#nice little doodle to try and clear the mind

[greenflowerceo]

pros of a rooftop date: cute and sappy moment with boyfriend

con: slipper at risk of falling off

[leighsartworks216]

You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

Word Count: 1,601

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.

Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.

Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.

That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.

Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.

“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”

He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”

“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?

“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”

“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”

You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”

“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”

“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”

He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”

If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”

He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”

Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.

Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.

With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.

“All done, dear?”

You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”

Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.

You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”

“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”

You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”

The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…

“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.

“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”

He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”

You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”

You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran

[cottonlemonade]

Omg i always love your fic events!! You put so much effort into them and they're so creative! Can I get a small pineapple lemonade with pomegranate seeds for Kita? Thank u! ❤️🌾🧑‍🌾🦊

Accidental Confession

word count: 814 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy accidental confession with pining Kita

In hindsight maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

But then again, confessing your feelings to someone wasn’t an everyday occurrence so of course he didn’t have a routine for it.

Nothing about you was ordinary or predictable. Except that little smile you got when you doodled in your planner or you offering your help when you saw someone struggle or the absolute determination with which you would first push a door that was clearly marked pull. Those things he could count on and his heart jumped every time.

“Kita-san?”

He snapped back to the present, meeting your curious gaze. “Yes?”

“You wanted to ask something and then… well, you haven’t said anything yet.”

“Oh! Right.” His face grew a little warmer and he cleared his throat. Kita looked around the courtyard of the school for a moment, trying to remember how he wanted to start his question. It was on the tip of his tongue until he got tripped up by the sun hitting your eyes and all thought had vanished from his mind. Somewhere off to the right he spotted Aran and the twins blatantly staring in his direction. The ace gave him two encouraging thumbs up, Osamu managed to nod while getting lost in the taste of his lunch and Atsumu said something and then pretended to throw up, earning himself a smack over the head from Aran.

He never should have told them about his crush.

“I wanted to ask for yer help.”, he finally began and you sat up a little straighter to show you were listening.

“There’s someone I really like and I want to confess to her but I don’t know how. I was hopin’ ya’d have some insights.”

“Me?”, you said perplexed, “Why me?”

“Because yer really pretty and interestin’, ya must get confessions every other week.”

He frowned when you burst out into laughter.

But when he didn’t join in, you stopped. “Oh, wait. You were serious.”

“Was tryin’ to be. Yea.”

You cocked a brow and looked down at your pudgy tummy, barely hidden by the school’s jacket, and tucked at the hem of your skirt that always felt too short because your butt required so much fabric to cover.

“Uhm, I hate to break it to you, but I think you got the wrong girl. Why not try Kotoha? She is very popular and sweet - unless she is the one you want to confess to.”

“Who?”

“Ko- nevermind. - I can try to help you, sure. But I need a bit more info. Tell me about her.”

Kita pondered. It was the whole point of asking for your advice so he’d have the best possible set up for success. He wanted it to be tailored to your taste. What if you liked a public announcement and meanwhile he would have only handed you a private letter? He needed to be sure.

“She is quite outgoing.”, he began, putting a hand to his chin in thought.

“Outgoing from your point of view or outgoing like Atsumu?”

“Not like Atsumu.”, he said quickly, “More … confident and less…”

“Obnoxious?”, you offered with a chuckle and he pretended to cough to hide his snort.

“Yes. She is also really smart and funny. She knows how to make people comfortable and …”, he looked at his shoes, “has a beautiful smile.”

“Oh you’re down bad, I see.“

“She is beautiful in general.”, he went on, not noticing your comment because he wasn’t close to being done listing everything, “She loves to read and I also know she knits. And when she thinks no one can hear her, she starts humming while she is knitting and that sounds really nice.”

You frowned. You were part of the Knitting Club so you mentally flipped through the members of said club to figure out who he was talking about.

“One time,”, he said and gave a slow, low laugh, remembering the scene, his eyes still fixed on the ground, “she was knitting in the classroom and she was so proud, showing off a little thing she made and I asked her what it was and ya said it was obviously a frog.”

Kita’s shoulders shook and a few seconds later he was doubling over with laughter. He didn’t realize what he had just done.

“But it was just so round and wonky and had tiny stringy legs.” He gasped for air, trying to stop laughing.

Your heart hammered in your ears and your cheeks threatened to cook under the heat rising in them continuously. “H-hey, I’m still proud of my frog!” It was the only thing you could think of to say.

He started coughing from laughing so much, “As ya should be.” Raising his index finger to his eyes he wiped away the tears.

“So, uhm. I think as far as confessions go this was unconventional but… it definitely worked.”

“What?”

art: @cookiechochop on Twitter

a/n: thank you so much for the request, I’m sorry it’s taking so long for me to get to them all!

I didn’t make it post-time skip (like your emojis suggested ✨) because I already have him accidentally confess in A Simpler Life ^^ I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless and thank you so much for your kind words!

[piratefishmama]

Forgiven not Forgotten | Prompt

Steve Harrington was eleven years old when he learned what Homophobia was. It wasn’t through other people making jokes, it wasn’t his parents, who actually found Steve’s little crushes cute as all hell, his mother joking around about how he’d make the perfect little housewife someday as she had him helping with dinner, Steve wearing his own adorable little ‘head chef’ apron as he struggled with the garlic press, her comments made much to his father’s exasperated amusement.

Nobody ever made him feel bad about it. The crushes. Nobody ever put him down or made him feel like it was wrong. Kids didn’t care until close minded grown ups made it a thing. Kids minds were wide open ready to be shaped. It wasn’t a bad thing...

Until Eddie.

Eddie was one of the bigger kids on the playground. Quiet and mysterious, he came to Hawkins halfway through the year from places unknown, his hair buzzed close to his scalp, now growing back thick, brown, and soft enough for Steve to crave touching it. He’d never seen Eddie up close, they didn’t share any classes but… from a distance he was clearly very pretty. With big dark eyes, soft cheeks, and a cute nose, he was perfect.

Steve was sure he’d caught sight of dimples once. DIMPLES.

Lynda Harrington was about five minutes away from being done with dimples, Steve talked about them that much.

Eddie didn’t talk much, he had no friends to speak of, kept to himself in the playground, either reading an impossibly thick book with a pretty picture on the front that Steve couldn’t quite make out, sat under the jungle gym, or laid under the jungle gym scribbling things into a black notebook covered in stickers and scribbled paint marker marks.

He carried a big guitar case sometimes, and Steve occasionally caught him coming from the music rooms, but he’d never heard him play. He wanted too, but hadn’t quite worked out how to make that happen without being forced to talk to him.

And that. That was just far too scary.

He was an older kid from seventh grade, and from what little he’d heard him speak, he had a nice southern twang to his accent that made Steve’s hands all clammy and his chest feel so full of butterflies that he feared he’d float away.

Too scary basically. But he could watch from afar! Afar was safe. Afar was—

“Hey trailer park FREAK!” Oh boy. The biggest kids. Eighth graders. Eddie was just going to the jungle gym, notebook in hand to get a little light doodling in, when they descended upon him. The sporty kids that dominated in dodgeball, the mean ones that picked on the nerds, the popular ones his parents had told him to steer clear of.

“They’re bad influences” his father would say. “Just focus on your classes and keep your distance from those troublemakers.” Steve was happy to do just that. He had a couple of friends but… he kept to his studies and steered clear.

Eddie was quiet, he had no friends, he hung out in the same place every day doing the same thing, he was an easy target. Steve looked for the teachers, any teachers, any grown-ups, but they were all busy elsewhere, Eddie didn’t have any friends to stand up for him, anyone to back him up as the big kids descended, shoving him against the jungle gym’s climbing net, he barely even complained, just told them to leave him alone, which obviously they weren’t going to do, leaving Steve with a choice to make.

He could stay there, where he was, and keep watch from a far as his crushes notebook was stolen, the panic kicking up a notch from Eddie as he rushed forward to try and get it back, demanding “Not my notebook!! Give it back! Please give it back!” To no avail, the two flanking the main bully just shoving him back against the netting while the main bully roughly ransacked through the pages, uncaring as to the damage he was doing despite Eddie’s continued cries for him to stop, he looked again, any adult, any adult would do.

How had no adult noticed yet?!

Steve found himself crossing the distance before he could even think about it, just in time to watch Eddie be thumped in the gut by the biggest of the three, “trailer trash nerd” spat down at him, his torn notebook thrown to the floor, papers torn free from the seam falling out across the woodchip floor, Steve was too late to stop the worse of it but— he could do something.

“Hey!” All three eyes were on him, Eddies not included, he was too busy clutching his gut and trying to reach for his book at the same time “U-uh… uhm” Steve turned his head and holy shit hallelujah “teachers coming! Better scram before she catches you!” She wasn’t even coming, she was just there, close enough that it made a difference.

The boys got out of there, each one pushing the other to move faster to get out of dodge before the teacher came. At least Steve hadn’t had to stand up to them, just… make them leave. They were probably about to go anyway, given they’d already done enough damage to put their point across.

Eddie was right there, nursing his wounds, trying to gather his papers up, so close, Steve could feel his palms clam up, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute. He pushed through, bending down to pick up a scrunched up ball of paper, he gently began unfolding it. It was nerve wracking, every second he spent in Eddies presence, the boy watching him hesitantly, big dark eyes rimmed red with unshed tears, brown. His eyes were brown. Steve gulped down his own saliva.

“You should uh… you should ignore those guys.” WORDS! He managed words. Okay. He could do this.

“Yeah? What’s it to you?” Eddie was upset, he probably didn’t mean the bite to his tone, it was okay, it’d be okay.

“I just… I mean, it’s not bad, y’know. To be like… nerdy and stuff, you shouldn’t listen to them. They’re just jealous cause you’re… y’know, creative and uhm… an smart, an really talented at drawing and—and people really like that.” He offered the creased paper back as Eddie rose to his feet, wrecked notebook tightly clutched in his arms, he took it back, not quite snatched but… it wasn’t taken gently.

