#procrastination drabble

[onboardsorasora]

Not sure if I like it, but this not about me😅 so here we are Tennis AU;

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Part 4!

Daniel collapsed onto his back, star fishing on the court in the shade. His white shorts rode up to show off his pulsing sweaty thighs. His leg hairs were pressed down and slick. His tattoos glistened.

He'd been running drills for too long, if you asked Micheal (don't), he'd say it wasn't long enough. They'd been at it all day, running through their program steadily.

His phone went off in his duffle.

"Is that the power rangers theme?" Micheal paused and raised a brow.

"Kim Possible actually, rude." Daniel pointed his racquet limply in Michael's general direction.

"They're the same tone." Blake called out, chin tucked to his chest, typing away on his phone in the shade. "Doesn't explain why you've gone back to it though."

"It's Max's tone." Daniel was grinning, all teeth. "When my phone's like off silent anyway."

"We allow you on one extracurricular and you come back with a boyfriend." Michael teased throwing a tennis ball at him.

"hey!" Daniel cried out and shifted his hips, turning onto his side to avoid it. Micheal threw another and Daniel lifted the racquet to lob it away with a cheer.

The phone went off again and Daniel scrambled up to get it but was blocked by a new barrage from Michael. He ran off laughingly in the opposite direction to 'safety'.

"Nope." Micheal popped the p with his lips, a cheeky grin present. "We're not done yet, you can check your sexts after."

Daniel whined, pouting his lips and batting his eyes at his trainer.

"Save the pretty eyes for Max, now on mark let's go asshole."

"you can send him a pic of your legs after." Blake looked up quickly with a smirk before going back to his phone.

Daniel grumbled but prepared himself for work anyway. The quicker he got through this, the quicker he could see what Max sent him.

They'd been texting since the night of the beach party. They had spent the rest of the afternoon together, chatting away at a table mostly in their own world.

Max had introduced him to a few people on his team and a couple other drivers who had passed through. It was a great time getting to know Max the man outside of the paddock and around people he felt comfortable with. He was very funny, he made Daniel laugh breathlessly the whole afternoon. They bantered relentlessly, creating and extending jokes about everything.

That was two days ago, Max had escorted him back to the flat he and his team were renting and they exchanged numbers. Daniel kissed him at the door and ducked into the apartment quickly to hide his blush. Not the suavest move, but Max made his brain stop working.

Since then, they've been texting when Daniel wasn't getting his ass kicked by his best friend slash trainer. Max appreciated his training camp and he tried to avoid texting during the day knowing Daniel was busy and needed to focus.

They had dinner plans tonight, so realistically the texts could have been confirming their date or rain checking.

That thought stopped him suddenly and he missed an easy volley.

"Focus DR!" Micheal called, calmly sending over another ball. Daniel shook his head physically to dislodge the thought. He'd think of it all after.

They went on until he was gasping for breath, only stopping after Daniel declared a strike, demanded a union and then plopped himself bodily beside Blake who grimaced. He barely dodged the impending wet hug.

Daniel grasped for his phone, swiping away all the calendar notifications and social media messages to find the one he wanted. He was single minded, completely ignoring the freeze pop electrolyte drink that Michael chucked at him. It bounced off of his sweaty face.

He opened the text thread from Max;

Max V 🥵

Are we still on for 8?

Oops, sorry. Tell Michael not to be mean.

"Max says not to be mean to me Mikey, he's a world champ, you should listen to him." Daniel called out, grinning in delight. Micheal snorted a laugh. Daniel texted back

8 is still good for me. Mike's being evil as always. I swear he gets off on suffering😢

Daniel tore open the freeze pop with his teeth and sucked greedily at the cold drink. His phone went off again in his hands.

Max V 🥵

Poor thing. I'll have to take care of you then, I'll pick you up at 7:30.

Daniel tried to ignore the flutter in his chest at the thought of Max taking care of him.

Gonna show me a good time? 👀

Max V 🥵

Do you want to sleep over?

Daniel barely managed to keep from choking, the empty freeze pop plastic feel out of his mouth. He looked around swiftly and shifted in his seat, suddenly full of energy. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest now, a thrumming in his veins that wasn't there before.

He tilted his phone away from Blake's potential gaze, completely regretting sitting so close now. He bit his lip, unable to pinch his grin.

I'd love to.

[sandwhitches]

thinking about being osamu miya’s favorite regular rn…🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

technically, onigiri miya closes at 8 PM sharp, but osamu would rather die than tell you that. how could he? not when you shuffle in looking so pretty in your cute little pencil skirt and the button up you wore at the office job you just left for the day. so what if it’s 30 minutes past closing? he doesn’t care. the sight of you all frazzled and happy to see him has slowly become the highlight of his day.

