#screw hue challenge

[entomycetic]

For the hardcore spire runners out there, I present:

(If you complete a spectRUN I hear you get a high five from Acht and a gold star sticker from Smollusk)

[dee-writes-anime]

Heroes Are People Too

FEATURING Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

SUMMARY You are sick and tired of people asking you and your boyfriend nosy questions without thinking about how they might affect you both.

CONTENT WARNINGS Bakugo being Bakugo, nosy reporters, protective Bakugo, fluff, angst (if you blink, you'll miss it)

AUTHORS NOTE I have had this one in the drafts for a while. I wasn't sure if I was going to post it because the reader is kinda cringe and I wasn't sure if people were going to like that, but screw it. Enjoy Bakugo being taken care of :)

The grand ballroom of the Hero Gala is alive with shimmering lights and the low hum of conversation, the glint of chandeliers reflecting off the crystal glasses and polished marble floors. The space is adorned in hues of gold and deep midnight blue, everything dripping with opulence—a fitting backdrop for the most prestigious heroes in the world, who stand at the center of attention tonight.

And among them, Katsuki Bakugo stands out like a flame in the night.

He's dressed sharply, his usual combat-ready expression softened slightly by the formal setting. His black tuxedo fits him perfectly, tailored to accentuate his broad shoulders and muscular frame. The faintest glimmer of his cufflinks catches the light, subtle, understated but undeniably expensive—like everything about this night. His wild blonde hair is as untamable as ever, though there’s something different about him tonight. His usual edge feels slightly smoothed over, replaced with a sense of calm that’s rare to see in him.

Beside him, you walk hand in hand, the both of you a striking pair. The gown you wear flows effortlessly with your movements, soft fabric catching the light, the color complimenting you perfectly. It’s simple but elegant, chosen with care, not to outshine but to match the evening’s grandeur—and to blend seamlessly into Katsuki’s world.

The cameras flash the moment you step onto the red carpet, photographers and reporters calling out Katsuki's name, shouting over one another in an attempt to grab his attention. As the number two pro hero, his presence here is one of the most highly anticipated of the evening, and his explosive personality ensures that wherever he goes, eyes will follow.

But tonight, they aren’t just interested in him.

The moment they catch sight of your joined hands, the interest shifts. You're used to it by now—being the civilian partner of a hero of Bakugo’s caliber comes with its own set of challenges. The constant spotlight, the way people want to pry into the intimate details of your relationship, as if the world has a right to dissect your love just because he's a public figure. But tonight, you’re determined not to let it get to you.

Katsuki, always protective, tightens his grip on your hand slightly, and you glance up to see that his usual scowl has deepened, crimson eyes flicking over the crowd with barely-contained irritation. He’s never been a fan of these events, much less the prying eyes that come with them.

As you near the entrance, one of the more persistent reporters pushes their way forward, microphone thrust towards Bakugo’s face.

“Katsuki! Over here! A quick question about your relationship!” the reporter calls, their voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd.

Bakugo’s jaw clenches, and you can almost feel the surge of irritation roll off him in waves. But he stops, turning slightly to face the reporter, his free hand stuffed in his pocket in an attempt to maintain some semblance of composure.

“We’ve heard rumors about how difficult it is for pro heroes to maintain relationships with civilians,” the reporter continues, the camera hovering dangerously close. “How do the two of you navigate such a high-profile relationship, especially with your demanding schedule, Bakugo? And does it ever get difficult, knowing your partner is constantly at risk?”

Your heart skips a beat at the invasive question, the air suddenly thick with expectation. The flash of cameras feels blinding, the weight of dozens of eyes pressing down on you. It’s uncomfortable, invasive. This isn’t the first time you’ve been asked about the ‘difficulties’ of dating a pro hero, but tonight, with all the attention on both of you, it feels sharper, more personal.

Katsuki stiffens beside you, his fingers twitching slightly in your grasp. There’s a part of you that expects him to snap—he’s never been good at holding his temper, especially when it comes to protecting the people he cares about. But instead, he surprises you.

His gaze shifts from the reporter to you, and there’s a flash of something soft in his eyes, something that no camera could ever capture. It’s a look reserved solely for you, and in that moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.

“The hell kinda question is that?” he growls, voice low, controlled, though you can hear the edge beneath it. He takes a small step forward, his broad frame effectively shielding you from the cameras. “My relationship isn’t anyone’s damn business. If we’re happy, we’re happy. Doesn’t matter what job either of us have.”

The reporter, undeterred, presses on. “But surely the danger involved in your line of work adds a layer of complication—”

“I said it’s not your business,” Bakugo cuts in, his voice firm, final. There’s a warning in his tone, the kind that sends a ripple through the crowd. The camera shutters click faster, capturing every second of his growing irritation, but they don’t dare push further.

For a moment, the tension hangs heavy in the air, and you can feel the weight of Bakugo’s protectiveness settle over you. It’s not just anger driving him—it’s the way he shields you, the way he refuses to let anyone, not even the media, pry into the sacred space you two have built.

Gently, you tug on his arm, offering him a soft, reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” you murmur under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

He glances down at you, the fire in his eyes flickering, softening, and after a moment, he nods, letting out a breath. But you aren't done, you won't be silent when there is so much you have to say in defense of your explosive hero.

You know how much he hates this part, how protective he is of your privacy, and how much he wants to shield you from moments like these. But before he can respond, before the situation escalates even more, you take a small step forward, meeting the reporter’s gaze with a calm, steady expression.

“How does anyone navigate a relationship?” you ask, your voice even, though it carries an edge of firmness. The reporter blinks, momentarily thrown off by your composed response.

“I understand that because we see heroes risk their lives for us every day, there’s a fascination with how they spend their time off the job and who they spend it with. It’s natural to be curious. But just because heroes are in the spotlight doesn’t mean that other people don’t face similar challenges. Think about police officers, firefighters, or even paramedics—they all have families, people they care about, relationships they maintain. Their jobs are dangerous too, yet they go home at the end of the day, just like heroes, and their personal lives aren’t under the same kind of scrutiny.”

You glance around, aware of how many eyes are on you, but you don’t falter. This is your truth, and you want it to be heard.

“The question we need to ask ourselves,” you continue, voice steady but carrying a weight that demands attention, “isn’t how heroes manage to maintain their relationships. It’s why we push so hard to pry into those relationships in the first place, when we see real-life examples all around us. Heroes deserve privacy, just like anyone else. They deserve to have moments that are just for them, with the people they love, without the rest of the world looking in.”

The crowd falls quiet, the reporter’s microphone lowering slightly as they process your words. You feel Bakugo shift beside you, his hand still wrapped around yours, and when you glance up at him, there’s a flicker of pride in his eyes, though his scowl remains firmly in place. He stays silent, letting your words settle over the room.

For a brief moment, the flashes of the cameras slow, and the weight of the attention feels less oppressive. Your answer, thoughtful and composed, seems to resonate with the crowd, the previous tension dissolving into something more respectful.

Without another word, Katsuki steers you away from the throng of reporters, leading you inside the grand hall.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifts again, though the weight of the earlier confrontation lingers. The music is softer, the conversations more hushed, but even here, you can feel the eyes on you—curious glances from the other guests, some of whom are undoubtedly wondering about the exchange they just witnessed.

Katsuki pulls you aside, finding a quiet corner near one of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. The view of the city stretches out beneath you, lights twinkling like stars against the dark sky. He turns to face you, and for a moment, you see the vulnerability he rarely shows anyone—the part of him that hates these events, that hates putting you in the spotlight just by association.

“You alright?” he asks, voice gruff but laced with concern.

You nod, your hand still in his. “Yeah. I’m fine.” You pause, giving him a playful nudge. “I’ve survived worse than a pushy reporter.”

His lips twitch into a smirk at that, but there’s still a tension in his shoulders, as if he’s holding back. “I hate when they ask that shit,” he mutters. “Like I’m not already doin’ everything I can to keep you safe.”

You squeeze his hand, pulling him a little closer. “I know you are,” you say softly. “And it doesn’t bother me. I’m with you because I want to be. I knew what I was getting into.”