“Yeah, what people? So far things ain’t exactly been makin me feel welcome here.” He shoved the paper full of… god Steve didn’t even know, but Steve knew they were doodles of some kind, winged things, and skeleton monsters, they were cool! Eddie could draw! Steve couldn’t draw, he could barely make stickmen work, the legs were always mismatched lengths, and the arms were never coming from the same point of the stickman’s stick body.

“I mean…” Steve fumbled with his own fingers, warmth decorating his cheeks, pinking the tips of his ears this was it! He could do it, he could tell him, and it’d be fine, and maybe they could hold hands or something, that’d be neat “people… people like me… I—I like you, I mean… I like you a lot and—and I just… I was just wondering if—if maybe—”

“Ew” Steve stopped dead, eyes snapping to the other boy, the other boy who looked at him with an icy disgust that wrapped its frozen claws around Steve’s heart and clenched “that’s gross. Boys can’t like other boys, that’s so fuckin weird!” Weird? It was weird? Steve looked around him, panic filling his very being, from his head to his toes every inch of him felt wrong all of a sudden, his heart beating faster and faster only this time it wasn’t good “and they call me a freak, freak.”

His small fist connected with Eddie’s face without thought, right in the nose. Instinct to fight rearing its head for the first time in his life, panic replaced so swiftly by an anger so unlike him he was consumed by it, and the resulting pained cries filled him with a sick sense of satisfaction that he enjoyed far more than the panic, than the sense of wrong in himself at Eddie’s words.

He didn’t say anything else to Eddie, he just, left him there by the jungle gym, crying in pain holding a bleeding nose. His book dropped to the floor, ruined papers strewn across the woodchip.

And his dimples?

Never to be thought of again.

—Until the boathouse in '86 when everything went to shit for the fourth time in a row.

Part 2

[dark-and-kawaii]

Ok, so I was mostly joking about the whole 'bunny-boy Zevlor doodle' thing but... Hmmm...

*awkwardly clears throat while fanning myself*

👀 He looks very nice. Very nice indeed.

Pardon, I think I need to process what you have awoken in me.

‎‧₊˚✧ [ Don’t Be Shy ] ✧˚₊‧

Summary: You ask Zevlor to try on the cute latex bunny outfit ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ — Notes: Don’t mind me, just going to casually drop a little Drabble about him trying on the bunny outfit in front of you ♡ ♡!!! Thank you so much for the love on the drawing!!! It’s honestly one of my favorites, and I’m grateful you recommended it!!! He’s so freaking precious in it in my opinion hahaha pink latex suits him well (>ᴗ•)!!!

Doodle

You sat on the bed while holding a fur pillow, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you watched Zevlor fumble with the bunny outfit you had teasingly suggested he try on.

The outfit was made of gorgeous pink latex, the cuffs embroidered with a silver lining, and Zevlor, well… you giggle at how the commander- a dignified soldier, was now a blushing mess.

His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, contrasting sharply with his usual composed demeanor… And his tail, “Awhh Zevy~” it instinctively curled around his waist, the sharp end of it attempting to shield the rather obvious bulge that the snug outfit accentuated. Meanwhile, Zevlor’s hand covered half his face, as if trying to hide from the world- or perhaps from your amused gaze.

“Dear, must I really?” He mumbled from behind his fingers.

You chuckled softly, hopping off the bed so that you could saunter over to the love of your life. And with a playful grin, you reach out and gently take his tail in your hand to unwrap it from his muscular waist. “Don’t be shy now,” you purr before giving his tail a light, teasing lick, your eyes never leaving his, “let me see what you’re hiding~”

Zevlor's breath caught in his throat, his blush deepening as he met your gaze... Your playful confidence was infectious, and despite his initial embarrassment and discomfort, he found himself relaxing under your touch- the warmth of your gaze melting away his embarrassment, if only just a little.

[marksbear]

Hi, i really like your writing! I was wondering if you could do Call of duty boys (Ghost, Price, Konig, Soap,Alejandro) with a male reader who has a big ass thighs and a black belt karate? Thank you!!

Hi Anon! Thank you for liking my request man! And sorry for me taking forever on this! And sorry no Konig! 😭 I really didn't know what to write about for him!

warnings! Semi-nsfw, teasing, biting, marking, flirting, death, kinda gore, NO KONIG, smoking

COD BOYS X MALE READER

Soap!

He cracks way many jokes about your thighs.

"Hey Sergeant thighs!"

"C/n! Nice thighs you got there! Mind if I get a closer look?" "Jump off a bridge." "Will do sergeant!"

God forbid you be a sniper hes gonna get you both killed. While you try to get a clear shot when you're laying on the ground he's gonna come out of nowhere and spread open your legs and feel and squeeze or thighs.

When you're both at base hes even worse. He doesn't care where you are, what you are doing, who you are with. hes gonna find you and give you daily compliments about your thighs.

During meetings where the whole team is all gathered around sitting at a table he'll act like he dropped something under the table and crawl under it crawling where ever you are and rest his head on your thighs.

Probably names your thighs.

If you let him he will draw little doodles on them.

Likes to brag about how you got a black belt. "Oh your boyfriend can cook? Guess what. My boyfriend has a black belt in karate and basically he can beat your ass."

Talks about your thighs way TOO much. Like he doesn't care he will talk about them to a whole enemy.

When he saw you do a karate move on someone he was lowkey terrified of you.

Then HE BEGS you do teach him or do it to him. "C/n PLEASE PLEASE TEACH ME!" He will get on his knees if he has to.

He was already a thigh guy before you. But now hes like 100x more of a thigh guy since hes with you.

Ghost!-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He sees them. I mean SEES them.

He doesn't make a big deal of them, but goddamn he sure will stare at them hard.

Before you two started dating he will be embarrassed and almost ashamed if you caught him staring. God forbid Soap catches him.

But when y'all begin dating he doesn't get as embarrassed any more.

If you ever get insecure about them hes quick to kiss them and praise them and you.

He LOVES feeling them against his body.

In the bedroom if you're shorter than him he'll pick you up and he lays himself down on the bed back on the bed while he puts you on his chest. Makes you spread open your legs, so your thighs are on both sides of his head.

If you're taller than him he will simply make you sit down on the edge of the bed while he gets on his knees in between your legs and just sit there in between your legs doing what he doing while you slowly rub your thighs on his head or squeeze them.

"Can ya crush someone with those thighs? Like snap their neck or suffocate them." A drunk Ghost asks you while you just shrug. Next day you brought up the day old conversation on the battlefield and the two of you went searching for someone you can do it to.

Once Ghost found someone he distracted them while you came up behind them. When Ghost found an opportunity he shouted "NOW!" You jumped on the person using all of your strength to either suffocate or snap their neck. The person kept moving around trying to knock you off of him and you use some of your body weight pushing down and turning your legs right then a very fast left.

Ghost and you let out a gasp when y'all heard a loud crack. The man drops on the floor while you land on top of him.

"You did it sweetheart good for ya." Ghost praises getting you up.

Alejandro!--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he saw those thighs he let out a wolf whistle. NOT in a creepy way like an impressive and kinda shocked way.

"Tiene unos buenos muslos, sargento." He will say walking past you like it was something normal to say.

When you're at base and you're planning to wear some casual clothes with some shorts you gotta think again. This man will bite and leave marks in every single spot on your thighs.

He loves to pick you up by your thighs. He will squeeze them and run his hands all over them.

MAN IS PROTECTIVE as soon as someone says something about you and especially your thighs. He will full on cuss them out in Spanish like he wouldn't give a damn.

He likes to put you on his shoulders and walk around showing you off and your body.

He will ask a dying enemy about your body. I mean he will hold your hand and take you where the man is dying and he will ask them "¿No estás de acuerdo en que mi novio tiene muslos sexys? ¿Qué piensas de ellos? ¿Tengo razón o qué?" "W-what?" The dying man responded not knowing Spanish.

Alejandro sighed heavily and translated his past sentence. "Don't you agree that my boyfriend has sexy thighs? What do you think about them? Am I right or what?" Alejandro pulls Y/n closer and crouches to the dying man pulling him up so he can get a better look.

The sad thing is. It's a trick question. If the person answered yes. Alejandro would stand back up and say "Tooo~ mad this sexy son of a gun is mine and mine only." Alejandro will get his gun out and point it at the man skull before kissing Y/n deeply shooting the man in the head.

BUT if the man says no or hesitates he wouldn't even get to finish because Alejandro would already have shot him in the head. "Aleee~ You didn't even get him a chance." Y/n says with a whine. "Because he took too long and besides I already know i'm right."

He couldn't look at y'all the same after that.

Price!--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was so taken back when he saw your thighs.

Caught him so off guard, but he kept a professional face.

But all professionalism got thrown out the window once y'all started dating.

At first he acted normal like giving them light compliments and all that, but he had never touched them. BUT one day it was a hot day in the base and you were shirtless and only in your underwear he admired your body then his eyes trialed down to your thighs and he stared HARD. He walks up to you all sweet and gently and sits beside you.

Then like his body acted on its own. He reaches his large hand out and puts them on your thigh then squeezes the living hell out of them. The grip he had honestly made you flinched.

Since that day you couldn't look at him the same.

He will call you down to his office and ask you to lock the door behind you. "Pants off." He orders you spreading his own legs open taking a cigar off his desk and lights it smoking it watching you take off your pants and shoes. You do as you were told and stand in front of the desk. "Yes captain?" "Stan down." He says with a smile as he watches you giddily move around the desk so you're closer to him. You sit between his legs laying your head back on his shoulder as he grabs and squeeze your thighs. John puts his chin on your shoulder as he does paperwork normally.

Lets you practice karate on training dummies and sometimes on the new soldiers.

During meetings you have to sit next to him. He likes to feel your thighs during the meeting's squeezing and patting them often like if they were a stress ball.

If you let him. When hes interrogating someone he likes to put you on his lap and massage your thighs as he interrogates them.