“the usual?” he’ll ask, and you nod with an impressive amount of vigor for someone who has just clocked out of such a strenuous job. osamu will never tell you this, but he already starts on your order before you even come, too anxious to see you to start on his closing duties.

sometimes, if he’s lucky, you’ll tell him all about your day and he’ll nod with a hum, really only interested in listening to the sound of your voice. once he’s finished packaging your food, he feels a tug of disappointment at his heartstrings, knowing this the part where you say goodbye.

he wonders how many extra rice balls he has to slip in there before you get the point. maybe putting a happy face on the to-go bag was too much? perhaps he was too generous with the mayo when you offhandedly mentioned you liked a little bit extra of the condiment in your tuna mayo onigiri.

it’s become the topic of teasing discussion if atsumu is ever around to bare witness, his twin erupts into a fit of laughter once the door closes behind you, leaving osamu an agitated, flustered mess. “why dontcha just ask her for her number?”

it’s not that simple, is it? sure, you do come in every night, appearing to be thrilled to see him for the short time you’re together. and yes, he has noticed that you’ve purposefully complained a couple of times about your friends trying to set you up with someone. additionally, he’s positive he sees you checking your reflection in the camera of your phone each night before walking in.

“don’t worry about it,” osamu sneers at his brother, turning his back to continue mopping behind the counter. it’ll happen someday. eventually. right?

[tame-the-lion-writes]

I was reading your first reader x dog shifter and I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT but one thing made me think. The 141 DESPISES men and that's fine, understandable.... But what if reader also like girls? We bring a girl home and they just huff that they have to share space with a stranger but it turns out she's a date and it clicks after hearing weird sounds from the bedroom and they're LIVID. The next morning we're trying to have a normal day but they're all grumpy and side eyeing, like they're giving a silence punishment since they realized they can't trust no one fr

Mwah love your works

"Maybe it's just girl stuff."

"Gaz, how often do you see girls kiss each other on the mouth?"

"Just trying to be positive, Cap'n."

A few hours later and they're debating whether or not they should even hop in bed, cause they don't even wanna think about what happened on those sheets.

[valvewall]

Izuku's Clingy-ness

Izuku Midoriya x girlfriend/fem! Reader

word count: 643 (very short)

warning: clingy!boyfriend izuku, post-war arc, not-canon compliant (i tried, lord help me.), izuku missing his gf :(, someone get this man his gf back!!, sassy midoriya genes, possibly ooc for both kaminari and bakugo but oh well. NOT FULLY EDITED but it's like 4am... so...

a/n: I was reading some of @gglitch1dd 's dilf!izuku series, and i KNOWW I'm very late to the Izuku love but this fanfic idea is currently wrangling me like a bull... so... here! making this in-between 3 unfinished works and one series ideas!!! nice, author, nice.

beta read by my beautiful and unnerving sister.

Sometimes, It seemed unnerving how Izuku was so intensely obsessed with you. Izuku was just glad it wasn't in a bad way, despite how sometimes he would convince himself that he was such a bad person after the events of the Paranormal Liberation War. You were always there to squash those terrible thoughts that scattered and dug their way into his head, and convince him that what he had done was probably one of the best options left for Tomura Shigaraki.

He missed you today. You weren't in class the entirety of the school day, and he had gotten worried that you slept in; Until he saw your text message about having to suddenly go babysit your niece today due to an emergency involving the sitter not showing up. Everyone who even looked at Izuku's face could see it, how he looked like a kicked puppy who had just gotten every insult known thrown at him.

"Dude, you good? Did Y/N break up with you or something?" Kaminari had walked over, crouching down to rest his arms on Izuku's desk, long after class had ended. He had a slightly worried expression on his face, eyebrows furrowed, making Izuku feel slightly bad at making his friend worry about him. The green haired boy huffed, pouting as he stared down at the matching bracelets he had been fiddling with for most of class when he noticed Y/N's absence. Bakugo chimed in after Kaminari, abrasive as ever. Where did he even come from?

"Get a grip, Izuku. Your girlfriend is coming back tomorrow."

Izuku had at that moment, felt a little dumb. Oh. Oh! He had almost forgot, yeah you were coming back tomorrow. Wait... How did Bakugo know that? Right on cue, did Bakugo squash his thoughts.

"Y/N and I are friends too, calm down. Don't stare at me like that. You look like an offended goose." Bakugo sneered at him, his arms crossing over his chest. Kaminari looked over at Bakugo, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Woah! Dude, a little nicer maybe?"

Izuku rolled his eyes, giving his best friend an 'are you fucking kidding me' look. "You act worse when Kirishima is going to the bathroom, shut it." Izuku pouted and pointed at the spikey blond man in front of him.

Bakugo huffed and rolled his eyes, despite his hypocrisy in the situation. The blond was honestly so tired of Izuku moping around in class, and now outside too?

Izuku looked down at his phone, laying on the desk between his hands that kept fiddling with eachother. "Maybe I should call her."

Bakugo's eyebrow twitched. Maybe he should have bullied Izuku more. (not actually, but still.)

Kaminari was shocked at Izuku, no way Izuku was that clingy. "Yo! You should go and relax, go shopping with Todoroki and Bakugo! Todoroki has his dad's card for the day too! Do something instead of moping around all day! C'mon dude!" Maybe he wasn't being helpful, or maybe it was his excruciating single-ness.