His eyes search yours, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the gala falls away, leaving just the two of you standing in this quiet bubble. He’s always been fiercely protective of you, sometimes to a fault, but you love that about him. It’s part of what makes him who he is—the intensity, the passion, the way he loves with everything he has, even when he doesn’t have the words to express it.

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, glancing away for a brief second before meeting your gaze again, “just... tell me if it gets too much. I don’t want you dealin’ with this crap alone.”

“I’m not alone,” you remind him, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ve got you.”

His grip on your hand tightens, and for a moment, he lets out a breath, some of the tension finally releasing. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a silent gratitude that you’re here, standing by his side through all of it—through the chaos, the attention, the questions.

And in that moment, you know that no matter how many eyes are on you, how many questions are asked, or how many challenges you face as a civilian in a hero’s world, the two of you will navigate it together—side by side, hand in hand, with Katsuki always at your back, ready to face whatever comes next.

[yayll]

~ a little something about Dazai surprising you on your day off ~

Dazai's not by any means an early riser... That is unless he gets to see you that day.

It's 8 AM and he's tapping his fingers against his pant leg lightly, but he's actually really anxious and impatient. He’s waiting for you to open the front door and flash him that life changing smile of yours he’s been coveting for all week. Today’s your day off and he's decided to come over and spend the day with you so he can cherish every single moment, totally not because he’s slacking off work and wants to do the only other thing he does with his life other than avoid his responsibilities: Be the bane of your existence. You also have a nasty little habit of being a workaholic and he's here to break that once and for all. He's completely spaced out now, lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed in thought when suddenly—

You finally open the door. His angel, his everything. He immediately switches his whole demeanor, eyes twinkling as he scans your figure. You’re still in pajamas, and your hair looks messy. You look absolutely delectable for someone who just woke up to 3 missed calls and 10 texts. Dazai smirks as he leans in, wiggling his brows in an exaggerated manner.

"Well look who’s finally awake! What a sleepy little thing you are. Makes me jealous of that stupid bed of yours… Did you get my texts? Come here."

He looms over you in the middle of the doorway, kissing you softly, tenderly and hungrily.

You blink, and before you can catch your bearings you’re interrupted by the softness of his eager lips. If your mouth opens, he’s pouncing. After a few moments of uninterrupted bliss, you pull back, eyes still drowsy and breathing a bit shallow. You yawn, running your fingers through your bedhead.

“Sorry. I, um… was still asleep until now. I was trying to sleep in-”

He gasps, and tilts his head, as if baffled by this.

“Now why would you do that when we have plans today?”

“... We don’t, though?”

Dazai laughs, dismissing your rightful confusion. He knows you guys never discussed plans, he just doesn't care. He lightly pinches your nose in between his fingers.

“We do! It’s why I let you sleep in for a few extra hours before coming over.”

You lazily swat at him, crinkling your nose. He’s swooning! Dazai feels a jolt of electricity through his body upon seeing the way you respond to his doting. Making you flustered is his favorite entertainment, besides suicide of course.

“But it’s 8 AM.”

“Exactly! That’s like half the day."

"... How long have you been up for?”

He rolls his eyes affectionately as he buffs his knuckles on his tan coat, replying with a nonchalant hum.

“Hmm, not important— What’s for breakfast?”

He lets himself into your apartment and you sigh into a defeated smile that somehow still holds affection for this ridiculous man. You follow him as he strides to the kitchen and fold your arms across your chest.

“You know, I’m kinda grumpy right now. It’s too early, Osamu. I need my sleep."

“And might I say you look absolutely stunning when you’re grumpy? How ever did I get this lucky…”

“Keep it up and I’ll get even worse, you goofball.”

Dazai smiles, it’s sly and dangerous. A challenge, he hears? He pretends to think for a moment, his finger placed on his lips as if really contemplating something. He’s just picturing what you’d look like yelling at him. Heavenly, of course. He flashes you a tender smile as if you just said the most romantic thing and curls his arm around your waist, whispering.

“Ooh, then I can’t wait to see worse.~”

You roll your eyes, unable to help the pink hue spreading over your face. Maybe you're still half asleep, maybe you’re just hopelessly in love with him. Either way you’re screwed. You whine with a hint of annoyance.

“Osamuuuu…”

Oh how he loves when you say his name like that. Maybe it’s time for you two to skip breakfast, he already does anyway, but he knows you actually need nutrients to function. He replies in a singsong voice.

“Yeeesss?”

“I’m making pancakes and you are going to sit down and wait.”

You point at the kitchen counter trying to be stern, and of course, failing miserably.

He looks back at the stool and then back at you. He leans within inches of your face, his nose poking yours. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly and winks.

“No can do, cutie~”

You two spend the morning making breakfast, or at least trying to. YOU are trying to, anyway. Everytime you go to gather ingredients, he’s already handing them to you. When your back is turned to him, you feel his arms snaking around you as you flip pancakes unevenly due to the distracting trail of kisses he's leaving down your neck. You secretly smile to yourself whenever you’re not feigning irritation, you know he loves the banter… Why not indulge the poor man?

You serve two plates and sit down, along with two mugs of coffee. Dazai isn’t allowed to have caffeine around you, but once again, you took pity on him today for some reason… or is it his mystifying persuasion manipulation at play here? He takes a sip of his mug and a satisfying ‘Ahh’ releases soon after. He flickers his eyes towards you as you're about to sip yours as well, and it’s like the world stops. His pupils dilate and he watches intently as the rim reaches your lips, resting his chin on his palm as he leans lazily over the counter. He’s like a dog watching its owner adoringly. During his trance-like state, he thinks about how if you lived together this would be his every day routine. He could get used to watching you drink coffee and eat food. You'd wake up next to each other and hold hands as you watch the sun rise. He would tell you how breathtaking you look with bedhead and make you late for work after failing to keep his hands to himself. Maybe then you wouldn't think he's such an impenetrable wall of secrets. He wonders if there's a future where all of that happens... He snaps out of it, and murmurs.

“Can I have a taste?”

You perk up and look over, tilting your head to the side, amused.

“What, the coffee? You have your own.”

He’s so focused now, staring at your full lips, thinking of a proper answer. He wants to tell you that he's never had intimate moments like these with anyone else and he doesn’t know how long it’ll last before his luck with you runs out, that he’s afraid you’ll see right through his one dimensional facade and leave him for good. That you won’t follow him to his untimely demise should he ever fall, so he has to capture every second of it so he can keep you in his mind forever. He has to lock you up in his heart and throw away the key, otherwise becoming a man of virtue loses all its meaning.

Instead, he opts for the less complicated route, the corners of his lips curling up into a coy smile as he places a gentle hand on your thigh.

“No, your lips, dummy. I want to taste the coffee off of your lips.”

There are no words for the audacity of Osamu Dazai and the feelings thrashing inside you when he says things like that. You smile bashfully and look away, unable to accept his shameless flirting.

“You’re so weird, Osamu…”

“Mm, I'm so yours. No takesies backsies.~"

You slowly meet his gaze, his watchful eyes that ooze devotion practically holding yours hostage… God, you are so beautiful to him. Before you can even register it, Dazai scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the living room, laying you down on the soft couch. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips. As soon as you show him the look of love that gives him the consent he’s looking for, he doesn’t think twice about it. He grabs your chin and pulls you into a messy kiss. He kisses you rough, his tongue almost immediately sliding into your mouth as he moans into you. His moans turn into whimpers, like he's been starved of touch for far too long and you're satiating the hunger. He needs to taste the coffee you just drank, and he wants you to know exactly how much he's been aching for this moment. For your much needed day off. For you.

He keeps his hand at your chin, pressing you down deeper into the couch with his hips grinding against yours as he tastes the acidity of the coffee along with the honey you sweetened it with.

Finally, when you literally cannot breathe, you pull away with your dazed and blissed out expression, all red in the face just like he loves. You mumble in between pants.

“Wait— So... What exactly was the plan for today?”

He looks up from running his tongue along your jawline and flashes you that infamously deceptive smile he perpetually keeps on his face, tapping his index finger on your cheek. His voice comes out in a breathy whisper.