When he saw you suffocate someone with your thighs he asked you to show the new people. It's his way of showing you off. "Tis is Sergeant C/n. You treat him with the utmost respect. And today he will be showing y'all one of the fastest ways to disarm or kill the enemy." Price steps back letting Y/n have the floor. "Watch this! Cause i'm only gonna do it once." Y/n says jumping on the training dummy and quickly snapping its neck with his thighs and jumping off it with a proud smile.

Everyone is quick to clap and cheer and some got their hands up for questions. John walks up to you wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you next to him as he kisses your head and says "Nice job hun." "Thank you captain!"

He likes to pick you up by your thighs like you were a baby. He will just walk around normally while you talk and ramble about different things to him.

Gaz!---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He doesn't mean to stare at your thighs. But he feels like they are looking at him first soooooo he has to look back a couple times.

He loves to pat them. Like out of nowhere he will give your thighs a light pat.

Loves to show off your thighs. He wants you to feel comfortable and proud about them, so he always shows them off like bringing them up as casually as he can.

"Thick thighs save lives."

One time he was wasted I mean drunk out of his mind. He took off his sunglasses and put them on your thighs and started a casual conversation with them.

Likes to give you daily compliments about your thighs just in case you may feel self concussion about them. And he will hunt you down if he didn't get to say the compliment to you in the morning.

"I love you. I love your thighs. I love your voice, your mind. I love your everything and never forget that."

Gives your thighs little soft kisses and praise when you're feeling bad.

When he found out you had a black belt in karate he was over the moon with ideas. Some are probably going to get you both killed.

He made team combos for the both of you. You two do it on the last enemy or something.

If you teach him some moves you can see him practicing them on dummies and he gets all giddy when he does it right. "Y/N! You saw that shit!"

He forces asks you to watch him while he does one of the moves you taught him on the enemy. And he gets kinda smug and shit when you praise. "Mhm Mhm I did that shit."

He doesn't know how to act after you taught him some basic karate. Like he really thinks hes the shit.

"Y/n. Me and you are basically the unstoppable duo. I'm the looks-" "Hey why are you the looks?!" "Y/n. Be for real." "My thighs are bigger." "Don't pull the thigh card." "Lots of people think the beauty is at the thighs." "Were done. I'm breaking up with you." "You love me too much." "Damn it your right I do love you."

The two of you like to brag about being in the best people in team 141.

Gives you a nose kiss when you're about to leave for a mission. "When you get back tell me all the cool karate moves you did."

The two of you always play fight doing karate moves to one another until say someone hits the other two hard and y'all begin wrestling

"Kyle scoot over my I can't fit your taking all of the room." "It's dem thighs that can't fit." "Scoot the hell over!"

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi first of all I'd like to say that I love your writing style and can't get enough of reading you. Could I make a request for a slightly older Jake Kim? As it's the end of the crews, Allied has won and neither Charles Choi nor Eugene are a threat anymore. Jake is a little bored despite his love for big deal and his friends and/or his mother is urging him to go back to school and he thinks it might be a good idea. At first he's a little scared and unsure, thinking that with his gangster looks and scars, he might scare off the other students, but Jake is Jake and his charisma is incredible. Anyway, he notices this girl who's a foreign student (if she could be French, I'd love you for the rest of my life), quite popular and he just has a crush on her but doesn't dare approach her because she's so popular. Well he watches her as she sit just in front of him and he is just so into her. The 2 of them could get close at a party or an event, maybe he could save her from a molka or a Zeus-like student or something like that too.

Sorry if it is not clear, english isn't my native language.

Besides, if my request doesn't inspire you, feel free to ignore it. I'll keep on reading you because you're incredible.

Anon, this is EXTREMELY clear. Ty for being so kind!! Sorry for the delay and as always, only half hitting the request points. Also French???

Jake Kim x French!Reader: Lecture

Leans F!Reader. Sort of college AU.

Jake sits at the back of the lecture hall. 

He always sits at the back. It was his seat before Big Deal, and makes sense that it's his seat after Big Deal too.

Picked in his middle school days as the perfect spot for taking naps and causing trouble. Not that Jake was ever a trouble maker, at least to teachers. He preferred to waste the hours by catching up on his sleep.

So used to being front and centre all his life. Thrust, sometimes willingly, sometimes not, into the centre of attention that it's quite nice to literally take a back seat. 

Except. It's out of an awkwardness, discomfort, that he chooses to sit at the back today. 

Hidden from most of the other students. Feeling out of place with his thuggish appearance, his scars and his tattoos.

Can't help but be a little self conscious, even if his bias should be grossly outdated.

"This seat taken?" You don't wait for his answer, missing his look of surprise, slamming yourself down on the seat. Hugging your backpack to your body and slouching with relief. 

"I got lost," you give a grin that comes out as more of a grimace, and wipe your brow, having worked up a sweat from trying to figure out this labyrinth they call a school.

Jake's eyes follow your fingers running through your hair. Absentmindedly notes how soft and shiny it looks.

You tell him your name, half distracted with setting up your laptop to take notes. He has your full attention when his low, husky timbre introduces himself as Jake Kim. 

You also notice he has dimples when he smiles.

.

.

He sees you again a couple days later, and you walk towards your lecture together.

Following your lead and taking a seat much closer to the front. Where Jake doesn't need to strain so much to see and hear.

He feels less self conscious today. Maybe that's because you're by his side.

He chooses not to dwell on it. Focusing on whatever the professor is talking about.

Somewhere between the droning voice and the overwarm room, his mind starts to wander. Begins to doodle on his notepad instead of taking notes.

You peek over at his paper, "What is that?"

"Jerry." Jake says it like it's obvious. Like you should know.

"Who?"

"My best friend."

You squint down at the doodle a bit more, "Cute. What breed is he?"

Jake holds back his grin and deadpans, "Human."

"Huh?!"

Jake chuckles. Points out the bald head and the attempt at human anatomy in a hushed voice as you inspect further, peering so close your foreheads are almost touching.

When finally,the image clicks, you burst out laughing, earning shushes from the students around you.

 .

.

Jake is shy. 

All his natural leadership quality completely leaves him when after the lecture, you introduce him to his friends.

A mix of students that grew up overseas. Seems worldly and experienced compared to himself who has barely left Seoul. Having lived a lifetime fighting and running a gang instead.

You introduce everyone. Give him more details about yourself, mention growing up in France.

"Paris?" he ventures, the only place he can recall off the top of his head.

You pull a little face at that. No, the South. Grew up swimming in the Mediterranean Sea. 

"Here," you lean in to show him on your phone the town you spent your childhood years.

Leaning in close enough that he can count each of your freckles, if he so chooses. Can pick out the scent of your shampoo

And Jake, for maybe the first time ever, is hit with a fluttering in his stomach.

.

.

It's a role reversal.

Everyone seems to know you. You remember the little details about them. Asking how their trip was, how their mom is doing.

You're popular, and Jake feels a little like an outcast. No one has given him a reason to feel that way. Not really, but he couldn't help feeling misplaced. Like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.

Until you took him under your wing. Making him feel comfortable in this strange environment. 

Like many others, his face now brightens when you shine your light on him.

He remembers a little more, a lot more, about himself. Finds ease in his words and his body again.

Charisma and confidence once more rising to the surface. It always does with someone like Jake Kim. It’s embedded in his nature, fundamentally a part of who he is.

Being with you is uncomplicated, easy. Like how everyone always says it should be. He draws smiles and laughter from your lips, feeding on them like a lifestream.  Cracking cheesy jokes and puns that make you groan and lightly slap his arm with affection.

Jake thinks you're sweet and kind and all sorts of wonderful. Maybe funnier than he is, which is the greatest compliment he can give.

He's started to count your freckles every chance he gets.

.

.

You're doodling on his pad again. He's admiring your lashes.

Long and thick and luscious. But it's the way they frame your eyes, when you peer up at him with a softness, that makes his chest ache.

"I drew us," you whisper, and his eyes follow your pen. Two stick figures. One much taller than the others.

Maybe he's a bit too crazy about you, but he thinks that even these few lines are the essence of you two.

"What are we doing?" he whispers back. Your eyes drop to his lips, tracing the shape of them, the scar, words almost on the tip of your tongue-

Then it dissipates. 

You stare back at the drawing and give a shrug.

"Maybe this?" He draws what he hopes you can make out to be a bowl and some chopsticks.

"Food?"

"Sure." Jake musters up all his charm and gives you a grin, hoping it hides his nervousness. "Or dinner. A date."

He's trying for nonchalance. Like it wouldn't mean anything if you turned him down, preferring to stay friends or whatever this is-

"This Saturday?" you smile, and Jake nods, gives you a toothy grin back, dimples on full display.

You pick up your pen again and draw a little symbol over the figures. 

It’s a small heart, and his own soars.

[saksukei]

ushijima love letters au

masterlist | suna love letters au

you laughed as you read the crinkled letter with messy writing, in your hands,, how long had it been? eight or nine years? time had gone by so quickly,,,

you distinctly remember the first time you ever received ushijima’s cute little notes.

you had come back from the chemistry lab,, and found a piece of paper on your desk saying “i hope you had breakfast.”

assuming that it was a silly prank, you just tossed the little note alongside some papers in the depths of your school bag,,,

till you received another one the next day,, saying “morning runs are healthy. so maybe go on one sometime?”

and you were like (─.─||) is this person trying to say that I've put on weight??!!! DO THEY KNOW IM HUMAN AND ITS NORMAL TO PUT ON WEIGHT

you threw the note in your bag again

and then, the same happened the next day

except this note said,,, “sorry about the last chit. my friend told me I sounded rude. how was your day?”

you were like ??? can this person not make their mind up??? hello??

and so you kept on receiving them,, they ranged from “hope you did your math homework” to “carry a spare water bottle” to “stay safe when going back home”

and you got so used to receiving these notes that your day sort of felt incomplete without them,,, and you thought that you wanted to find the culprit behind them

and so,, you hid behind your class door,, to check who would come in to leave the little notes on your desk,,,

someone did come into class and it was not the person you expected. it was tendou. you figured you should confront him, it was now or never.