Izuku groaned loudly in frustration, he just wanted his girlfriend dammit! Not to be basically kidnapped by his two friends to stop rotting over Y/N being gone for one day. "I don't wanna go out hanging out with everyone else, can't you guys just let me mope over my girlfriend being gone!?" He looked up at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair, hand clutching his hair.

"Not when you make it our problem! Get up! You're going shopping with Todoroki and Bakugo! Shoo! Out!" Kaminari exclaimed.

At the end of the day, he still couldn't help sending you a few 'I love you's and 'Facetime?'. He just missed you too much. When you came back, he was waiting on the UA steps, anxiously tapping his foot, and waiting for you like you always did.

"Day infinitely better."

want to support a struggling author? Leave a like and maybe a nice comment if you feel like it!

drops this and hides.

[bokutoko]

yumie's ring

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

it was a quiet evening when kita proposed.

his granny just left from dropping off some fresh strawberries from her little garden, knowing it was one of your favorites… well, more like she walked with kita as he, ever the gentleman, carried the crate of fruit over.

you didn’t notice her whisper something to her grandson, who only shook his head in response, earning him a gentle smack on the arm and a knowing look from yumie. she then looked to you, giving you a sweet smile and a soft “wonderful to see ya, dear,” before walking back down the porch steps to her little home across the street.

together, you washed the berries, occasionally holding out one to feed to each other. you soon noticed kita’s lips with the slightest red tint, a perfect color to match his pink cheeks. with a shy smile, you’d leaned in for a kiss, and kita’s heart uncharacteristically skipped a beat from the saccharine taste of strawberries on your tongue.

now there you were, the two of you in each other’s arms in the kitchen as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. why you wanted to slow dance in the kitchen with no music, kita had absolutely no idea. but, he humored you because of course he would.

“ya sure are silly,” kita teased, slowly swaying you back and forth to the dull droning of the cicadas outside.

“it’s nice to be in your arms, shin. sue me.” a hand absentmindedly carded through his hair, twirling the tufts near his nape.

and kita wasn’t exactly sure what came over him in that moment. taking in his surroundings, he realized everything he would ever need was right in front of him, staring him in the face with those pretty, sparkling eyes of yours.

there, in the dark kitchen, his gaze didn’t leave yours as he pulled out his granny’s ring that’d been burning a hole in his pocket for weeks now, whispering, “marry me.”

part one | part two

a/n: the recent influx of love on part one?? holy smokes y’all THANK YOU. this is kinda long but take a part two blurb as my token of appreciation <3

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ NAGUMO YOICHI ; — 18:04. heartbreaks are best served raw. cold. wet.

࿄ ! warnings - bruh none except juicy angst. exes to ?friends /. note i have been having nagumo brain rot and it’s taking over my life. pls help. pls enjoy. ofc there will be more. no proofreads ok byeee

“you still owe me, by the way.”

sighing, you throw your keys into the straw woven coaster on top of your shoe rack. of course he was strewn all over your couch, bare feet on your cushions, head resting on the arm rest, tv flashing in jest.

you roll your eyes. “sometimes, i have half a mind to tell my elderly neighbour that no, they’re not just seeing things when they keep telling me a big, lanky idiot keeps breaking into my home after i leave.”

nagumo gasps, hand grasping his chest through his loose shirt. “idiot? words hurt, y’know.”

you kick off your shoes, jacket and blazer - in that exact order - before wandering off into the kitchen, ignoring the dramatic cries emanating from your living room.

it’s not uncommon for nagumo to just show up in your house, uninvited, eating all your food and making a mess of all your things. you remember the first time it happened, almost a year ago. he had stumbled into your bedroom window, all bloodied and bruised and your reaction time was terrible to say the least, because while you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, his figure stepped into your peripheral and you threw the phone square at his already bruised jaw.

in apology, you had tidied him up and made him dinner… though now you wish you hadn’t shown him mercy back then, because he just kept. showing. up. you suppose he’s not just to blame. you’re ignoring the fact that you both hadn’t seen each other in over 7 years (after your messy exit of the JAA and an even more messy breakup) and now that he’s back in your life (back used in negative fashion) you just can’t seem to get rid of the him.

nor do you have the heart to tell him to get lost.

nagumo ceases his whining, yelling after you. “by the way, what’s for dinner? i saw some chicken in your fridge so…”

your eye twitches. “…so what?”

“so…i was thinking you might want to use that… to make dinner.”

you make a loud noise in disbelief, practically throwing the fridge door off of its hinges, “i’m not making you dinner?! gramps next door said he saw you come in 4 hours ago! and you didn’t think to come in and make dinner?!”

it’s quiet for a moment, but you hear the rustling of clothes and the movement of feet, so you turn to lean against the kitchen counter expectantly. the dark haired man peers his head round the corner, sheepish.

“y/n? are you mad at me?”

“no. i just think you’re stupid. oh, and i pretty sure you live to bother me.”

dark puppy eyes bore into yours as he steps into the vicinity. “the first part’s not true in the slightest but the second is pretty much on the nose. though, i’m not bothering you. you like that i’m here.”