“Breakfast.”

“.. But we already had breakfast.”

He sighs deeply and his finger ghosts its way from your cheek down to the waistband of your pajama bottoms as he needily mumbles in your ear.

“Still hungry.. I’m a growing boy, you know.~”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head.

"You're going to tire me, Osamu.. Work wears me out enough as is-"

He wiggles a finger at you, face full of sickening desire as he carefully lowers his head down by your stomach, resting his cheek on your soft flesh. He murmurs in that soft pleading way that drives you insane when he combos it with his reverent touch.

"Listen to me, please. No more work talk... No more stressing out your pretty self, okay? I haaaaate demanding jobs. It only takes you away from me."

You look down and simply nod, your eyes trained on the way he looks at you from under his lashes and the soft brown hair that frames his face. Your heart races with anticipation as a smile slowly creeps up onto your lips. You don't need words for what comes next.

For the rest of the day, he makes sure you have the best time off, it's the least he can do as your incredibly attentive and not selfish at all boyfriend! A day where you can shut out all thoughts of work... along with literally anything else that doesn't relate to him.

Unfortunately for you, there is no resting involved on said day. Fortunately for Dazai, you look so cute as you writhe under him for hours on end. That'll get it through your pretty little skull not to work so much.

[arafilez]

SUMMER KISSES ㅤㅤㅤ☆ ㅤ —﹙ H.JS ﹚

WHEN ㅤ,ㅤ joshua coming home is a pleasant surprise ! check out amazing @flurrys-creativity for another surfer shua au

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( fem!reader ) 𓂃 ㅤ fluff surfer au ㅤ drabbleㅤ warnings kissing ㅤ⋆ ( 632 wc ) ㅤ❟❟ㅤ library ㅤ svt shelfㅤ navi

“Hey Red,” the voice reaches your ear like a fresh wave of salt air and summer hues. A smile tugs on your lips as you turn on your heels, look at him, and say, “Joshua Hong, are you finally back?”

His slight laugh hits you with nostalgia, hot summer days and the very infamous rivalry you two had. Even your nickname “Red” comes from there, you had experimentally dyed your hair “anime” red and let’s just say the results weren’t great, not because of the colour, but because your hair got spiked for the wrong material usage.

Joshua had a good laugh with it for two whole weeks.

History cannot begin to define the rivalry you two had on your surfboards. Who could get higher waves? Who could do more tricks? In addition, so many more bickering right up the sunny days of California. The gentle push and pull, silent tension, longing in each other’s eyes only heightened your spirits more.

“Seoul became too boring and you decided to come back?” you ask, a tinge of hesitance in your voice knowing the answer was never a “yes.” It was always a firm; resounding “no” like it has been forever. He is here for a vacation but looking at his black, tousled hair, surfing suit and the blue board under his arms you could feel the summer air of 2010 come back.

“For now, yes,” his awful smirk resurfaces at the shock on your face as you try to make sense of the situation. Did he just indirectly say yes?

A jolt reverberates through your spine as you feel his fingertips touch yours and you look up at the brown orbs and pretty smile you had dreamed of every day. Taunting air-kisses, playful nudges and unspoken feelings.

“What’s it like coming back to the sea?” your voice drops down to a whisper, eyes burning into his under your lashes and slow breaths heaving through the sea-air.

“Like coming home to you,” he replies with an easy smile as his head dips down slightly and your breath hitches. Sunny days, teenage crushes, longing eyes and a touch of heaven. You look at the sun-kissed boy, his messy and damp hair and you remember the day you felt screwed because all cliché has come down on you.

The day you realised you loved him. His laugh, the way his nose crinkles after every mischief, his free attitude and just him made you overwhelmed. The day you thought you teenage self was stupid. The day you didn’t find his presence annoying any more. It sprints in your head like a series of events.

When your lips meet with his in the lining of sea and the shore and the cold water touches your feet, lightly nudging on as a witness of you two, you feel nothing short of fireworks in your body. Your lips move in an electric haze, longing and desperation in the air you run your hands through his hair, his fingers slip down your waist to the bare skin and his touch, cold, to the contrast of the warm hue that has spread in your body.

When you part, his eyes sparkle with mischief and your purse your lips ready for anything the boy wants to give you. Madness, fury, love. “Still think you’re the best surfer around here?” his voice is hoarse, drunk in your love, no challenge under that tone but it makes you grin anyway.

“Guess you will have to find out, Mr. Hong,” you giggle pecking his lips and running off to the water as he runs behind you with the breeze hitting his face. When your laugh reaches his ears, he knows not one single word of that sentence was any less than the truth. You are his home.

ARA'S NOTES ㅤ,ㅤ omgomgomg this has been in my drafts for so long but finally it's out. do not forget to check out @flurrys-creativity 's ruthlessness because it's awesome !

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( TAGLIST ) ㅤ @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @haneagerr @aaa-sia @yeosayang 𓂃ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[tyinghershoe]

This with bakugo except yall aren't dating and he has a lil crush

I died laughing reading this. I couldn’t NOT write this out.

Bakugo finds out that you’re telling people he’s your babies father.

Above all, Bakugo is flustered!  

Sure, the first shock arose a hint of anger and embarrassment - as expected when your crush is telling people all sorts of things - but afterward, there was an underlying feeling of giddiness, a type of glow as he thought about how “holy shit, y/n talks about me? I'm on their mind?” 

So, it’s safe to say that he isn’t ENTIRELY bothered, but he is confused. You talk here and there sure, being a part of the same friend group does that, but there was never and inclination that feelings were reciprocated, nor has there ever been a moment that could lead to, well, the current gossip you're spreading around now (He doesn’t want to this too much about this aspect though). 

Now here he is, sitting down in the common area waiting for you to walk right in (you come in every day at exactly 5:28 to watch a show with Mina! Not that he memorized that or anything) so he can hopefully get an answer out of you. 

As expected, there you are. Trotting down to sit on the couch while holding on to your favorite snack, you brought the smaller bag this time, which means you won't be staying down here for long. Actually, you won't be staying here at all, as Bakugo stands up the moment you two make eye contact. 

“Y/n, we need to talk,” he says, choosing to ignore the slight shake of his voice. The confused look on your face is all he needs to know, as he does his best to keep a calm attitude. Stay cool, Bakugo! The last thing he wants is for you to think that you’re just as much of a nuisance as his other friends.  

“Sure.” Confused as you are, you still walk towards him as he strides slightly away from the couches and into a more private area. This is for his sake only, as you seem unaffected by his cryptic commands.  

An urge to stay calm sits in the back of his head, and he turns to stare into your eyes. 

“Hey.”  

“...hey?” 

FUCK! He thinks - that wasn’t what he planned at all! “Was that too casual? Should I just be straight up? She probably doesn’t even like me, screw it.” 

“Why are you telling people in your baby’s father?” The twitch of his eye goes unnoticed, and only now does he realize that the situation is as stupid as it seems. There's an echo in the hall, adding amplification to the tension. 

You however look at him nonchalantly and shrug your shoulders a bit. 

“I don’t know. Bored as hell.” 

That’s all that comes out of your mouth, and for a split-second Bakugo thinks that maybe you really are a nuisance, or maybe Denki accidentally fried your head, only that can explain this reasoning. 

“That’s it? You’re telling people that because you’re bored?” He gasps as if that explanation isn’t good enough (it really isn’t), but you are undoubtedly you - so the chuckle that escaped your lips is one of obvious reasoning. 

“I mean what am I supposed to do?” It’s as simple as that, really. It comes off as almost factual: the sky is blue, the grass is green, Bakugo is the father to your baby.  

“Study, train, use a different dude for your damned rumors.” His voice is laced with grit, but the faint hue of pink that is laced onto his ears and cheeks is noticed by you.  

“Like you’d let that happen!” You challenge. 

 His voice hitches for a second. He wants to scream at you, say that “Obviously I wouldn’t! That bastard you’d pick wouldn’t even compare to me! Have fun having an ugly baby with whoever comes next!” but all that comes out is a simple scoff, “As if.” 