“so you're the one that's been sending me chits?!” you ask, and tendou jumps, not expecting you to be there.

“uhh–” he trails off, scratching the back of his head.

“sorry, I don't mean to put you in an awkward spot but I wanted to thank you for–”

“it’s not me, I'm only the messenger,” tendou interrupts. “he’s going to kill me if I tell you this–but it's ushijima,” tendou explains. “he likes you but he doesn't know how to say it so I suggested this way would be more better.”

and you were like (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

“yOU MEAN USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI THE VOLLEYBALL TEAM CAPTAIN AND ACE LIKES ME????”

“sheesh no need to yell,” tendou retorted,,

“sorry, force of habit,” you smile sheepishly. “is there any chance you could get me to talk to ushijima?”

“as long as you don't reject him too harshly–then yes.”

tendou leads you to the captain who is practicing his spikes in the gym.

ushijima stares blankly when he sees you entering, despite his heart going fifty miles per hour. why were you here? you never visited the gymnasium.

he had in fact first seen you in his math class when you sat near the window and he was sitting behind you, watching you draw doodles on your textbook. eventually, it became a routine, where he'd chuckle at your little drawings of your math teacher.

he started looking for you during lunch hour, just having your presence around was enough for him. he never found it within himself to have the courage to talk to you. you were so nice, so kind and so out of his league.

it wasn't until tendou suggested this little idea that ushijima thought he might finally get to interact with you.

“hi, ushijima can I talk to you?” you ask, shyly and tendou nudges ushijima towards you, who manages to stutter out “yes you may,” following you outside.

“i saw tendou leaving the small chit on my desk,” you confess, and while ushijima has never been hit by a volleyball on the face, he sure feels like it would hurt less.

“i–i don't mean to embarrass you or anything!” you clear out, witnessing his spiral. “i wanted to say thank you, the notes were really sweet. And I was actually wondering if you'd like to go out on a date.”

youve never seen such a stoic man get red so fast. “i’d like that a lot yes.”

and while it's been years since school ended and you two have been together forever, he still leaves you the cutest notes.

[world0fmadness]

RAINY DAYS

୨୧ just sharing a thought i had whilst it rained today!

pelle would probably really like the rain, he doesn’t so much like being in the rain because i think he would get irritated at the feeling of his denim jeans sticking to his already cold and pale skin but inside the house? he likes it a whole lot

he likes cuddling up with you when it rains, big spooning you from the side so that his eyes can stare out of the one small window in your shared bedroom, his blue eyes reflecting the image of small water droplets rapidly hitting the glass and trickling down as his cold hands trace your hips, not helping much to warm you up but you don’t say anything, you just let him rest and push your body further into his front, trying to create some body warmth which works well enough… occasionally his eyes will drift away from the window and down to your resting face, watching as your nose twitches in your sleep or your lips part to breathe, admiring you in your most vulnerable and serene state, watching as the orange, fiery glow from a nearby pine scented candle lights up your face in the dark room

rain often helps him fall asleep, helped even more by the feeling of your body pressed up against his, the sound of water drops hitting the roof and glass windows soothing his mind and clearing it almost entirely of the fog that lurks, his hand grabbing yours and holding it tightly as his eyes droop and he buries his face further into your neck from behind, chin still resting atop your shoulder as your fingers draw soft circles on the back of his hand

when it rains, pelle doesn’t really like to do much except relax the best he know how and admire the cold, gloomy weather… to him, it isn’t gloomy or even depressing as it may be to some, pelle finds it to be relaxing and calming! it’s one of the few things aside from you that helps soothe his mind, put his mind to rest for just a while…

pelle just likes to sit and watch the rain, listen to it as it falls from the sky as if it’s natural music to his ears, the softest and most beautiful music he thinks he’ll ever hear and it inspires him, inspires him to make art or write lyrics, doodling randomly at his desk as shadowy rain drops are reflected onto the paper through the window

and when the rain stops, pelle is the first one out of the house, looking at you blankly for a couple seconds before leaving without a jacket, as if silently telling you to follow him, which you do! though he doesn’t do anything crazy outside, no, pelle just stands and breathes… tilting his head back slightly, long blonde hair draped over his face as he inhales quietly, breathing in the fresh air and signature smell of rain… he might purposely walk through or stand in some puddles, staring down at his rippled reflection before walking off to another one and doing the same, not caring in the slightest about the water now soaking his shoes… you think it might be some kind of childlike wonder still in pelle, some kind of playfulness and curiosity very obviously still left inside the man that so many claim to be heartless and cold…

you’ll probably have to convince him to just put a damn jacket on as he walks around the front of the house, not wanting his weak immune system to fall victim to a nasty cold, he’ll probably comply if just to please you! and when you finally wrangle him inside, he certainly won’t say no to you making him a nice hot drink, his tall and lanky stature standing in the kitchen and watching you as you make the drink for him, watching you with a gaze many would assume to be blank and uncaring but you can see more than that, anyone could see more than that if they really looked…

anyways, it just kind of came to me whilst it was raining today! still love sharing my random little thoughts and always remember, i welcome your thoughts into my ask box with open arms :)

[hannahssimblr]

That evening after I drive home the house is a battlefield. As soon as I let myself into the hallway the sounds of some escalating conflict are sweeping through from the kitchen, but it doesn’t surprise me. It’s been this way for months. I just toss my car keys onto the table and head upstairs. 

“Think about the way you make me live!” My mother shrieks as I shuffle through my desk drawer to retrieve my iPod and the noise cancelling headphones I use for my laptop. My dad says something in response, his rumbling tones infuriatingly calm, unfazed. He always speaks to her with such a patronising air of reasonableness, so honestly it’s no wonder she’s going insane.

“Ivy?” I knock on her bedroom door, “I’m back. Can I come in?”

Her voice is quiet within, “Yeah.”

“Hey, what’s up?” The noise from downstairs is louder I come inside, but Ivy’s room is right above the kitchen. I know she has been listening. She is perched on her bed kneading a corner of her blanket in her little hands, body tense and static like a startled cat. 

Mom raises her voice even further in shocked outrage, “What are you saying? Do you regret our children?”

“I just bought a cool new album,” I say, “do you want to hear it?”

“What’s it called?”

“Contra. You remember Vampire Weekend, right?”

“Um...”

“You liked their last album.”

“Did I?”

“Here,” I climb to my knees in front of her and plop the headphones onto her head. They’re big on her and want to slip down towards her jaw until i carefully adjust them while she watches me with interest. Everything I do is interesting to Ivy, even my thumb circling the dial on my iPod as I navigate to the first song on the album. I grin into her face, “can you hear me?”

She nods, so I crank it up, “how about now?”

She gasps, “It’s so loud! I can’t hear you!” 

“Good,” and I sit right by her, on the floor by her bed while she lays back and tries to hum along to songs she's never heard before. She does it in mom's car every time the radio comes on, which is apparently irritating, but I don't think so. She's a musical kid who is just trying to work something out in her head.

As I listen to her weird little melodies I doodle with a ballpoint pen I found in the pocket of my jacket. I've flipped to the back page of one of her school copy books, and I know she doesn’t mind, she can bring them into school and tell her classmates that she did them if she likes. 

Every now and again pieces of the argument are clear enough to understand, mostly mom’s side. “You do nothing around here, what are you talking about?” She screams, “You just sit in your office all night and-” some muffled aggression. Then at one point she brings up Fergal from work, which is a poor choice, because it really sets dad off. I know this because I finally hear a shocked “how dare you!” from him, which seems fair, actually. 

Fergal from work is her boyfriend. Or was, maybe, I don’t ask. All I know is that Fergal from work exists and that my mother was having an affair with him for, like, two years or something. I googled him when I first started hearing his name thrown around like daggers through the rooms of this house, and he’s pretty much how you might imagine a Fergal. He’s older, weedier and less good looking than my father, with hair so fine and light that his eyebrows are hardly visible and a hairline like the tide has gone out on it, but his smile is sort of kind. His LinkedIn picture has him smiling broadly and the lines on his face and around his eyes suggest that he’s spent a good chunk of his life doing just that. Smiling. Aside from likely being nice, he’s probably ten times more interesting than Christopher too, which has to be the real selling point. I bet that listens to her when she talks to him and makes her laugh, if she’s still capable of that, so I can’t really be angry with her about Fergal. I might have done the same thing as she did if I ever felt so trapped.  

I must be listening too obviously because Ivy slips the headphones off. “What are they saying?”

“Stupid shit, Ives, it’s not interesting.”

She pauses and says in a very small voice, “Do you think they’ll get a divorce?”

I turn to her, “They might. But I don’t think it’d be such a bad idea. Do you?”

She shrugs. 

“At least if they divorced they’d stop fighting.” At least eventually.

“They fight a lot,” she whispers, “I hate it.”

“Yeah, same.”

“What will happen to us? What if neither of them wants us?”

This surprises a laugh right out of me, “It's not like they'll have a choice. Did you think we’d get thrown into an orphanage or something?”

“Maybe.”

“I think you’ve been reading too many of those Jacqueline Wilson books about the kids from broken homes. Next time we go to the library we’ll get you something a bit less sad and tragic, do you think?”

She shrugs, but I'll get her into Goosebumps yet. I am determined.

“You want to know what I think?”

 A nod.

“I think them being divorced would actually be fine, because at least they wouldn’t be doing this all the time,” I tilt my head toward the floor, shaking with the reverberation of the slamming patio door, “And also we probably wouldn’t have to be around dad half as often.”

Ivy looks conflicted, “Well I don’t not want a dad.”

I almost tell her that Christopher isn’t that interested in his role as her father and the way that he interacts, or more accurately fails to interact with her, is not normal, even if it’s what she’s used to, and that I bet Fergal would be a better dad, but I figure it’s probably not the wisest to mention any of that. 