“what’s this now?”

nagumo steps closer into your personal space, tattooed arms on either side of you as you look up and away from him.

“47 times. that’s how many times i’ve shown up here. in typical y/n fashion, you’ll complain and act like you’re annoyed, but i don’t think you’ve ever told me to go away.” nagumo ponders for a moment, finger on his chin. “now that i think about it, you haven’t. not once.”

you’re speechless. you’re not sure what to say and when you open your mouth, nothing wants to come out. truthfully, the man has read you like an open book, flicking through the pages languidly, hands bruising the spine. he’s smiling like it’s the truest thing he’s ever said - the only thing he’s been right about when it comes to how you feel.

pride is a very funny thing. if things were different, you’d grab his face and kiss him till he would shut up - well, that’s what you used to do… before, you know… you know. but this is humiliating, at least to you. even after all this time… you’ve let it get too far.

you huff, pushing his arm from beside you and you stand by a miscellaneous cupboard, turned away from nagumo, arms wrapped around yourself. “well, for starters, you’re wrong. forgive me for trying to be a good friend and helping someone out.”

“someone? that’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” the playful lilt stays lingering in his tone and it makes your heart simmer.

“… i think you should go, nagumo.”

silence sits between the two of you. nagumo looks at the back of your head. he sighs.

“if that’s what you want. see you around, y/n.”

he exits, quiet as never. he’s never quiet or silent when he lumbers around your home, sweeping and lingering. he’s probably already left your home in similar fashion. the fact makes you grab your own face and groan.

you don’t think you can be normal about him. maybe it’s for the best.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © MOOMINSUKI 2024. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[vykio]

“You are not subtle.”

Neil shifts his gaze from his palm to Andrew’s face. Andrew is standing at the door with two mugs of coffee, one in each hand, and Neil grins up wide at him.

“No,” he agrees, then makes space on the bed for Andrew. Andrew walks up and sets the mugs on the floor by the foot of his bed. He points at Neil, then at the mugs. Neil nods his acknowledgment and Andrew climbs into the bed. He takes advantage of still being upright to lean down and steal a kiss, which Neil is more than happy to return.

Andrew lies on his back after a minute and Neil lifts his hand up between them, an invitation. Andrew slides his fingers into his, then tucks their clasped hands against his stomach.

Neil is not someone who needs affection. They kiss and touch and exist near each other, and that is enough, but he has a fascination with Andrew’s hand. Yours, Neil had said once, when Andrew let him inspect his hands closely; steady, he’d said another time, pushing their palms together before tangling their fingers like this. Andrew isn’t the type to need affection either, but the serene smile this puts on Neil’s face sometimes satisfies him enough to oblige.

[treasuringizu]

“i love you. i love you. i love you.” izuku whispers.

it’s dark, the only source of light being the television in the background, the movie you were watching muted and long forgotten, and a candle flickering on the table, emitting a sweet grapevine scent that infiltrates the air and your noses.

you’re settled on his lap, legs wrapped around him and your chest right against his, so close that you could feel the beats of his heart like it’s your own. his arms are wrapped around your body, strong, squeezing like he would never let you leave even if you wanted to. adjusted to the darkness, you can see his soft, green eyes looking into yours, and you can feel yourself melt, physically into his arms, body and soul given all to him.

“i love you too, izu.” you smile, and you can feel his cheeks turn even hotter under your palms as you run your thumbs over his skin, poking the indents that form when he matches your smile.

he exhales a breath, “wow.”

“what?”

shaking his head, he removes his face from your hands and burrows into your neck. “i’m so happy.”

“aw, baby.” your hands move to his curls, they’re soft when you run your fingers through them. “why?”

“i’m here. with you. you make me so happy sometimes i just don’t know what to do with myself.” he admits, pressing his lips against your neck in a kiss. “i love you so much.”

he’s too good for you. his words make you swoon, and you can’t help but think how lucky you are to have him like this.

“you’re too sweet, izuku.” you nuzzle his hair. “i love you. more than you know.”

the candle continues to burn, and so does your love for each other.

[1650-1793-1941]

Aziraphale had always been able to feel when a place was loved. As an angel, love was very much in his remit. Often it was just a sense of warmth in a local coffee shop, or the infusion of countless weddings into the stone walls of a church keeping damp at bay. Tadfield had been a special case, Adam’s love for the place multiplying the feeling to almost unfathomable levels, but every close-knit village across the country hummed with a similar, albeit it far subtler, joy.

It was therefore not particularly strange to settle into the Bentley, reading himself for the drive to Edinburgh, and feel a wave of love from the vehicle. Crowley had loved the car for ninety years. That kind of attachment couldn’t possibly not leave a mark. Usually when Aziraphale was in the Bentley, he was sitting beside Crowley, whose terrible emotion processing skills worked hard to suppress the feelings, but now Aziraphale was alone he could tell the car was so clearly cherished. He couldn’t help but smile, running his hands over the leather of the steering wheel to reassure the car that he’d take good care of it, because it clearly mattered to Crowley so deeply.

