canary; and BoCo, who looked as though he was praying to whoever could hear that this would just be over with as quickly as possible.

Thus, with a prayer in his heart and resignation in his soul, Rusty dealt the cards.

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

"I know what a pan is, Rusty!" Daisy screeched, her well-coiffed hair now somewhat frizzy as her elegant nails scrabbled at Rusty's kitchen cabinets, searching for what she'd need to cook Mavis... something. Rusty could only sigh; the pizza was due to arrive in half an hour and there were still plenty of snacks available, but noooooo, Daisy HAD to cook, and with Rusty's ingredients, no less. She'd promised to pay him back, but they were far more concerned with whatever the result of this would be than however much groceries cost. The game lay abandoned on the kitchen table, worthless chips and lifeless cards cast aside in favor of this debacle. Mavis (eagerly) and BoCo (less eagerly) looked on, quite interested in seeing how this would all play out.

Eventually, Daisy found herself some chicken, olive oil, and a fancy apron that Rusty had won during a "Best Dressed" competition at last year's (this year's?) New Year's party. "Alright, even I know how to cook up some chicken! Just you wait, Mavis!"

In the background, Rusty pretended that he didn't hear the conversation between Mavis and BoCo, which was currently following along the lines of whether or not Mavis actually wanted to eat Daisy's chicken, the answer to which was a gutteral laugh followed by an "absolutely not."

"Just remember that my stove is old," Rusty warned. "If you need help, I'm happy to—"

"Thank you, Rusty," Daisy drawled, "but I'm just making chicken. It's not as if it could be that hard."

A thousand and one retorts leapt to Rusty's lips at that fate-provoking sentence, but instead, they simply kept quiet, and thumbed at his hijab nervously.

Seemingly satisfied, Daisy donned Rusty's apron and reached for the olive oil. Applying a light coating to the bottom of the pan, Daisy flicked on the heat and looked over at the package of chicken thighs. "Right. Let's open these up..."

Thankfully, Daisy managed to open the package and, once the stove was up to temperature, placed the chicken into the oil without a problem. Rusty felt themself relax; perhaps he'd been too harsh with Daisy. After all, she seemed to know what she was doing—

"And now, for the WINE!" Daisy laughed, and in the background, Rusty could barely hear Mavis' spirited "DO IT!" over their own growing horror. Before Rusty could stop her, turn on the vent, or do anything else that might prevent the worst-case scenario, Daisy grabbed for the wine bottle she'd brought, opened it with ease (of COURSE it had been cheap wine!) and poured it without a care into the heated pan. "I saw this on a cooking show, Rusty," Daisy explained matter-of-factly, briefly turning away from her pan and pouting at Rusty's horrified expression. "Wine makes everything better—"

"DAISY, THE PAN!"

Daisy managed to turn back just in time to see that Rusty's pan was now ablaze, fire leaping up in frightful lashes that caused the unsuspecting cook to flinch back in terror. "EEEEEEK!"

"And this is exactly why you have to be careful!" Rusty shouted, running for the cabinet in which they kept their pans and pulling out a lid. Without delay, he hustled to the flaming pan and half-slammed, half dropped the lid on top of it, swiftly depriving the flames of oxygen.

For a moment, there was a beat of silence, then BoCo let out a tiny "phew"—

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

As if waiting for their cue, the fire alarm and sprinklers went off, dousing all assembled in disgusting, fetid water. "Alright, everyone out!" BoCo bellowed, quickly putting on his teacher voice. The other three made a break for it, with Daisy managing to nab her faux stole on her way out. As they headed for the stairs at the end of the corridor, Rusty saw Duncan hurriedly following, his favorite guitar clutched in his hands. Thundering down the spacious stairwell, the footfalls of the building's other residents seemed to abound from all sides, with the tremendous beeping of the fire alarm ringing in their ears. It was enough for anyone to get disoriented, but soon enough, Rusty found themself on the building's front lawn, his friends and neighbors all gathering around in confusion.

In the distance, Rusty could vaguely make out the blaring sirens of fire trucks. Beside him, his friends looked terribly awkward, and his neighbors utterly confused. Right in front of him, however, the building manager, Mr. Sam, was hurriedly and angrily making his way toward him, eyes wide and neck bulging with barely suppressed anger, flanked by an overwhelmed-looking pizza boy.

"Rusty," the manager managed to eke out with paper-thin patience, "what happened? Why did the fire alarm panel say there was a fire in your unit?"

Rusty's eyes fluttered shut, thinking back on everything that had happened that night. The wins, the snacks, the laughter, the tears. Then, all of that fled from their mind, replaced by eternal gratitude for Skarloey convincing them to get renter's insurance.

"Well, sir," Rusty finally managed, his tone resigned as a wry smile crossed his face, "as it happens, we were all playing poker..."

[eflen-n-reegee]

The Face (A ‘Hotel Transylvania’ Regression Fic)

Mavis teaches you the pouty bat face so you can (hopefully) get out of trouble with Dracula. Suggested by Anon

~~~~~~~~

“Try to make your eyes bigger.”

You obediently stretched your eyes wider. They watered a little bit from the effort, and Mavis nodded approvingly.

“That’s good. Now bite your lip.”

You did as instructed, and felt your chin wobble.

“That’s great! You got it!”

You grinned, and Mavis mussed your hair. “Ready for the big test?”

“Yeah!”

As though on cue, you heard Dracula’s voice ringing down the hall. “Who broke this urn?!”

You both flinched, and Mavis offered you a sympathetic smile. “Good luck,” she murmured, turning into a bat and hiding behind your bed.

The door to your room flew open and Dracula stood frowning down at you, eyes burning. “Little mouse,” he said sternly, “did you break the urn in the hallway?”

You felt your lip tremble. “… Uh-huh.”

Dracula groaned in frustration, rubbing his eyes. “Death dumpling, do you know how many generations my family has been in that urn? How many times must I tell you to watch what you’re doing? I don’t…”

He trailed off as he looked at you. Your lip stuck out and your eyes watered. Although you couldn’t see your own face, you felt certain it was a perfect bat pout. It must have been, because Dracula sighed and gave you a tired smile.

“Now, now, there’s no need for that,” he said, gently wiping your tears with one cold finger. “At the end of the night, it’s only an urn. Did you get hurt, my piranha plant?”

You shook your head, sniffling.

“Then there’s no real harm done. Just try to be more careful, alright?” And with a kiss on your forehead, he left the room.

With a flash, Mavis reappeared, grinning wide. “Told ya,” she said, squeezing your shoulder. “The face never fails.”