“He’ll still always be your dad, just like how mom will always be your mom and I’ll always be your brother, you know? No matter what happens or how things change. You're made from him, you know? That doesn't just go away.”

“I don’t want change.”

“Everything changes, all of the time.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to. Things move on whether you like it or not, and you have to accept it.”

Her eyes fill with tears, “I don’t want you to move away either.”

“No, c��mon,” I scramble onto her bed and pull her into my chest, “I know, but I can’t stay here forever, I’m an adult now, I’m going to have to go, but it’s not right away…” 

“Yes, but soon.”

I hesitate, “Oh, Ivy, it’s, like-”

“And then it’ll be just me, and everything will be different,” as tears overflow I understand that it’s not just about this, it’s about everything, all of the chaos and the disruption that I cannot fix. I just shush her and rock her side to side. It’s hard for her, but I refuse to lie to her about what might happen. 

“I need to move away, I feel like I don’t have another option.”

“But why?”

“I- I think you’ll get it when you’re older, maybe. It's just very important to me.”

“I won’t see you anymore.”

“Yes you will, maybe not as much, but you’ll get used to it really quickly. And imagine if I went to college somewhere really exciting, you could come and see me and we could do all kinds of fun stuff, yeah? Like if I’m in Paris, imagine, I could take you to Disneyland.”

She sniffles, “Paris?”

“Yeah, you loved Paris a couple of years ago, right?”

She nods and rubs her eyes, “Could we try and go up the Eiffel Tower again?”

“Duh, and you’d be old enough not to be so scared.”

“Maybe-” a thick swallow “maybe even your new house would have a balcony and we could see it from there.”

“Oh, for sure, and we’d get pastries from the bakery downstairs in the mornings, they'd just so happen to be best ones ever, and there’d be a man playing the accordion outside- no, everywhere, like, no matter where we go, he’s there with his swirly little French Guy moustache...”

She giggles, “Is he following us around?”

“Oh, yeah, a total stalker, actually. Maybe we’d have to call the French police on him.” 

We both laugh as she dries her face with her sleeves. Coming up with all the very French things we would do in Paris, every detail down to the layout of my beautiful Haussmann style apartment overlooking the Seine is nice.

I'm not stupid, of course, I know perfectly well that the reality of a move to Paris would involve me and Michelle stuffed into a Chambre de Bonne tiny enough to touch both walls at the same time, tripping over half baked art projects and every possession we own, our pent up frustration causing us to have screaming matches that would wake up the whole arrondissement, but it’s nice to be an idealist for a minute or two. 

“Where else could you live?” she asks me once we’ve exhausted all of the parisian stereotypes and run out of hypotheticals. 

“Hmm, how about Amsterdam?”

“Oh! Anne Frank lived there, we read the book at school last year.”

I tell her that yes, if I lived there I’d take her to see the house with that stairway hidden behind the bookcase, and then we would... cycle around the place and annoy everyone because she’s so unsteady on her bike. I make up a story about how she keeps swerving out of her lane and getting in everybody's way, eventually causing a giant bike pile up along the canal like some sort of rat king of Dutch cyclists.

“Where else!”

“Um, Berlin...” and I purse my lips and try to think of things to do in Berlin that are appropriate for a nine year old, but for some reason all I can think of is a surly line of leather clad druggies in front of a techno club. “They like going to nightclubs, I guess…”

“I can go to a nightclub.”

“Yeah, as if! You’d hate it, it’s just loud music and everyone bumping into you. Hey, you know there’s one nightclub in Berlin that’s so exclusive that they only let the coolest people in Europe inside? You have to wait in line for hours and if they think you’re even a little bit uncool then they send you home.”

Her eyes get wide, “Really? Hm. I think I could get in.”

The idea of Ivy being let into Berghain makes me guffaw, “Oh, you think so, do you?”

“Yeah I’m cool enough!”

“No you aren’t.”

“I am,” she leaps up and pretends to strangle me while I hold her at arm's length, “there’s no such thing as a cool nine year old.”

“There’s no such thing as a cool eighteen year old either.”

“Uh! There is, you're looking at one. I would get into that club, no doubt.”

“No you wouldn’t, they wouldn’t even let you in the line.”

“Nah, they’d beg me to come in because I’d make it cooler.”

“They’d see you coming and pretend to be closed.”

As we laugh and make stupid, childish jokes at one another I’m aware of an acceptance I feel with her that I don’t around other people. I’m never really so blatantly stupid and goofy in public, but Ivy, who has become my favourite person in the world, no matter what I do or say it’s funny, and she never thinks I’m weird, at least not in a bad way. I can fully let my guard down. Even though the fighting has stopped I don't really want to leave, but the moon has risen now, and the grasshoppers are chirping. Ivy has to sleep.

I gather up my headphones and iPod and get up, despite her protests and attempts to come up with more funny things we might do as we galivant through fictional Europe.

“You're stalling,” I say, “you know well you have to go to sleep now.”

“No, no! Just one more thing!”

“Nope! Sorry! And don’t forget to brush your teeth, or I’ll tell dad.”

She pulls her ugliest face. She knows I’d never, but it’s funny, like telling a christian kid that Satan is watching.

I shut the door very gently. It's not particularly late, maybe ten, but the house is morgue quiet, almost eerie, like the aftermath of a hurricane. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[prismaticfaery]

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ghost has rules for himself to follow, that much is clear. But with you around, he can't seem to follow them.

TW: Some cursing, jealousy from Ghost if you squint, injuries, blood, typical Call of Duty stuff.

Rating: Mature, for safety!

Requested by: simonsdoll ❤️

A/N: I had gotten nearly halfway done when I realized you wanted headcanons, I am so sorry! Let me know if you want me to do something different for you.

There were certain precautions Ghost liked to take, one: trust no one. Two: don’t get too personal. Three: don’t fall in love, because it’s going to hurt like hell and what if they end up like his entire family? He could keep going down the list but it would take a while. 

You joined Task Force 141 as a sniper— a sharp shooter to be exact. You had great skill, and were disciplined. Price selected you himself after seeing your skills in action on the field when you accompanied himself and Gaz on a mission.  

The first time Simon questioned himself on his “list of precautions”, was when you had been introduced to the Task Force. Being the person he was, Simon took a spot in the very back of the room, Gaz being right in front of him. The briefing room door opened, revealing a very new face on base. You were small but most people compared to himself were small, and had a friendly disposition, your hands clasped together in front of you, your lips turned up in a slight smile as you stood next to Price. You seemed to be quite popular already as people showed their interest in you the moment you walked through the briefing room door, their backs straightening and their attention on you. 

“I’d like for you all to meet Y/N, she’ll be our newest Task Force member,” Price’s arm stretched out, his hand motioning for you to come forth, ”Gaz, show her around base.”

“Yes, sir,” Gaz nodded, then motioned for her to sit next to him during the briefing. 

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Simon crosses his arms, slumping down. He could have shown you around, he was higher up after all. Quickly realizing that he was acting like a toddler, he straightened his spine, listening to Price’s speech about contraband being high lately on base and how it needs to be cracked down on. Bloody hell, Simon thought, this is tedious.

As the briefing went on, Simon caught your quick shift in your seat, the briefing packet you had gotten was across your lap, your pen in hand, and your head tilted down. You were taking notes from what it looked like, until he heard an unbearable amount of scratching from your pen suddenly. Leaning in his seat a little, he could see black ink splotches on your packet of paper, no doubt small doodles that you were creating. Gaz was looking down at your packet, a smile on his face, quietly mentioning how nicely you draw. Moving your head to face Gaz, Simon could see your lovely smile, genuine and with little creases in the corners, and Simon couldn’t help but think about how adorable it was seeing your smile, even though it was from the side. 

From that moment on, Simon was struck by your very presence— something drew him to you. He would steal glances whenever he could, try to choose the spot next to you during briefings, riding in vehicles, anything. 

He was a fool to think this was going to get anywhere, he was your superior and he wasn’t ready for the possible heartbreak and rejection. 

Then his mind brought him back to his rules and he’d slink back into his hole of refusing to get close to anyone out of fear and previous trauma. He couldn’t save his family, but he could save you. 

The second time Ghost questioned himself was when you were invited to sit with everyone in the mess hall weeks later, Gaz waving quite fervently for you to come over to the table. Beside Simon, sat Soap, Gaz in front of them, with Price settled next to Gaz. Taking the free spot next to Gaz, you placed your tray of breakfast down, then swung your legs over the bench seat to finally relax in the seat. You and Simon had already gone on two missions together, and he wanted to consider you at least an acquaintance. 

You had taken to sitting alone or with the friends you had made over your short time on base, eating quietly with a book or your phone placed on the table, so it was quite shocking to have Gaz ask for you to sit with him and the other superiors. Never getting along with the other superiors at your last base, it was strange having such friendly comrades who never pulled rank or degraded you for being a woman even though you just so happened to be a better shot than them. 

Gaz was bringing up a new TV show he had started as you had silently taken a drink of your orange juice. It was strange, but you could feel a chill make its way down your neck, and then your spine. It was almost as if someone was watching you and you were correct, Ghost’s hazel eyes were stalking your every move. You had noticed over time that this was something Ghost did a lot, and not just to you. He was analytical and mistrusting of everyone he didn’t consider a friend or close comrade. This was alluring to you– his mysterious shroud, and you found yourself wanting to squeeze into his close circle. 

Being quite the silent and stern one, Ghost had put you on edge a few times and you had even yelled at him to wear a bell or something so he wouldn’t scare the crap out of you anymore when he entered the room you were in. But during one of your last missions together, he had opened up a bit and asked you some simple “break the ice” questions as you had set up for the night in a safe house with your squad. It was clear how much he cared for his team and for the Task Force’s purpose by the different ways he performed on the field. 

“Everything okay, sir?” You finally ask, placing your glass of half finished orange juice back down on the table. 