It was thirty miles out of London that Aziraphale started to become aware that there was something slightly different about the love infused into the Bentley. Usually it went one way, a place was loved but it couldn’t really love back. The car, however, seemed almost fond of him. It played classical musical when Aziraphale asked it nicely, the horn honked merrily rather than with the aggression Crowley usually forced from it on the rare occasions he thought it worth using at all. The travel sweets and the new yellow detailing, the comfortable and warm leather seats, the safe driving speed – Aziraphale could feel the Bentley desperate to please him.

It was only after Crowley checked in through the radio that Aziraphale realised what was going on. It seemed mad to even think it, but it was the only logical answer. Crowley’s love, not just for the Bentley but for Aziraphale specifically, was laced into the fabric of the car, so strongly it was echoing back. He would never have believed it, but the same feeling he got from the car was threaded under Crowley’s words. He might have complained about the yellow paint and the travel sweets, but really he was checking in to make sure Aziraphale was alright. After millennia of existing together, Aziraphale had learnt to read between the lines. So when Crowley asked him to drive faster, he knew that didn’t mean put yourself in danger to get my car back to me quicker, it meant get yourself back to me as fast as possible, because I feel better when I know you’re safe. Aziraphale knew better than to point it out, but he also wasn’t going to protest – he loved a good caper, but he knew he’d also feel better when he was back at the bookshop. Back with Crowley.

[marvelnatswhore]

imagine step mommy wanda teaching you how to kiss..

step mommy wanda x fem reader

a little nsfw and making out

this is absolutely a porn trope

✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧

imagine wanda knocks on your door in the evening, coming in and sitting on the side of your bed where you're laying, telling you she saw your search history.

you'd freeze at the thought as your mind goes through every filthy thing you watched in the last week alone, all those late. lonely nights with your hand in your pants..

you feel her touch your thigh, "looking up how to kiss? Baby. If you didn't know why didn't you ask me? I always have time for you, darling."

"it's embarrassing." You muttered trying to avoid her eyes on you. you feel the mattress dip as wanda moves closer to you.

"it's not embarrassing, sweetheart. you're just so innocent, of course you don't know these things." Her hand cups your cheek tilting your head to look at her as she smooths her thumb over your cheek.

"I wouldn't be a good mommy if i didn't help you with these things right?"

you nod feeling you feel warm all of a sudden

"let mommy help you, baby."

wanda strokes your bottom lip with her thumb, slow strokes that make your head feel light as she leans in.

"just relax, sweetheart, mommy's going to show you."

wanda closes the space between your both, her soft lips press against yours and a whimper escapes you, quickly hushed as wanda pulls you closer, kissing you deeper, guiding her hand through your hair as her tongue slips into your mouth and you moan softly.

she kisses you deeper and slower, taking control, submerging her tongue in your mouth and swirling it against your own, only pulling away between breaths to whisper sweet comands to you.

"good girl baby"

"just like that-"

"use your tongue, honey"

it feels wrong but you can't help it and her lips are so soft and it makes something in you feel warm and fuzzy, especially between your legs, you try not to focus on it and wanda hums praisingly when you press yourself closer to her and her breasts brush your own.

when wanda finally pulls away you're almost panting for air, you want to keep kissing her, it feels so good and wanda chuckles, seeing it in your eyes.

"Good girl." wanda whispers, offering a soft peck to your lips "very good."

"thank you mommy." you mutter, feeling suddenly soft and agreeable

"of course, sweet." wanda whispers "mommy's always here to help"

the feeling between your legs is harder to ignore "mommy.. it feels weird."

wanda simply smiles and her hand rubs your thigh "it's perfectly normal to feel like that baby, you just like mommy's kisses, that's all."

"is it sticky down there?" she asks and you nod feeling your cheeks flushing.

"mommy can help with that too, baby."

[pupkashi]

we all know gojo satoru will do anything and everything he can to distract you from studying and getting things done because he wants you all to himself and you haven’t given him a kiss in hours (5 minutes) and he feels like he’s gonna die soon (he’s a little hungry) and he wants to spend his dying moments with you (he’s gonna go buy your favorite takeout)

you eventually cave when you reach a good stopping point, grateful that your lover has a meal ready for you because you’d forgotten to eat and he just can’t afford to have you die on him because he doesn’t know how he’d survive without you by his side

but what about gojo satoru who is surprisingly strict when you have an exam coming up and you’re doing everything in your power to procrastinate studying

“toru let’s watch that movie you wanted to watch!” you’d smile brightly, shoving aside your laptop and laying on his chest, “go watch your lectures instead and then I’ll think about it,” he’d reply, handing you your laptop once more, a smile on his face.

“you wanna go for a walk? i hear the weathers great right now” your attempt of escaping studying was quickly ruined by a clap of thunder and the sound of pouring rain. gojo only smiled as he pointed back to your study materials.

gojo satoru who knows exactly how to get you to study even when you don’t want to.