You just smile, and feign innocence to the fact that you know he’s jealous. He sighs and looks at his shoes for a minute, grumbling something softly. 

“At least let me take you out first.” the words are so faint you swear you’re hallucinating. But the shifting of his body lets you know it isn’t a joke.  

“Really?” A smile is etched onto your face, and that “unbothered” attitude of yours quickly folds, showing your true excitement. 

“Yes really!” he begins abrasively, “If you’re gonna be spewing some of your weirdo stuff, then at least let me go out with you for real. The last thing I want is some more rumors.” The excuse is aggressive and simplified, but it’s good enough for the both of yall.  

A nod of your head is all he needs for approval, and finally, he can breathe. 

“Tomorrow?” You ask softly, as it is now your turn to act coy. 

Theres a hum of approval, and he turns to leave – which is for the best, there’s only so much giddiness two lovers can take. 

“Tomorrow.” 

He walks away. 

“I’m not retracting what I told everyone earlier!” the halls echo, but it’s now a reminder of the turning chapter. 

Check out my masterlist here!

[viburnt]

First kiss || MHA headcanons

Characters: Iida Tenya, Shigaraki Tomura, Kaminari Denki, Mina Ashido

Trigger warning: Self-esteem issues on Shigaraki's part.

Iida Tenya

• Iida is just too much of a proper and decent guy to initiate a kiss, even if his lips are itching to have a taste of yours. He thinks, thinks, thinks, and thinks... but no matter how much his brain tries, Tenya simply can't figure the right way to approach something like that.

• He wishes his brother could give him advice, but since he is not there for him anymore, he guesses his friends could help him out. Izuku suggests to watch a romantic movie and copy what they do there (the dork), while Ochako tells him to simply invite you for a date and let things be. Shōto outright says Iida should ask for one.

• Iida takes you to a little movie date, carefully picking one that would give him the right mood to make a move. Your head rests on his shoulder while his arm is wrapped around you, and when the moment comes... soda. Iida accidentally spills his soda over your clothes.

• He feels so dumb and clumsy, apologizing over and over as the people around shush him quiet. You go to the bathroom to clean yourself and he follows suit. Iida is slowly entering into a manic episode, blaming himself as if it was the end of the world.

• When you come out, he just looks at you ashamed. You assure him there was no problem, that it was an accident but Iida doesn't listen and stammers his thoughts out (including how he just wanted to kiss you).

• You blink once, twice, and thrice, asking him to repeat his words as he covers his mouth. It is then that Iida reluctantly confesses he'd asked his friends for help, but that he had screwed his plan up.

• The smile on your lips calms down Iida, and you tell him he should've just asked (props to Shōto! He was right for once). Tenya's cheeks turn into a deep hue of red, splashing his ears and neck too; you step closer, hold his hand and tell him to go with the flow.

• His first kiss is brief, chaste and sweet; befitting of Iida. You're not surprised of the softness of his lips, and while you wanted to continue, the kiss comes to an end soon to avoid overwhelming him. The way his smile trembles after it is simply adorable, his hands doing robotic movements in nervousness; you take his hand and go back to the movie.

"I'm still sorry for spilling my drink over you. Please, let me send it to the cleaners." Iida offered, holding your hand as the two exited the cinema. "There's no need, really! I'l just wash it later." You declined, smiling at him with enamored eyes. "Then I'll make sure to buy you another shirt."

Giggling, you shook your head. "Iida Tenya, stop that. There's no harm done, plus, I think there are more things to care about than a soda stain," you winked. Iida looked at you a little puzzled, just to then realize what you were talking about. "Oh..."

"How about a second kiss?"

Shigaraki Tomura

• He is very self aware of his body and quirk, often thinking of himself lowly even when you reasure him there's nothing about him you wouldn't like. Tomura frequently shies away from your touch, limiting his interactions with you to verbal affection (the only moments where he allows you to be physically close is when there's a barrier like clothes, but even then he is very reluctant).

• Shigaraki fears that you could find him gross and allows his thoughts to cloud his mind, but you take it as a challenge to gradually wreck the walls he's built around him. He is your boyfriend after all, and you want to share all kind of things with him.

• Tomura's releasing his nerd rage over the microphone of his headset when you have the brilliant idea of kissing him for the first time. The man's sitting on the floor while you sit on the edge of his bed, your thighs around his head as the screen of the T.V turns black: Game over, retry? He groans, tossing the controller nearby as he turns off the console in frustration.

• You tell him you know what could make him feel better, patting his head with mischief; he looks at you and rolls his eyes, listening closely whatsoever. When the word kiss leaves your mouth, he sees himself out of the room; you don't take offense of it considering it wasn't the first time a reaction like that happened (bear with him, his heart just can't). Tomura returns a minute later with the most flustered face you've ever seen.

• He asks if you're for real, and you nod; he asks again, and you continue nodding. Before he tries to ask for a third time, you stop him and explain that you do want to kiss him. Tomura simply can't grasp the idea but he guesses he could try. You ask him to close his eyes and let you work.

• The kiss is tender, you can feel him tense and gradually relax as time passes. You caress his cheeks, play with his hair and when he least expects it, you finish. Shigaraki is speechless and refuses to even look at you for a couple moments, but he asks if you can do it again.

"You know you are a freak for even liking me, right?" He snarks, resting his head on your lap many kisses later. You just laugh, brushing the mess you made on his hair while making out, "Am I now?" Tomura looks away flustered and then returns his gaze to you. "No... But I still think you're weird for kissing me that much." Raising a brow, you clean some lipstick marks off him, "I'm not the one losing videogame matches to get kisses"

Kaminari Denki

• To say Kaminari is a bundle of energy would be an understatement. He is touchy, expressive, and often likes to hang out on your personal space; it's his form of showing how much he likes you, and that includes "joking" about kissing you (he is not joking in any way, he just panics and disguises his words as playful banter).

• Denki is just scared that he might not be a good kisser, which is why he stops himself from being serious about his words. He wants his first kiss with you to be special, something nice that you remember with joy not embarrassment. Sero just tells him that he should relax and let things flow, otherwise the chances of really ridiculing himself get higher.

• It is during a date to the game arcade that Kaminari decides to finally let things happen. He is hitting all the high scores in the machines to earn a decent prize for you at the shop (which considering how exorbitant the amount of tickets are needed for a simple candy, it's an achievement), winning some time to mentally prepare for what's bound to happen.

• You are having a blast, laughing and having fun to your heart's content when Kaminari suggests taking pictures in a nearby photo booth (he just wanted to be in private with you). He pulls you close to him, looking at the camera lens and throwing silly faces and poses; Denki looks at you while your attention is on the screen and places his hand on your cheek. The photos forgotten as you look at each other, heart's beating in unison.

• The kiss is clumsy, his lips practically crashing against yours as he basks on the softness of yours; you can feel a slight zap on your lips too. The moment reminds you of how sometimes puppies make a mess when they are offered food, scattering it everywhere in a desperate attempt to take everything they can. You don't mind at all.

• It's effervescent, natural, genuine, all the words that describe Kaminari to perfection. You giggle a bit, making Kaminari worry, but after you assure him everything is more than fine, he continues. The moment is so real to you two that even Denki starts smiling and chuckling against your lips.

• Yes, it may not be the perfect kiss to others, but it is to you and him (and the people outside the booth that had to awkwardly wait while you two finished). Oh, and you have it on pictures too!

"Ah, look at this one! We look so dumb, haha," you laugh, sharing the photo strip with Denki. He snorts and cackles at the picture, placing it in his wallet. "We should really make an album of all our kisses", he suggests, watching you nod in agreement. "Sounds like a great idea, not gonna lie. Just don't keep me waiting for the next kiss, I was starting to worry there was something wrong with me!" You chirp, teasing the blond; his cheeks just flush in response, "Sorry, I just didn't want to screw up".

Tag list: @doumadono @trickster-kat @dabislittlemouse @angelshimaa @shonen-brainrot @imaginationmess @shionancientsblog

[peachyloveswriting]

Knives just flirting with his S/O who head over heals for him?