Snapping out of his strange daze, Simon nodded, blond lashes downturned now as he picked up his cup of hot tea, lifting up his black balaclava to take a sip. He was always calculated with how he ate and drank, his arm always sneakily covering his exposed chin and mouth. You had asked Gaz about why he hid his face, to which he replied: “he just does.”

Throughout the rest of breakfast, Simon sneaks small peeks at you, and he was absolutely sure that you had no idea, but you knew. It made your heart pound, and your cheeks heat up knowing that he seemed to have found interest in you. You felt like a highschooler with a crush. 

And boy did Simon feel the same, but he had his rules. 

The third time was when the Task Force had an important mission, you stayed stationed on top of a roof, your head covered with a sniper hood as you lay prone, watching your team sneak through the building ahead of you. With the building’s lights on, you could see clearly through the large windows, sniping anyone that came into your field of view. 

“Gaz, help me breach this door,” Price says through the comms. 

“Yes, sir,” Gaz replies. 

You could see Price and Gaz huddle to the sides of the door, readying their weapons as they kick the door down. Once they clear the room, they begin searching for intel, searching through all of the computers. 

You then move your rifle to watch Ghost through your scope, his large form taking down a smaller male, his pistol smacking the man straight on the nose before squeezing the trigger and letting a bullet embed into the man’s skull. 

“Nice moves, L.t.,” you switch comms channels quickly to speak through to Ghost’s channel, your voice sounding quite flirtatious in your Lieutenant’s ear. 

“You like that, eh?” Ghost sounded amused, a giddiness floating through his body. 

Ghost’s weapon is brought up at the ready suddenly, and you soon notice why. Two men come through the hallway, inching in on Ghost’s position. You position your sniper rifle to hover over one of the men’s heads, pulling the trigger and hitting him right through the skull, his body tumbling to the floor. His partner begins to panic, his knees bending so he could duck away from another possible shot from the shadows. Quickly positioning the scope to hover above him and waiting for the gust of wind to die down, you dispose of him before Ghost can. 

Watching Ghost peek his head out of the door and into the hall was like birthday gift and you start snickering when he visually shrugs his shoulders, “woman after my own heart,” Ghost says into his comms. 

“You’re welcome, L.t.,” you muse, voice dripping with pride. 

Fucking hell, you’re going to be the death of him. 

The fourth time, months later while in the desert of Al Mazrah, Ghost was the one to notice you had taken a hit to your leg. You hid your pain well but as you rode in the backseat of a truck, thigh to thigh with him, he felt the warm and wet sensation of your blood staining his own cargo pants. Your eyes pleaded with him– begging him to not tell any of the men in your squad that you took a hit. 

You made the stupid decision to snipe another sniper, and he happened to see the glint of your scope and take his shot before you could. The bullet grazed your leg, gashing it open. You choke on a gasp as you clutch your leg and roll over onto your back to hide away from the other sniper. Thankfully, the roof had good cover. 

“Couldn’t get the sniper on the roof, he saw me,” you conceal your voice, sounding as normal as you can, but the need to wail and scream from the pain was heavy. 

“I’ve got him in my sight,” you hear Ghost over comms, he was in his own sniping position on another roof. 

As you sit with your leg gashed open and your wound bleeding still, you grit your teeth, your bottom sat on the side of the bathtub of the safe house, the cold from the porcelain gnawing at your bare legs and underwear covered bum. You had a trauma kit sitting on the floor, bloody gauze discarded all around your feet, you nearly cried, knowing damn well that you’d need to stitch yourself up with no pain management. You hold a new sheet of gauze to your leg, pressing down to keep bleeding minimal, your other hand fiddling with a needle already threaded and ready to use. 

Someone barges through the door, scaring the life out of you as you scramble to cover yourself, “nothing I haven’t seen before, calm yourself,” Ghost’s deep voice brings you out of your tizzy, your eyes settling on him as he crouches down in front of you. 

“Is the door locked?” You ask hurriedly. 

Nodding, Ghost takes his skeleton hand gloves off, handing them to you, “I can’t promise you that those aren’t filthy but they’ll come in use if you need to scream.”

There was no way in hell those gloves were going in your mouth. 

Spraying his hands with antiseptic, he grabs the needle and thread from you, placing his other hand gingerly on your thigh. Looking up into your eyes, you nod and give him permission to start. As he pushes the needle through your skin, you grit your teeth and hiss, a low groan rumbling in your throat. 

“What’s your name?” You ask, Ghost’s eyes narrowing from the very random question you asked, and soon he realizes it was your way of distracting yourself, “surely your name isn’t Ghost.”

“It’s Simon,” your Lieutenant answers quickly, his hand squeezing your thigh to get the needle through your flesh quicker. 

“Hm, very nice,” Simon huffs a quiet chuckle at your comment and how it sounded so monotone suddenly.

As Simon continues stitching up your wound, you begin to breathe heavily, squeezing Simon’s gloves. He wipes away a small trail of blood flowing down your thigh with a gauze before it lands on the floor, his fingers nimble and firm. Simon’s hand then grips your thigh harder to avert your attention away from the stinging and pulling from the needle and thread. 

“You know, you could tell me that you like me,” you smirk. 

“What the hell are you going on about?” Simon is unamused, flipping the bottle of antiseptic over, the gauze on the opening soaking through; he’d be lying if he said his cheeks weren’t on fire from your last sentence. 

“Cut the shit, L.t., it’s just us right now.”

“Yeah well, you’re bleeding and this is hardly the place,” the cold sting of the antiseptic soaked gauze makes you flinch. 

“I think this is the perfect place,” you look around the bathroom, then back at Simon. 

Once the antiseptic is wiped onto your skin, Simon then covers your wound with a gauze, making sure the adhesive sticks along the borders. He then sighs and sits back on his heels, looking straight at you. 

“I told myself that I wouldn’t get attached to anyone, but I find myself not sticking to my word,” Simon confesses, and you find yourself watching your features soften in the reflection of his hazel pools. 

“And what if I felt the same?” You state, watching his eyes soften now, his long blond lashes were giving you butterflies. 

“Then let me take you out when we get back home and we can go from there.”

[lovemybluebully]

hello hi yes after seeing your sign off suggestion I would like to call dibs on the spider emoji, that is me now, I am spider anon. If I make an alt I'll work that somewhere into the name. I think spiderling is someone else already but idk. It's a good name.

Ive decided im gonna try to expand my little blurb and write a full fic, and if I like how it turns out I'll make an alt and post it. Or maybe doodle a little comic, it's been many moons since I've drawn tho. I'm kind of stumped as to how I could best order the 4 facets of the idea to flow well, but in general do you have any advice for writing tickle fics?

Obligatory idea:

Wade introduces Logan to a game where you trace shapes or letters (and at some point he draws a dick because it's Wade) on the other's back and they have to guess. Logan finds it relaxing even if it does tickle, it feels nice, not that he'd admit it, and if he keeps laying down on his stomach without a shirt on around Wade thats his buisness. When Wade finally gets his turn the traces make him all squirmy, and eventually Logan just pins him down because he's drawn a star 7 times in a row and he'd like to move on now. Did Wade plan for this to happen? Or did he not think that far ahead? not even he knows.

-spider anon🕷

Awesome! Spider Anon it is! You sound like you have a lot of great ideas in your head so to see any of them come to life through a fic or a drawing by you would be very welcomed!

I don't have much advice because my writing technique is such a shit show operation, but I generally will get my main ideas and write out the scenes that are fresh in my mind first (no matter at what point they're gonna end up in the fic) and then work in my smaller ideas around them to fill in the rest. Sometimes I write the ending first, sometimes the intro, sometimes the middle. Surprisingly I always find the actual tickle scenes being the hardest to write. 😅 A lot of times I get hit with the writer's block and have no idea what I'm going to write next so then I just need to step away from it for a while to try to clear out the brain fog. Maybe even start writing something else until I figure it out. It would be literally painful for anyone to actually watch me write a fic. lol Sorry, probably not too helpful.

The tracing game sounds delightful though! LMAO Wade would totally be drawing things like dicks. 🤣 Logan would be like, "Why did you draw it so small? You didn't have to base it off of your own." I like him going around without a shirt on and plopping down somewhere to entice Wade to play the game. I genuinely think you're right that not even Wade knew what he expected when he was on the receiving end. lol He's over there drawing complex shapes like dicks, and he can't even guess a simple fucking star. 😂 You have such fun ideas. I really hope you can manage to write something.

[gullableh]

IM GAY FOR YOU

Warnings : male reader, he/him pronounce.

Karasu is a simp. Ooc ( I tried my best) 

Not proofread (it's late and I made this in a hurry please don't hate me)

Kinda slow-burn-ish

Reader is from a different country

Time takes place before blue lock

(C/n) = country name

I have no clue what happened to the pov

I guess this is in karasu's pov.

lazy writing, I was making this in a hurry (again)

Rushed.

I tried my best😓

You

Karasu

★

★

★

★

★

★

★

★

Karasu was not gay by any means. He never found guys attractive, he never thought romantically about a man, and he never had a relationship with a guy. And he wasn't planning on it

Well... He wasn't planning on it untill he saw you.

You the foreign exchange student, who just travelled from (c/n) to Japan. 

You who looked so pretty and surreal. Prettier than any girl he ever saw.

You who spoke so cutely in Japanese while trying you're best to introduce yourself Infront of the class.

You who had the most ethereal eyes he had ever locked eyes on

You who gently smiled towards him as the both of you held eye contact

You who sat next to him, sparking a conversation, while having the brightest smile, And the most uplifting personality he's ever seen in a person

Karasu who at that moment fell in love with you, without even knowing it. 

----------★------------

"Hello, I hope you don't mind me sitting next to you"

Y/n said with a soft smile on his face, as he directed his attention towards karasu. Looking towards karasu 

"I'm y/n, as I said earlier. And you are?..."

Y/n asked still looking at karasu with curiosity.

Karasu who was lost in his thoughts, karasu who was wondering what he had done so good in his past life, to deserve an ethereal being like y/n even sparing a glimpse towards him.