“if you finish at least half of what you wanted to do today, I’ll cook us some dinner and we can put on the show we’re watching together, deal?” his snowy hair tickled the tip of your nose as he leaned in a little closer to you. the smell of his cologne overpowering your senses as you closed your eyes and hummed in agreement, your lips meeting his softly.

satoru pulled away before you could even attempt at escalating the kiss, pressing quick kiss to your forehead and leaving you to do work. only interrupting to bring you water or snacks, telling you how great you were doing and how proud he was of you.

before you knew it satoru was telling you it was time for dinner and you’d done much more than the half you’d agreed on, smiling and gushing to your lover at how productive you were.

gojo satoru who always makes sure you have everything you need to study, buying you candles, highlighters and any other thing you might need to study (he bought you a tablet after you mentioned it in passing once, you did amazing that semester and he’s convinced it was the tablet)

he’ll always give you the extra push you need to go study and work hard, but he’s also there to tell you to take a break, to not stress out and enjoy a day off because you work so hard

he’s there to help you relax and assure you that even if you don’t study today, you have a couple more days left and you can get everything down in time. he’s there to hold you in his arms when you’re scared you did terrible on an exam, he’s there to kiss your tears away when you feel underprepared.

he’s there with sweets and your favorite show after you get home from an exam you feel you didn’t do well on. satoru is always making sure you know that you know you’ll be okay, that you’re still making him proud

gojo satoru who is always your #1 supporter, making sure you turned in every assignment and going out of his way to make sure you knew how proud he was of you, even when you didn’t wanna study, even when you failed a test, and especially when you graduate

[onboardsorasora]

Some more tennis au. This is helping me procrastinate editing the Adore You sequel 😅😅 sorry not sorry

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Part 3

Daniel walked off the pier onto the coarse sand, his shoes hanging off his fingers in a loose hold. Glasses shading happy, wide brown eyes, his grin ever present. He was enjoying this weekend to the fullest because tomorrow it was back to training camp, pain and reality.

The weekend has truly been epic; the race was wildly action packed (after Blake told him it would be boring pfff), he did the post race party at the Amber Lounge last night, spent the morning and early afternoon drinking on a boat in the middle of the Mediterranean and now he was about to join a party of happy, plastered Red Bull people at a beach club.

His shirt was open, tanned chest and abs on display and his trunks were short but hopefully not too indecent. He felt too good to really care. His entrance to the club was heralded by cheers and before long he was in the midst of the chaos.

Max took the stairs two by two, he’d been holed up on the rooftop with Christian and some of the management team. It was a great time but he wanted to spend some time, drink and let loose with his pit crew. They really were the stars of the weekend, he wouldn’t have won without them.

There were some drunken cheers at his appearance, he gave few high fives and patted some backs. But mainly everyone’s attention seemed to be at a far corner of the balcony. Using the bar counter to hoist himself up to see through the crowd, he saw a rowdy game of table tennis. He couldn’t tell exactly who was playing but the crowd were going crazy for them.

There was an excited cheer and then,

“I told you! High performance athlete! Kikiki ra!’

Max’s mouth went dry as Daniel emerged from the crowd, he stood on a chair and beat his bare chest with a fist before throwing back a double shot of something. The crowd egged him on.

Max could only stare at his broad shoulders…arms. He was fit as fuck and the chest hair was doing it for him. His happy trail framed by the V of his lower abs in his low slung (tight) shorts.

Daniel jumped off the chair and made his way through the crowd of people clapping him on the shoulder to lean heavily against the car, smiling widely at the bartender. He turned happy warm brown eyes onto Max and he could see when he recognized him

“Max! Hi, congrats man!” Daniel gushed, a blush forming high on his tanned cheeks. Max felt his lips pulling in an answering smile that he couldn’t control if he wanted to.

“Thank you” Max scratched the tip of his ear.

They continued to eye fuck stare at each other before Max rested his hand on top of Daniel’s that rested on the counter top.

“Do you wanna-”

“I was thinkin-.”

They grinned at each other.

[amethystpath-writes]

To Traitors

NOT A PR0MPT

******

"The general wants to send me to your homeland."

"For war?"

Villain hummed. "We knew it was coming."

"Of course." Hero shook her head and pushed a shirt further into the bucket of water. She bent it and twisted it and shoved it again. "How did she react when you told her 'no'?"

That was the thing; Villain didn't deny the general. No one denied the general.

Hero picked up on the silence. She always did. “Where does that leave us?”

A choice.

War?

Or her?

“You know this decision is not mine.”

"Sure, it is. I always wanted to travel- try camping."

Camping. Hero knew rejecting orders would be considered traitorous. She would rather be homeless and shunned than to standby while her homeland was being attacked.

"Hero..."

"Is that something you are not willing to do?" Her movements became rushed, like she was trying to maintain a calm, but the only way to do so was to move along with the emotions. She grabbed a shirt, dunked it, rung it, tossed it. Grab, dunk, ring. Grab, dunk, ring. They weren't even becoming clean, and the water needed changed. "My family is there. Where are they meant to go?"