I honestly wasn't going to answer this because it seriously doesn't fit his character to me but the more challenges the better so I'm trying this out for size. I got a bit away from myself here so it's been a very long story. I don't even think I actually did your request right. Look out for misspellings.

What a strange way to flirt --- Millions Knives

SUMMARY: Knives and reader dins themselves in a strange predicament after Knives begins to feel something for them.

Hot seething pain shoots through your arm as you cry out in pain, scrambling backwards pressing your back firmly against a wall you cry out.

"Leave me alone!"

Towering over you, your attacker grins devilishly, the spike in his hand raises high above his head, ready to strike.

"No can do sweetheart!"

Pulling your feet beneath you, you dive forward and roll onto your good shoulder whimpering in pain. Behind you, he slams the spike down where you just were, cracking the floor. Looking back in terror, you swallow harshly and scramble to your feet, rushing to the door.

"Knives!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that he'll hear you soon. The door flies open as you dive through it, on the other side stands Knives, his arms unfolding to catch you as you tumble. In his grasp you stand up fast, twisting to look back in fear, body shaking uncontrollably.

"He's coming!" You yell.

Looking up at the doors, Knives watches your attacker emerge. His face scrunches up in anger as he pieces together the situation, his grip on your side becomes firm, tugging you closer. "I'll handle this."

The metal appendages extend from all around you, heading straight for the man emerging before you. Knives pushes you behind himself, blocking you from the spray of blood that comes after.

"Are you hurt?" He turns around to check you over, his eyes becoming intense as he notices the apparent spike sticking out of your arm.

"He got me while I was backed against a wall, I managed to jump out the way before he killed me but I still got hurt." Your hand ghosts over the stream of blood that spills down your arm, the warmth spreading across your skin. You hiss quietly, face scrunching up in pain.

"Let me... I'll take you to Con'rad. He'll take care of you." Softly scooping you up again his chest he strides down into the corridor towards the lab.

Shouldering the door open, Knives calls out to Con'rad. "My flower has been injured." Your brows furrow, you look up at him. Flower?

Con'rad scoffs. "Your flower?" Peeking his head around the corner his eyes widen, seeing you bleeding in Knives arms he jumps up into action. Motioning for Knives to sit you on the counter, Con'rad begins digging around cabinets to find supplies. "Gosh, what happened?" He asks.

"They were attacked..." Knives replies plainly.

As Knives sets you down, he tenderly grabs your hand to lift the arm and inspect it. You can only stare at him intensely in wonder, the thing he has referred to you as floods your mind, it feels like the next best thing to distract yourself from the pain.

"Flower?" His icy blue eyes meet yours. "Did you call me Flower?"

For a moment you can almost see a red hue creeping up his face, he silently looks away, Con'rad coming up to your side at the perfect moment for him to avoid the topic. His hand moves from yours as Con'rad grabs it to reach the spike, he looks at it closely before he lets your hand rest back in your lap, and he grabs the base of it pulling it from your akin with one sharp tug.

The pain fogs your mind, you call out, screaming in pain. Eyes screwed shut you clap your other hand over the wound, very clearly underneath your palm can you feel the indention of missing skin, it makes you hiss sharply through clenched teeth.

"Calm down!" A firm hand grasps your arm, another hand pulls yours away from the injury, going with it is the feeling of fresh blood. Sobs fall from your lips and you strain against the touch, flinching away from Con'rad.

Knives feels his gut twist indescribably hearing you sob hysterically, seeing the blood pouring from your arm makes his chest squeeze in pain. Normally blood wouldn't bother him, today seems different though.

A cool rag is pressed against your arm as you throw your head back in pain. "Hold this against their arm." He motions for Knives to step over.

Stepping closer, Knives stretches his hand over the rag holding it in place. Letting go, Con'rad moves over, grabbing the alcohol disinfectant. You open your eyes to observe Knives looking you over with worry, even with as hard as he's pressing down on the rag he's still trying to be gentle. Knives doesn't want you to be in pain because of him.

You glance over at Con'rad, he stands on the other side of a sink, an alcohol disinfectant in his hands as he pours it onto a cotton ball. Just seeing the bottle you know how painful this is going to be, you tense at the thought of it, your gut twisting in anticipation. The bottle is set back on the counter and Con'rad moves back over to grab your arm from Knives. Just before he reaches you, Knives pulls his hand out the way. Suddenly you reach out grabbing Knives wrist to keep him from moving far, his brows knit tightly together as he looks at you.

He feels like he should be disgusted by your touch, like he should punish you for even reaching out and grabbing him, but he can't seem to make the words form on his lips. He doesn't pull away while Con'rad reaches out to dab the wound. The alcohol burns deep, searing your skin as if it were on fire. You clench your eyes shut and tighten your grip on Knives wrist, the pain is so unbearable that you can't stop yourself from crying out again.

Your frustration and innate hunger for comfort burn through Knives' mind, tugging at his body. Your heart, body, and mind, he wants to connect. To soothe your fraying nerves and pull you close.

He moves your hand from his, dropping the rag to intertwine your fingers together, even though there's a break in touch the surface emotion connection does not break. He finds himself stepping closer to you, his other hand moving to the back of your neck while he presses his forehead against yours.

You grip his hand like a vice, tears welling up in your eyes again, threatening to spill if you open them. Slowly, like soft waves rolling up on a beach, cold waves move throughout your body. It's unnatural the way your frustration begins to melt away, and peace of mind settles back in. This sensation overwhelms you and flashing visions of Knives fill your head, suddenly it all falls dark and his voice comes to the front.

"I don't want to move, they're not okay yet... Could a human and a plant even connect like that?"

Your heart pounds in your ears. "Knives?" You call out.

Heat sweeps over your body and Knives abruptly pulls away from you, in his eyes you can see lingering disbelief, his wavering form lost. "Naï?" It slips out accidentally, like a subconscious response.

His gaze hardens. "I have more important things to do. See me when you're done." Cold, he turns away and begins to leave the room. In a confused silence, you watch him disappear behind closing doors, along with it going the numbness that had set in on your skin. Suddenly, Con'rad speaks up from beside you.

"You're special. You know?" You turn your head to look at him. "I've been with that boy ever since we crash landed here... I've never seen him do something like that."

You swallow harshly, watching his hand softly brush away the blood with the cotton ball. "Don't tell me that."

Con'rad looks up at you, his hands pausing for just a moment. "Huh?"

Your eyes trail back up to the doors. "Don't give me false hope Pops." This was enough for one day. "He's not human and he hates us anyway. Why would he care?"

Con'rad frowns. "He has feelings too..." He's known Knives for the better part of 150 years, he's never treated anyone, regardless of species, like that. You just haven't been around long enough to know that yourself, and you won't be around long enough to find out either, not unless he does the same thing to you that he did to Con'rad.

For the better part of your visit, you sit in awkward silence, muling over the happening of the day. Micro analyzing every single moment, look, and touch. Flower... You'd heard brief mentions of them from Knives: "They're fragile." He says. You've never seen one in person, though he seems to revere them in a way. They're plants, not like him though, they don't have conscience. Only made to look pretty... It's curious what he meant when he called you that.

"Alright. I know he wanted you to meet him afterwards but I think you should rest." A reassuring hand rests on your knee. "I can see it all over your face." Con'rad's face is soft as he looks up at you. He's been like a father figure ever since you arrived here, looking out for you and taking care of you. Such a kind soul.

"Thank you pops." Slowly you push yourself off the counter, finding yourself in a lazy half hug with him before you turn to head back to your room.

After what happened, you feel uncomfortable walking alone, like anyone could jump at you at any moment. It's strange not having Knives there, treading behind you every time you gaze over your shoulder, watching you, protecting you. Instead, you're exposed and even worse, vulnerable. Quickly you run to your room, shutting the door behind you and falling into the bed. Feeling safer than just moments ago, you feel sleep catching on, pulling you deeper into the mattress.

—⁠☆

Knives' head was reeling, all of these thoughts suddenly converging into one inside his skull like metal to a magnet. Even hours after initial contact he can still feel bare traces of your emotion, buzzing along his skin and thrashing his heart. Just the lingering touch of your skin on his leaves his heart racing and mind foggy.