He was so caught up in his mind and his thought's that it took him a little while before you're words registered through his brain.

In a panick after realizing he probably looked like a creep while staring at you and saying nothing, he imidiatly answered.

"Uh..uhm k-karasu tobito"

FUCK he screwed up, his voice was high, way higher than he expected, and not only that but he had also stumbled over his words. Still to shocked about you. He just embarrassed himself Infront of you, no big deal. This will only haunt karasu for the rest of his life nothing big. 

Karasu face slowly went red as he realized how embarrassing he must've sounded. God he sounded so mediocre. 

Karasu again was lost in his thoughts, drowning himself further into his own embarrassment, untill a sudden angelic like laugh pulled him out of his thoughts and directed his attention towards the owner of the laugh. 

You. You where laughing so prettily too, covering youre mouth with you're hand trying to muffle you're laughter.

Normally he would feel irritated or annoyed whenever he would get laughed at.

But with you.

With you it was a complete different story.

With you, you could practically stab him in the back with that kind smile on you're face. And he wouldn't even get angry.

He would be to mesmerized by you're beauty 

"Sorry..pff sorry... It's nice to meet you karasu."

Y/n said while clearing their throat midway their sentence. A kind smile still lingering on his face. Karasu could stare hours and hours to you, and he would never get bored by you're beauty.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too, y/n"

Karasu mumbled out, thankfully this time, his voice didnt sound like a high school girls voice. And he again didn't stutter. Oke this is good, he just need to act cool like this, and not make another mistake easy. 

The moment after that flew by to fast for karasu, the entire time he wasn't even paying attention to class. He was either thinking about you, or sneaking little glances you're way. 

Karasu was thankfully for his kean eye. 

As he could notice everything about you.

the way you would doodle on you're notebook, the way you would flick you're pen whenever you didn't understand a certain subject or problem. The way you're eyes would sparkle whenever you saw something interesting or something had peaked you're interest.

Karasu was taking all of this information up. 

He wanted to know you, talk to you, have a conversation with you again. But something stopped him.

Normally karasu without difficulty could easily be interactive if he pleased to (wich he doesn't) but with you. Something was holding him back.

Was he afraid?...how mediocre.

---------★-------

A few months has passed since y/n had moved to Japan. And these weird feelings haven't gone since. Actually karasu thinks they've even gotten worse.

Everytime he thinks about you, his stomach is filled with butterfly's. Whenever he even sees a glimpse of you, his entire face turns red.

Karasu wondered what these feelings where.

Perhaps he was sick. Or you just had captured his attention. Karasu thought that these 'feelings' would eventually pass away. And things would turn back to normal.

But it didn't. And I don't think these feelings will pas away any time soon.

For some reason, you where stuck in his mind. Glued to his thoughts, all he could think about was you and you're beautiful smile. 

Eventually he started asking around, what this exactly was. Why was he feeling these type of things. He even went so far to ask from his sister.

And in the end, these weird emotions where just feelings for you. He was...I love with you.

So.. is karasu indeed gay? He didn't know and honestly he didn't care about his sexuality at the moment, all he could think was you. You. you. you.

You.

God he was such a mediocre, fool Inlove.

-------------★------------

"Oh hey karasu, is there something you wanted to tell me?"

Months after he had figured out his feelings for you, he had finally gathered enough courage to go and confess to you.

Yesterday, after a quick peptalk with his sister, he had decided to do it. 'Better do it now, than regret later' where his sister's words to be exact.

The entire morning was hazy, it went by to fast. All he could remember is waking up *blink* and suddenly he was on his way to school. 

Noon also went by quickly, but this time his mind and thoughts where filled with, what ifs. Or possibilities.

What if you didn't even like guys.

What if you would think karasu is weird

What if you never wanted to talk to him again?

It disturbed karasu quite a lot. But nonetheless he had made a decision. And he isn't mediocre enough to flunk out on his own promise. 

And then finally the end of the day arrived. The time where he's going to confess. To tell you everything. Everything he wanted to say to you. Everything he wants to know about you. He wants to tell you everything.

"Yeah, I did. It was kinda important, that's why I had to drag you out here."

Karasu jokes trying to calm himself before spilling everything, a small chuckle escaped

 y/n lips. God he was perfect, was the only thing karasu could think.

"Well what's so important then?"

You, is what karasu wanted to say. But he didn't instead he opted to taking a deep breathe and straight up tell you. There was no reason for him to hide it any longer. And he won't.

"I don't want to waste you're time, so I'll say it straight away."

Karasu looked towards y/n with sincerity. 

"I have had feelings for you, ever since I saw you. You kept clouding my thought's and I couldn't get you out of my head."

"I hope this won't change anything between us. I just wanted to get this out of the way."

It was quiet, y/n hadn't uttered a word out ever since, karasu would be lying if he didn't say that he was nervous.

But then, he saw the slight pink red colour adorning on y/n's face, and at that moment karasu felt hope. Perhaps he might like him back?

"I guess we had the same idea."

Y/n laughed out lowly. His face was covered in blush. 

"I like you too karasu".

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

Tags: @milaisreading, @plsmarrymepablocavasoz, @jujutsustraycats

If you couldn't tell, I love it when men are head over heels for someone, to the point they cant even function properly 🤭

[kaledya]

Hello ! 🌸

So, yes I see harvesting purple cords for Lolicia like someone who do gardening but like a professional. Like someone who have collection of carnivorous plants and flowers, for exemple, will stay a lot of time in their garden, observe the plant, give them food, even draw them or write their eating schedule ? Or gardening bonsai (little Japanese trees) needs a lot of 'care' to not die immediately. Attending the purple cords would be like that!

_

Oh, that is what you mean ! Hum... what can I tell without spoiling... okay I have some personality traits and habits for Lolicia :

  - Lolicia is a good listener

  - Lolicia can enter in a phase of 'stillness' where she can't move for days, without eating/drinking/functioning in general. And she is just there, motionless, the time pass and she can't see it passing so from time to time she can be a bit confused of what the heck is happening around her when she "awakes".

That can put her into position when someone could have tell her something when she was motionless, thinking she was listening to them but not at all. I think it can be annoying for people to deal with it. The trick is to double check if she is responding or call her name.

  -  Lolicia's mind is like a line with two bubbles at each side. This sides are called 'extreme'. And on this line there is a little ball that move back and forth between the extremes. Most of the time it is kept that way. Its a balance and its nice.

Left side is extreme compassion, and understanding, and its just amazing and lucky would be the Chosen One to keep the ball in that bubble, in Lolicia's presence. It never happened yet. There was only one person who was able to be very close to that extreme, for now.🌸

Right side is extreme violence and nobody wants to make the ball go into this bubble. Alastor did it once and he still remembers it.

- If Lolicia is touched and didn't expect it and doesn't like the person who did it, the red scales of her body slip off and it needs an entire day to grow back and she hates it and probably that would put the person on the wrong extreme of her mind.

(fun fact : it's because 'deep-sea anglerfish skin is grimy black or gray and fragile, without scales. In fact, their skin is so thin it can slip off their bodies when touched by human hands retrieving them from deep-ocean nets'.)

  - Once Lolicia is... confortable with someone she plays a lot. She will make energy for the playtime and be a bit faster than her usual slow pace for this person. She plays with the mind and physically, testing dominance and trying to see how the supremacy is doing.

  - Lolicia don't sleep inside the bed or on thr bed or under the cover. Lolicia sleeps curled up on top of the pillow.

I hope it was good type of exemples ahah _

Of course you got it right for Val and Lolicia backstory! And yes for the others Overlords, for exemple with Vox they will have their first interaction in the meeting! _

When I read the message for the first time, I laugh loud and clear for the necrohamster joke ahah _

  - Yes freedom from the grandma voice and the illness !   - Who would say no to more Serenity ? Not me ! Jacket time !

_

And thank you, I'm glad you like my writing ! It makes me very happy !! 🌸🌸(As I like your works too) _

Ps : the random doodle of Serenity and Constantine is fire !!   - Serenity position with her paws on the table I took it as inspiration for her general sitting in the overlords meeting (fun fact)   - UwU Constantine is so cute i could have never imagine him do this face   - Teen Constantine being like "I AM your prince you will obey me !" Ahah slay babycake.   - Serenity demon pre-phase with her skin falling off is so great for the "wolf in sheep clothing" ref and also the way she dies in reality ! Great character design/idea!   - The flirting part with Constantine!!

I just imagine Serenity and Constantine talking  and Constantine explain to Serenity that Lolicia has something special he need to understand (like a mad scientist finding a new type of radium ahah). And Serenity is just smirking like :

S : "Lolicia, hum ? Are you sure ? Perhaps you are not ready for that." C : "What is 'that' exactly means, Serenity ?" S : "You know. Oh no! The prince is fumbled !" *put her hands on her cheeks 'O'* "Do you even know what flirting is ?"

At that moment Constantine knows what exactly  she is talking about it take back is full confidence, like its a damn challenge ahah

C : "I see. Don't think I can't do it just because I haven't done it before, my dear. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Silver-tongue activated. *gun sound*

Ahah [Constantine is so pretty in your drawing of him !! I swear next time I will give him a real costume ! I'm so late in the gifts aaaah. Thank you ! And the cameo of Angel Dust in the back between Alastor and Serenity ahah love it 🤣]

Thank you again you are amazing 🌸🌸

The way you explained they relationship with Purple cord was really nice.And for some reason, I think Lolicia could buy themself a garden like Stolas' garden in Hell, if possible.

-I think it really suits they personality that they is a good listener!!

-I seriously find the 'stillness' phase very interesting. , I think it's something does by some animal species.And it's really interesting that at this stage, Lolicia is not aware of what's happening around her and someone has to tell her what's going on.

-And it's nice to have two bubbles in her mind and a line in the middle.And I guess medium is best, balance is always nice.But I wonder who brought her closest to the good bubble And what did Alastor do to get into the bad bubble?And of course, I don't think that experience that will be forgotten.