"Even if I did tell the general no, I cannot stop an entire army from marching. The war will happen with or without me."

A sigh veiled the tension in the room. Villain's weight creaked beneath him as he stepped towards his lover. He took a linen shirt, wet and soaked, from her hands, and dropped it in the brown water. He found her hands next, then tugged her up slightly. She took the cue and stood, let herself be held.

"I love you," Villain said.

Hero didn't like crying. This is why Villain began rubbing her back as he pulled her into an embrace. She buried her face into his chest and sniffed once, twice...wiped a face full of tears, sniffed again...stopped, then began sobbing. No amount of squeezing could console the thought of her family being innocently slaughtered.

"You would hide them, wouldn't you? If you found them, you would save them?"

His grip loosened. He whispered, “Of course I would.” Did Hero know it might have been a lie? Even Villain wasn't sure what he would do when the time came that he marched onto her homeland.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Then I'm leaving now." She attempted to pull away from Villain's chest, but he held her firmly. Her muscles tensed beneath him, but Villain knew she knew better than to try again.

"Hero, be level-headed.

"I want to warn them," she whispered, so quietly that Villain only knew what she said because of how well he knew her. He knew her every thought before she even had it herself. It wasn't magic; just love.

"And you think you will outrun an entire army overnight?"

"I know I won't!" her tone had changed, and this time when she pulled away, she didn't stop until Villain let her go. "But who am I to not try at all? Who would I be, Villain?" Her face was red and swollen, glistening with sad, then angry tears.

For a moment, she stopped. She took a breath. then swallowed as if she needed to stop herself from asking what obviously came to her mind. Alas, she said it. "How long have you known?" Her voice cracked, and Villain could see she already knew the answer: longer than he should have known before telling her.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask for an apology." Her eyes refused to meet his. Villain was almost glad for it. He couldn't bear her anger, not when it was directed at him. "I asked how long you have known."

"Hero..."

"Clean your own damn clothes. I'll pay the Baker family back when I return."

"Pay them back? For w-" No. "You're not taking their horse." Hero was already scrounging around, first grabbing a raggedy sack, then stuffing one random item after another in. "Hero, stop. Hero-" She was going to take the neighbor's horse just to get caught up in the war herself. "Stop!"

She fell to her knees in the next moment. Broke down as if his voice took out the last support beam keeping the house together. hero cried, screamed, and wailed. "No. No. No. No. No," she repeated, and her voice broke time and time again as she screamed.

Tears sprung into Villain's eyes. What did he do?

"I'll send a bird. It will arrive before our army does, and when they receive it, they will know to leave."

Hero's head lifted, and her puffy eyes finally met Villain's glistening ones. "I will prepare beds. We have pelts; I can throw something together, and my brother can take-"

One blow after another, each and every passing moment. Just when Villain thought all might be well, the both of them realized there was no saving anyone. The war was an ambush, and Hero's brother would be expected to take a stand, to protect his own homeland.

"I won't-" Villain swallowed. "I won't harm your family. I will send the bird, and I will pray with every moment of travel that they receive it and leave. I will not draw my sword until I find their home empty, until I am sure they have left."

"You would be a traitor to your own kingdom."

"Better it this kingdom than you."

[egginround]

Enver Gortash x GN!Reader - Drabble - (sub?)Gortash POV - I HAVE MANY FEELINGS ABT HIS GAUNTLET!!! - CW: Suggestive, nearly choking?

Thinking about how cold the tips of Gortash's gauntlet must feel. Delicate gold snaking around the fingers, intricate designs instilling both fear and awe into those unlucky to face it - it's a marvel of artisan skill. How lovely of you to help him appreciate its every last bolt and curve.

The claws you wear scatter and bump across goosebumps as you skim across Gortash's chest. A shiver threatens to break across his skin as he sinks into the plush cushions beneath him. The cool metal you trace across his shoulders somehow cools the hearth in him, and stokes the flames all the same. You'd have to try better to break him though. He may have conceded temporary control, allowing you to sit straddled across his hips, but you won't know how worked up he is. Not yet.

He feels your other hand rest on his waist, deft fingers idly stroking the soft flesh peeking out the top of his waistband. It's almost tempting to sigh into the sensation. Dark hair dares to stick to his forehead as deep black eyes hang onto your every movement. A defiant tilt of his chin challenges you to press harder. It would be so easy to take back his rightful place on top. He has half a mind to reach out, to remind you it's through his grace you have even made it so far - but your hand surges up his side to knead his chest and suddenly, his thoughts seem just a little out of reach.

No, he knows better than to move right now. The sharp tips of the gauntlet are skitting ever so lightly across his collarbones, your thumb pressing gently up the column of his neck. Testing the waters. A brief flutter of his dark eyelashes is all he deigns to show you, yet you swear his fingers stutter as they press up and down your thighs.

He knows better than to concede a single sound or shaky sigh. Not when he can feel your heartbeat stammer against his, matching the shallow puffs of breath that hang in the air between you. Certainly not when his skin is grazed by the slight tremble in your razor-sharp fingertips - so pretty in his gilded gauntlet, so lovely wrapped around his waiting throat.