He remembers the last thing he told you when he left, to meet him afterwards. Con'rad should have been long since finished by now, he felt. Yet you hadn't shown up yet, making his chest swirl with worry. Hopefully you haven't gone off alone again after what just happened, surely you're not that stupid. But Knives sets off to look for you, his first idea of your whereabouts being with Con'rad in the lab.

Cracking open the door, he looked around to see Con'rad sitting alone at his computer and Knives let out a sigh. Turning, he let the door click back shut as he continued his search. You were around here somewhere. Evidently, his last search occurred in your room. Quietly, after strolling the halls for what seemed like forever, Knives came to a stop outside your door. His hand grasped the cold knob, twisting it pushing it open, he stepped into the darkness.

Naï. You had called him naï. It confuses him, how you would know such a personal name like that. There's no way you just knew it, you must've come up with it yourself.

The closer he steps to your sleeping form under the covers the louder that name gets in his head, worst of all, it's you saying it this time. Not Vash.

Shaking his thoughts away, Knives kneels on the floor beside your bed, his hand ghosting over your warm cheek as you sleep. You disobeyed a direct order, to see him nonetheless, yet he can't find it in himself to grow angry. Your peaceful face makes him chest buzz, combined with the feeling of your skin against his hand he's going stir crazy. The warmth, the emotions, the connection opening back up again... It's all so much.

Suddenly, as if you were surprised, you jolted awake. His hand flinched back to his side and he quickly stood, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't sound suspicious. In that moment of thought, your eyes bore into his for what felt like an eternity, until he spoke.

"Good, you're awake. I was getting ready to wake you myself." Softly his hands move to brush off whatever imaginary dust hides on his torso, anything to keep from touching you again. "You didn't see me like I told you to."

You sit up, the blanket rolling off your shoulders. "I'm so sorry, I must've been so tired I-" his hand raises to stop you. "It's okay for just this once. Do it again and I'll see to it that you get a well deserved punishment."

Heat rises to your cheeks. "I'm sorry sir." As if you couldn't already die from embarrassment before, this was ten times worse.

"Come." Stepping towards the door he glanced back at you. "Accompany me."

With sleep still in your eyes and butterflies attacking your chest, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and slowly pull yourself to your feet. Patiently, Knives waits, his face soft as you step up to his side. As if he was praising you for listening, the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, your heart fluttered.

Knives took the lead, keeping you close with a wavering blade that you never seem to notice. It guards your back to keep you from falling behind. Your silence makes him wonder if you're even there, he wants to spin around and tell you all about his worries for you just to fill the silence. But he withholds.

"You're staying with me now..." You look up at him confused. "Don't I already?"

He opens the door to his own room, holding it for you as you step through. "Well yes... But I'm moving you to my room. For your safety."

Eyes widening, you look at him. "Your room?"

The door shuts as he steps away towards the other side of the room. "Are you deaf? Yes, I said my room." He draws the curtain, light spilling into the white room. Everything here is the color white or something similar, it's blinding to look at.

"What about you? Where will you sleep?" You step forward to his side as he motions for you to join him on the balcony.

"I don't need sleep." He states simply as he pulls the sliding door open for you. That should have been common sense, he doesn't have to do anything else for survival like you, that's why he never eats. It just never crossed your mind.

"What will you do while I'm sleeping though, you can't just watch me... That's creepy." A shudder passes through you as you step out onto the balcony, the heat of the suns seeping into your skin.

Joining you by your side, Knives gaze down at the city below. "That's exactly what I planned to do." His brows raise. "What else would I do?" Not that he'd thought this through very much, split second decisions have never looked good on him, his desperation is showing.

"I don't know." You hum, turning your gaze below. "Maybe do the things you normally do?"

"Normally do? Play the piano I suppose... I'd like you by my side though." His hands would move with the feeling of your presence while he plays, at first it started as a mindful thing, keeping you safe from the others. It only turned to something more when he could no longer bear a room without your company.

"You played without me for a long time before I came, right?" You lift your gaze to meet his.

"I did..." You nod. "Then surely you don't need me there."

Knives adverts his gaze, confused on how he'd become so dependent on a simple human. He could play without you there but something in him refused to let the notes flow.

"I'd rather just watch you." He crosses his arms over his chest.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you look away, the thought of him watching you in such a vulnerable moment is embarrassing, creepy even. To keep you safe, he says. That seems nearly impossible, it might relatively be the right answer but it doesn't feel like that.

Settling into this routine was strange, you'd grow tired, waiting until the last possible moment to sleep in the bed. Even going as far as falling asleep in obscure places, it felt wrong to have Knives sitting over your shoulder while you sleep. It doesn't sit right with you, but in the pit of your stomach rests a pinch of comfort. He cares. Con'rad said as much himself, to him it's evident that Knives must feel something for you, or else he wouldn't be acting the way he is.

Thinking about it leaves you restless, tossing and turning while Knives stands at the glass door, watching you in the reflection. The blankets feel too tight, too hot, and suffocating. You can't catch a break even when you throw the blankets off of you, hoping to catch some cool air. His bed is so much more comfortable than the one you had used before, and bigger too, yet no matter the way it is sleep just isn't coming.

Tired and annoyed, you sit up and push yourself out of the bed, cussing under your breath. Knives turns to look at you, furrowing his brows. "You aren't asleep yet."

You look up at him. "No shit..."

He follows you as you pull open the balcony door, stepping out behind you with a watchful gaze. "Is something the matter?" His hands twitch, wanting to rest up on your back and soothe your already tired mind.

You shake your head, resting your elbows on the railing as you look out at the city below. "Just can't stop thinking." You wave him off, feeling comfort from the cold breeze that brushes past.

"Of what?" You bite your lips at his question, your leg bouncing nervously as you clasp your hands together.

"I'm so sorry for all the troubles I must cause you..."

Knives leans beside you, his chest buzzing with a fire that only you ignite, it fills his head with these words. Things he wants to do, to say, things he doesn't understand. It all builds up into this ball he can't contain and it fumbles from his hands.

"You're worth all the trouble."

Your brows raise with surprise as you meet his gaze, eyes softer than they normally are, he takes on a gentle look. "What?" Your heart flutters, pounding in your chest furiously.

His hesitation bubbles into nervousness, it makes his stomach churn with unease. Reaching up, he runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." In any situation, he'd jump to protect you, to save you over and over again.

"Save me?" Your face heats up quickly, making warmth spread in your chest as you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. "You'd really do that?"

"Well... If anything like that ever happens again, of course."

A small smile graces your lips as you look back out over the balcony, sleep is creeping back in, making your eyes grow heavy. A yawn collects in your chest, spreading to your mouth. You cover it as it comes out. You're too tired to really freak out over what he's said, it excites you still, but it's hard to react when you can hardly stand up straight. That's when you hear the door behind you open again.

"You're clearly tired, let's go back in." You gaze back at Knives with a tired smile, leaning away from the rail you walk back inside, letting Knives close the door back behind you.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you sigh. "It's pointless, I'm still not going to be able to fall asleep."

Knives frowns. "Maybe I could help with that?" You look up at him, cocking a brow. Just what could he possibly have in mind? He doesn't know much about this sort of thing so there's no way. "Alright then... Give it to me."

With a nod he strides to the other side of the bed and sits down, his hand pulling back the sheets. "Let me lay with you?"

Your face flushes, heart pounding in your ears. "Sure. I thought you didn't sleep though." Even under the vise of your own wonder, you pull up the side of your blankets and move to lay down.

Sliding in to get comfortable, he grabs the blanket, holding it up for you. "I normally wouldn't, I don't have too. I can sleep though, it's a choice not a necessity." He drapes the blanket over you, and rests his head softly on his pillow.

"Thank you. That's... This is very sweet of you." Scooting deeper into the bed you offer him another smile before you rest your head on the pillow. It feels surreal, the divit in the bed beside you where he lays, and the heat that he gives off. It all swallows you whole, wrapping you in a comforting smell and sending you off to sleep. Suddenly it's like he's the key to your problems, one you weren't looking for but stumbled upon by accident.