-AND Lolicia's reaction to unwanted touches is really beautiful Sort of like a prickly hedgehog, it sheds its scales/thorns when there is a threat or an unwanted touch.It's really interesting how her body reacts to something like this.Sort of like feathers that rise up when scared.And yes, it's only natural that she hates it, after all, who wants to deal with those scales growing back.

Thank you for the funfact, it is really interesting to get such information about angler fishler.It's interesting how thin their skin is.Maybe it might be related to the fact that they live very, very deeply.

-It's really interesting that Lolicia acts like this with someone she's comfortable with. I can't wait to see her act like that

-Wait what...how?? So, does she curl up on the pillow and lie in a ball like a little fox??? SO CUTEEEEEEE!!

And yes, thank you for saying these their are really good examples!!

-----

And yes, seriously, it was obvious that Val could not accept rejection.Also, it was so fun to watch him get angry after he didn't do something even though he wanted to do something in the meeting! (Suffer val)

-I'm so glad you liked my Necrohamster joke.Sans-level jokes are always entertaining.

And yes, I really like your writing, you always bless me.🛐🛐🛐

I'm so glad you liked the doodle!!

Yes!!! Thank you for using that sitting, I was really happy while reading it!!And overall, I think you wrote Serenity SOO GOOD. She is reallyAct like a wolf in sheep's clothing

And serenity's . After giving the task to Velvet, while Velvet was happy, Serenity said to Velvet, "Who am I to not give pocket money to a beggar?" What she said was absolutely perfect. 🤌🤌

-I didn't think Con would make a UwU face either, but I was curious what it would look like He looks so cute when he's shy or laughing

-LMAO and yes. Teenage Constantine is seriously too serious I can't take him saying such things seriously when he looks like that really a babycake

-I'm really glad you liked Serenity's transformation.And yes, she is literally a wolf in sheep's clothing, so when it transforms, it sheds its skin like a lizard, or rather, it tears hers skin off.

-And lmao I loved the dialogues between Constantine and Serenity because of his curiosity about Lolica.Seriously, something like this could happen hahah Probably Constantine, if you are told him that he cannot do one things, he will try to master at that.

Lolicia.she is a really interesting case, there is something about her, I can't fully understand it,But I seriously want to understand, I haven't seen such an interesting closed box in front of me for a long time.

-Oh. my ..god finally our cold-hearted prince is interested in someone, well dear If you want to satisfy your curiosity/interest, you can start with flirting, maybe like everyone else does.

-Flirting?? Oh no no you misunderstood me dearly I have no interest in her that way. I have an interest in herlike a scientist discovering a new element. I want to learn more about hef because I think the things I will learn as a result of my research will be unique.

*Serenity with the most disbelieving face in the world*

"Yeah yeah. I'm sureeeee This is The reason"

I'm glad you like my Con drawings.But you already give him great costumes, he always looks great in your drawings!!

And thank you very much again for your drawings!!❤️❤️

And I'm so glad you liked the angeldust cameo!!

And thank you so much for the answers and you are amazing too!!🛐❤️❤️🌸

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Midnight Snack

You catch Shuji's eye in the library at uni and he absolutely must take you out.

Just some shuji fluff for the dash. He's a little weird here sorry lmao. Reader is grumpy and tired. Unproofread.

Shuji can't get enough of you. He has a nasty (though endearing) habit of staring.

It's actually how you met.

In the library at uni, trying to get away from noisy roommates and distractions, you sat yourself in a gloomy corner, eyes hazy and unfocused on the article you were "reading."

Until movement caught your eye.

You don't see him at first, the playful fuck. He ducks behind a DiffyQ textbook that, looking back, definitely isn't his. You pay no mind. Whatever. Let the motherfucker stare, you've got shit due tonight. It's not like you're unaccustomed to annoying attention from men and their "you'd look so much better if you smiled" bullshit.

Fuck. You got yourself in a mood now.

Like clockwork, a tuft of grown-out bleached hair and a pair of golden eyes peeks out hoping to catch yours without detection. You snap in his directions and he ducks again. You swear to God you hear a giggle and the rustling thud of a heel knocking into a limb.

When you look, no, glare back, the decoy textbook is down and he's smiling, wide and goofy (and rubbing his shin). You raise a brow and go back to your work, fruitlessly, because he takes the acknowledgement as an invitation. Before you know it hes dragging a heavy wooden chair loudly and sitting across from you.

He's tall. He's huge, really. He's objectively rather gorgeous with a nice jawline and lively eyes that study you, like you're the only thing, even in a building full of decades and decades of knowledge, worth studying.

"Can I fucking help you?"

"i think you can."

"I've got a deadline in 2 hours, make it quick."

"Let me take you for a late night meal. A reward for finishing your....school thing." You almost want to laugh. School thing? Does he even go here? He must sense the shift in mood and it further boosts his confidence. "Come on," he lets the word wobble like a kid pushing their luck, "you're the coolest girl in this place, let me show you a good time."

You can't place it exactly, maybe it's in the wiggle of his eyebrows or the groan of secondhand embarrassment from his friend not far away, but you get a relatively innocent vibe. You turn him away with a terse, maybe and watch as he wanders back to his friend, bounce in his step and high on premature victory.

His gaze isn't as heavy for the duration of your time there. He busies himself with doodles in the margins of Kisaki's work that he thought was math, but maybe is actually Greek; Shuji doesn't care. He's got an absolute beauty on his mind.

He's enraptured by her. Her focused scowl and the way her eyes narrow at the screen. The way her lips purse around the straw of what once was probably iced coffee. The art in her skin that he can see until the aircon kicks on and she puts another layer back on. Shuji is reminded in that moment that he hates the cold so, so much, and even more now that it's stolen away a part of the art he'd been admiring.

He huffs and loses himself if scribbling whatever comes to mind to kill time. He misses you packing your things quietly, work completed just before the deadline and he jumps to cover his scribbles when you clear your throat.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Hanma."

You groan, "Actually I'm leaving."

"Come on it was funny!"

"Are you twelve?"

You bicker with the cute giant the whole way out of the library with a smile tugging at your lips. You'd seen the scribbles, he wasn't slick.

Variations of, "God she's kind of insanely pretty. No seriously she's so pretty" up and down the margins. This guy was kind of embarrassing, silly, a wildcard, and well, those are the best people to eat fast food with at 11:59 pm.

It's the first of many midnight snacks.

Yeah that's right bitch this one's for you @sin-and-punishment shuji is down bad for you and I will not be told otherwise.

[drawingducktalesducks]

Can you tell a little more about the future AU May and June and their adoptive parents?

feverish and not even sure where that doodle came from. here's some odds and ends tho

people assume the fashion designer would like everything Just So, all neat and tidy, and the long haul fisherwoman who's off sailing for moths would be fine with controlled chaos

dead wrong

the INSTANT May docks in Duckburg her anxiety spikes because she can just FEEEEEL June's messy work space

May dropping off a bucket of sea serpent scales, filling the bucket with soapy water, whipping out a mop and dust pan, and attacking her little sister's room with all the wild, furious intensity of someone trying to bail out a sinking ship

Donald likes helping but usually gets tangled up in the vacuum cord at some point

June hides booby traps for May to find in her messes. Just to have a little fun

You know how much she's been missing her sister by how many and how complex the traps are

While May is busy cleaning (and clearing) her room, June has a tradition of going on May's ship and hiding nice little nick-knacks all over it- a cool rock, a candy bar, a cursed knife Webby brought home from her last adventure... just fun surprises to break up May's extremely regulated life at sea

Daisy knits May a new wool sweater every year, and May always tears up when she get it

Donald not only has a dozen pictures of all his kids in his wallet, he also has pictures of May's first catches and allllll the clothes June has ever designed.

He talks to May about sailing to make sure she's being safe and doing okay- He listens to June talk about clothes design and construction afterwards, to calm down and distract himself from thoughts of May fighting sea monsters.

June understands that fashion trends are a thing but since they're a thing that doesn't often align with her interests she chooses to ignore them and just make what she likes

She never gets super well known as a result and doesn't mind at all

Miss Glamour admires her confidence and ends up hiring her as an assistant after Daisy starts up her own business- which nobody understands, since June doesn't cater to Glamour at ALL and the vibe is more "doting grandmother happily has tea with her headstrong and irreverent grandchild"

Daisy and June do mother-daughter martial arts exercises every morning and evening, before and after work, to stave off the carpel tunnel, and Daisy still has no idea how she survived so long without it

May tries keeping a logbook while out sailing but usually ends up writing another paperback spy novel instead (penname: Gray Gullson) 

Beakly is a BIG fan

Beakly has no idea why May keeps wanting to have teatime chats with her about the old spy days but enjoys them quite a bit in any case

June kindly pretends not to understand why her sister needs to know if you could sew secrets or poisons into dress

and she puts May’s latest novel draft back into its hiding place when she accidentally finds it

...

she also edits the draft for spelling mistakes and leaves suggestions in the margins, in May's own handwriting, knowing it'll freak her sister out when SHE finds it

they make an effort to be together for the anniversary of Black Heron's "disappearance" (June paradropped onto May's ship from the Sunchaser once) but still aren't sure how they're supposed to spend it

they always call or visit with Daisy and Donald the day afterwards though

"...you ever think about what we would do, if she came back?"

"Disappoint her, probably. We're not exactly super villains."

"Yeah...."

"..."

"I hope we'd fight her."

"I think we would. I mean, if she tried to hurt mom or dad..."

"Or Webby or the Sabrewings."

"The boys too."

"Ducks and McDucks. Beakly."

"Launchpad."

"Gyro?"

"I guess pretty much anyone, really."

"We do have a lot of people to fight for these days."

"Maybe she'd be proud of us for that?"

"..."

"..."

"Probably not."

"Well I'm proud of us."

"Yeah. Me too."

"And I wouldn't trade Donald or Daisy for anything."

"Never."

"Ever."

"..."

"...I miss them."

"Same. Let's go home."