[walkingstackofbooks]

A drabble on Bajoran Time

Or: Why would a Bajoran hour be the same as an Earth one?

Featuring the classic trope, Julian Bashir's genetically enhanced awareness of time.

--

The most disorienting thing about living on Deep Space Nine was undoubtedly the time. Not for the reasons you might think - Julian was far from the only new Starfleet resident who had heard "26 hour clock" and assumed that would mean Bajor rotated 2 hours more slowly than Earth. But in fact, a day on Bajor was only 44 minutes - well, 44 minutes, 17 second, 592 milliseconds, to be precise - longer than an Earth day.

Which was good, undoubtedly. Julian had been worried about the physical toll that changing to a 26-hour day would have on the human residents of the station, and although a 44 minute difference wasn't nothing, he was certain the effects would have been greater had a Bajoran hour been the same as a Terran one.

But, of course, it wasn't. It made sense, really - in fact, it would be stranger if a Bajoran hour was the exact same as an hour on Earth. Though Julian couldn't help feel that 60 really was a better number of minutes (Because 39?* Really?! A number with only 4 factors?!), it would have been some coincidence indeed for both planets' history of subdividing time to happen upon the same number.

In some ways it was remarkable that the Bajoran system, splitting their days up into teneyru, loiru and kerriloiru**, was so similar to Earth's hours, minutes and seconds. Each teneyn comprised of 39 loiru, and each loira comprised of 52 kerriloiru. It worked out that a Bajoran kerriloira lasted for 1.689 Terran seconds - which for the average person, wasn't hugely noticeable.***

Julian still hadn't got used to 1300 hours being midday, or that his automatic translation of 1700 hours into 5pm was no longer useful, given that the Bajorans had no concept of AM and PM - and even if they did, it would now be an hour out. He would still talk about time using "half past" or "twenty-five to", before catching himself - and realising there was far less of the hour remaining than he had thought! He was, however, beginning to use the Bajoran equivalent more frequently, getting a secret thrill when he told a patient their appointment was at "thirteens fourteen" or "two-thirteens twelve".****

But these were things that most Federation officers were finding difficult - at least, it seemed to be one of the more common grumbles he overheard in Quark's, definitely among his fellow humans. Non-humans were more diverse in opinion; some found the adjustment easy, having already had to adapt to the Terran time that was the standard used on Starfleet ships, while others found it doubly hard to be learning yet another time system.

What Julian was finding most troublesome to deal with was his until-now fastidiously-accurate internal clock. He had developed it when he was 16, wanting to put his memory through a real test, and figuring that if he could remember precisely how long a second was, he would always know the time. While it hadn't been quite as simple as that - he had spent hours staring at the clock on his PADD - eventually tracking the time had become as automatic as breathing, a calculation that his brain kept permanently ticking in the background. During a bout of illness and extreme boredom during his 1st year at the Academy, he'd even fine-tuned it down to deciseconds, although even he hadn't managed to make it more precise than that.

Which was why he was constantly finding himself off-balance in his time-keeping. For 10 years, he hadn't had to think about what time it was, it had just been there, in his brain. And now, even with a Bajoran clock in front of him, or regular check-ins with the computer, Earth seconds continued to tick by in the back of his mind, an ever-present distraction from getting to grips with station time. Trying to learn the length of a Bajoran second was like listening to a piece of music that you didn't know was written in 5/4 - it felt jarring and off and as soon as he felt that he had gotten to grips with it, a few kerriloiru later and he'd lost it again.

Eventually it would become second-nature, Julian was sure. But he was impatient to get there. For the meanwhile, it meant spending what little free time he had in his quarters, staring at a Bajoran chronometer, and trying to ignore the small pangs of discomfort as the kerriloiru ticked over - 1.689, 1.689, 1.689...

*I've decided Bajorans use a Base-13 system simply because it's fun and they have a 26 hour day. 🤷‍♀️😅

**The words teneyn and loira come from this Bajoran dictionary. Kerriloira is a combination of loira and kerripate (a fraction of a tessipate, a measure of land). The only example of a Bajoran plural I could find was maktal > makteru on this wiki so that's what I went with 😅

*** 1 loira is equivalent to 1 minute and 27.828 seconds. 1 teneyn is equivalent to 57 minutes and 5.292 seconds.

**** Obviously, the logical way to divide a teneyn up is into 3 lots of 13 loiru. Although humans cling so tenaciously to "half-past" as a concept, that eventually station Bajorans do end up adopting it as meaning 19 minutes after the hour.

---

Thanks for sticking with me in this silly little maths worldbuilding :P I'm totally not going to go and write up my Bajoran counting system now, that doesn't sound like me at all... 😅😬 (Who am I kidding, sign me up to everything numbers and Star Trek and alien cultures)

[milbroom]

how I feel when I look at my ao3 screen and see no less than 20,000 fat fuck off words for the next chapter of clumsy that hasn’t even been put into understandable edited writing yet

Help.