You're fast asleep, soft snores falling from your lips as you lay there. Underneath the sheets, Knives' hand slides over to yours, intertwining your fingers. Illuminating the outline of your hands, a soft light floods the bed. It's not bright enough to wake you, only bright enough to simply light your peaceful face.

In his chest, his heart is pounding, his skin is burning hot where you touch him. It lights his soul brightly and breathes life into the connection between you. The emotions flood in, breaching the gate and swallowing him into your mind. Your heartbeat is slow, images in your head flow calmly into a dream, you're okay.

—⁠☆

You wake up alone, the bed beside you is empty and a warm feeling buzzes inside of your chest. Something feels different than it was last night, like a new hole has been opened in your chest waiting to be filled. The memories of last night fill your mind as you sit up, looking around for Knives. Instead you find Con'rad sitting by the closed door, a clipboard in his hands.

"Hey pops." You greet him with a stretch.

He looks up at you. "Good morning. Master Knives had to leave this morning. He wanted me to accompany you."

Pulling the blanket off your legs you scoot to the edge of the bed and stand with a groan. "Where did he say he was going?"

Con'rad stands and shrugs his shoulders. "He didn't tell me, his personal matters don't concern me." He tucks his clipboard under his arm. "Breakfast?"

Con'rad takes you down to the kitchen, opening cabinets to grab stuff for breakfast while you sit down on the counter top, watching him wonder about. Leaning down, he reaches into the bottom cabinets and grabs a pan.

"How's your arm?" He glanced at you as he set the pan on the burner. "Better than before." You shrug.

He hums. "Good."

After the incident, you healed quickly, faster than you should have. It was abnormal compared to how you should have healed, not even a scar was left behind, only leaving you with the memory. Con'rad carefully watched the injury, keeping it from growing infected. Even he had taken note of how unbelievably fast it had gone away, going as far as to say that Knives may have contributed to your fast recovery. It left you confused, with more questions than answers.

"I think I understand how he did it." Con'rad suddenly speaks, making you confused. It's like he was saying something before you tuned in.

"How what?"

"How you healed so fast, how Knives may have contributed."

Subconsciously, a smile spreads across your face. "It's like you read my mind Pops."

He laughs dryly. "Oh it's nothing." Grinning lazily, he drops a slice of butter in the hot pan. "I just think you should know, plants have healing capabilities. I understand it comes naturally to some, for others it's a different situation though." He leans his elbow on the counter. "In order for a plant like Knives to heal something he has to want it. Not just a surface level either, the want must be felt via an emotional bond or connection. I'm sure you've experienced this connection already."

You think back to the feeling that washed over you when Con'rad was cleaning your injury, and you nod hesitantly. "I think, I'm not sure what it was if I'm honest."

He nods earnestly. "Plants bond optionally to other plants through touch, the same can be passed from plant to human as well. Though it's only through the plants decision, it offers a bridge of emotion between them, giving the chance to openly transfer and hear each other's thoughts and emotions."

Taking a slice of bread he drops it into the pan as well. "Knives seems to have bridged this bond between you both by open choice, as a result of this it's allowed him to offer you vitality. Just by touch alone he can excel the healing process exponentially and even pass feelings of serenity between you. In short, I believe he's courted you without realizing."

Your stomach churns, striking your chest like a match in surprise. Eyes wide, you lick your dry lips. "Courted... Me?"

Con'rad flips the bread, a hum slipping from his lips. "Yes. I can't say for sure what it really is but in previous studies from the lost ages we can see mentions of this happening between plants. They believed that it may have been a courting ritual, forming that bond, it seems that only the ones who don't find it easy to just heal do this the best."

Mind reeling, you cast your gaze to the floor in shock. "Does he even know?"

"Possibly." Con'rad begins. "For that bond to have even happened between you he had to have strong enough feelings to complete it. That probably means he felt an instinctual pull to form a bond with you."

Knives hates humans so much, why would he bond with you? It's like one big fat lie, but it would explain the conflicting feelings buzzing in your chest. "But it was subconscious, so he must not have realized by now."

That was likely true, if it was instinctual then he probably didn't do it on purpose. More than likely he's probably not even aware of what he's done. That thought stuck with you until Knives returned, his immediate destination being by your side. The doors to the lab opened and he stepped in, his eyes pulling to your form. He strolled over, speckles of blood spotting his body.

"Good. You're here. Care to join me while I clean up?" Your stomach flips as you stand from your seat. "You mean a shower? You know how inappropriate that is." Your face flushes at the thought of him in a state of undress, it unlikely he even could undress, that suit seems like a part of his skin.

"No, the pool." A bladed tendril slithers out from behind him, carefully pressing against your back and guiding you forward. "Come on." He begins to walk away, barely offering you enough time to wave bye to Con'rad. The door swings shut behind you, and you jog forward to reach Knives' side.

"What were you doing?" You peer up at him. Blood dirties his face though it's not very much, just enough to be very noticeable.

"Business." His simple statement leaves the conversation at a stalemate as you reach the elevator. From there, you ride down to the pool. The lights inside the water cast a blue haze over the walls and you can very clearly see an opening of glass at the side of the tank. The room on the other side is shrouded in darkness, it sends shivers down your spine.

Wandering in front of you, Knives places his hand on the edge of the pool and jumps in, as he goes under you step up to the edge and peer inside. Beneath this is probably 50 feet worth of water before it meets the floor, suddenly you don't want to get inside. Even if you did, you still wouldn't be able to, your clothes would get wet.

"You not gonna get in?" Knives asks as he breaches the surface, his hair slick against his head. You shake your head, taking a step back. "I'm not wearing the right thing."

His face falls, lips drawn into a thin line. "It doesn't matter, I'll get you other clothes later. Just get in." He swims up to the edge and rests his arms along the side. You stare at the water then at him. If you said why you really didn't want to get in he'd surely laugh, but you've run out of excuses. Noticing your hesitation, he smiles.

"Are you afraid?" It's not condescending, might even be softly spoken but it feels so out of character for him. "It's deep, I know, but I promise I won't let anything bad happen."

You step closer, peering into the depths again. "Would you really?"

He nods to you and stretches his hand out, eyes soft and genuine. "If you hold onto me, yes." His hand is an open invitation for you to grab and lower yourself down, letting the water rest at your legs before you slip in. You stare at it instead, unsure of how to feel. Taking a deep breath, you step right up to the edge, placing your hand in his as you lower yourself to sit. Your legs dangle into the water, giving you an even clearer view of the vastness below. Swallowing harshly, you tighten your grip on his hand and slip in.

"Good job petal." He smiles brightly at you, turning to fully face you. Your whole body shakes while your face grows hot. "Petal?" You wonder aloud. He doesn't acknowledge it and instead uses his feet to push himself further away from the edge, dragging you with.

Eyes wide when you look down in a panic, you gasp, heart dropping to your stomach. If you couldn't swim you'd undoubtedly be sinking like a rock, likely ready to accept death by drowning. Just being in this situation is enough to put you on edge.

"Do you trust me?" Your eyes meet his, soft shaky breaths leave your lips quietly. "No. No, I don't." Using his hand as leverage, you pull yourself closer to him and tightly wrap around his arm. "Fuck... Knives. I don't like this."

He feels you shaking against him as you wearily look down, nervously chewing your bottom lip. Fear lingers in the back of his mind and he knows it's you, he can feel your fear. It's strong, but not enough to affect him badly. "It's okay." He coos.

Shaking your head, you look at him with tears in your eyes and begin to hyperventilate. It burns your throat the way it clenches, you can't seem to think straight with the emptiness below you threatening to swallow you whole.

"No. It's not. I need to get out." You desperately look to the edge of the pool where you got in, your legs aching for solid ground again. You can't bear to look down anymore in fear that your heart might explode from the stress, instead opting to close your eyes. Knives watches you close them with a deep frown, his other hand comes up to rest at the back of your neck. From his touch blooms the feeling of cold waves again, they flow through you, dragging away the panic as they leave. Knives doesn't move his hand until he feels your heart has slowed to an adamant rate, enough that he feels you'll be okay now.

Without a moment's notice he pulls you underneath the water with him, you open your eyes and his soft and sweet smile greets you. "That's it." He purrs. You open your mouth to question him but quickly snap it shut when water rushes in. Looking back up to the surface you point and gesture for him to swim back up. For a moment he cocks his brow in question before he breaches the surface with you.

You spit out the water. "You can breathe underwater?!" He's blankly staring at you before he bursts into laughter. "No. I just don't have to breathe at all."

"Really?" He nods his head with a smile. "Yes. If I'm being honest I forgot you needed to breathe." You can see now that the blood has washed from his face and body, leaving behind the cleanliness that he sheds everywhere.

"oh my gosh." You scoff. He chuckles quietly. "I remember everything about you but that's the one thing I forget." He shakes his head. "Disappointing."

Smiling, you playfully smack his shoulder. "Rude." He laughs it off.

The pool falls silent as he pulls you around with him, his hand in yours. Softly, the designs of his suit spread from the skin of his hand, glowing to the tips of your fingers. "You calmed me down again... Didn't you?" Your gaze lingers on your hands before moving to him.

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed. Lifting your hands out of the water you move them into view. Very clearly now the lines are starting to spread to you, only up to your knuckles.

"This. It's a connection." His eyes widen at the sight of your hand taking on his own designs. "But your hand." He pulls it closer to him, gently running his finger over the newly formed lines.

"I don't know... Con'rad never said anything about this." His eyes meet yours. "What did he say?"

Looking away from your hand and up at him, you hum. "It forms a mental and emotional bond. But this? I have no idea." You shake your head. "We should tell him, he might know something."

He looks back at your hand again, the pattern up to your wrist now. "He will." He swims back to the edge of the pool, letting you climb out first. As you stand, his hand slips from yours and the pattern glow begins to fade.

"It's going away!" As he stands, he gazes at it sternly. "It's not permanent..." Grabbing your hand he lifts it to look closer. The moment his skin touches yours it lights up, continuing to slowly climb up your arm. You don't feel any different though. "We should still tell Con'rad."

He adjusts his hold on your hand and begins to pull you with him back to the elevator. "C'mon."

Reaching the floor, he pulls you out and down the hall to Con'rad's lab. "Con'rad!" He calls out as he pushes the door open.

"Master Knives." Con'rad turns to face you in his chair. "You need something?"

"This." Walking closer to him, Knives stops just feet away from his seat and lifts your hands together. "What is this? Is it bad?" In the back of your mind, worry festers, but you feel it's not your own emotion.

Con'rad's brows shoot up in surprise, leaning forward to look closer, he sees the pattern has crawled up to your elbow now. "This is interesting." He pulls your hands apart, making the pattern fall dim, a small indention on where it resides is still there. "It stays..."

Knives groans, desperation building in his chest. "Is it bad? Just say it." Sitting back in his chair, Con'rad lightly rubs his chin. "More likely than not, no. Then again, plants have never bonded with humans before so this is an entirely new process."

"Bond? Process? What are you saying?" Con'rad gazes at Knives before looking at you. "You tell him."

"Me?! I hardly understand it myself!" Knives turns his head to look at you, in his eyes you can see the confusion but in your chest you can feel his frustration.

"Tell me." He's not asking, he's telling you. It's an order and it makes you shudder. "I am."

Taking a deep breath, you exhale softly. "You bonded with me subconsciously and opened a connection between us mentally and emotionally, it's not just a bond though. It's a courting process that plants used to have a long time ago."

His eyes widen. "What they're trying to say is that you're essentially 'mates' now, if that's what you want to call it." Con'rad stands from his chair. "But since it's a cross species connection, there are side effects we didn't know about before. I'm not saying that I know what they are but I am saying that we should find out."

Looking at you, Knives' face softens. "I didn't know..." He feels regret bubble in his chest. "I'm so sorry for putting you in danger." His sad voice makes you want to grab his hand in reassurance, but you feel unsure.

"I don't think they're in any kind of danger." Knives looks at Con'rad, his hand reaching for yours. "How do you know?"

Walking towards his clipboard, Con'rad picks up a pen. "The effects that Plants have on other living things are severe, to a point that even the smallest negative thing could kill instantly. It should be the same for humans..." He trails off.

"So basically, I don't need to worry?" You lightly squeeze Knives hand as you step forward. Con'rad sets the pen back down and turns to look at you, his finger pointing at Knives' hand in yours. "The more he does that... opening the connection between you two... I think he's strengthening that bond. But at the same time something else might be happening as well." He turns to rummage through the drawers under the counter.

"If you'll allow it... I'll take samples of your blood to see what exactly might be going on, if it even involves that."

You look away from Con'rad to Knives. "I'd like to find out. If that's okay with you?" He adverts his gaze to the floor, unsure of how to react. Knowing what he knows now... He doesn't want you to leave his sight. The risk feels too great to him now. He can't just stand by leaving you, his partner, uneducated about what could be his fault.

"Of course." You offer him a smile as you step away from him, your hand slipping from his.

"Yeah, let's do it."

When it was over, Con'rad was quick to get you back the results. "I looked at my previous sample from him and I noticed some similarities in cell structure. It almost seems like the more he makes that connection the more he imprints on you..." You furrow your brows, confused.

"Am I turning into a plant or something?"

Tucking the clipboard under his arm, he meets your gaze. "Not entirely..."

Knives steps closer to you, his gaze hardening. "Not entirely? What does that mean?" You look up to see Knives clenching his jaw, he's grown unbelievably impatient. "Stop wasting time."

Con'rad nods. "Yes sir." His stance straightens before he begins. "You're not turning into a plant per say, it's more like he's changing your biological composition to better match his DNA."

You cast a glare at Con'rad. "It's the same thing! You literally just said that he's turning me into a plant."

He shakes his head. "I don't think you understand... It's not a full process, from what I've seen the plant cells are simply acting as a shield, they cover your actual cells but they don't take over. So, yes. Should he connect any deeper and fully undergo this process you will technically be part plant. It's nothing to be worried about though."

Looking away in shock, you step back. "Oh."

Knives casts you a worried glance before he looks back at Con'rad. "Why would it do that? They wouldn't want this."

Con'rad sighs, his hand rising to push his glasses up his nose. "It's so that you're more compatible when breeding."

Your heart dropped to your stomach, both Knives' and your faces flushed. "Oh God." You step back and turn around, hiding your face in your hands. "This is insane..." You mutter as you begin to pace a small path.

Knives turns and looks back at you, slight guilt swimming in his eyes. He can see the stress in your face when you look at him. "I didn't even know what I had done..." He sounds disappointed.

Stopping where you walk, you take a deep breath and sigh, trying to calm your fraying nerves. "It's okay Knives." You give him your best reassuring smile before you look back down at your wet clothes. "Can I please change out of these? I can't handle being like this at the moment."

You pull them away from your body, the water begins to feel cold against the air and uncomfortable. Stepping up to you, Knives places a light hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, c'mon."

Quietly, he takes you from the lab and leads you down to his room. Pushing open the door he steps inside, flicking on the light. "I have some spare clothes from Con'rad when he thought I would want them. They might fit you." He digs through the drawers, pulling out a shirt and sweatpants for you.

Standing upright, nudging the drawer shut with his knee he hands them to you. You take them happily, moving over to place them on the bed. Behind you Knives goes to leave the room, and offer you privacy, but you turn to stop him.

"Wait." You say. He stops and turns to look at you, his brow raised in question. "You can stay here, just don't look. I want to talk to you."

He turns away from you to allow you privacy, his arms carefully crossed over his chest. "I wanted to speak to you too." He admits.

Pulling your shirt off of your head, you grab the dry one and pull it over you. "I kind of expected that, but I just want you to know that I'm not mad about this whole plant thing." Your face burns at the thought of Con'rad's words before you left. "It's hard to be mad at you when you really didn't have a choice in the matter."

"Yeah, but I was the one who did it, if I knew-" you cut him short. "If you knew, the keyword being if, because you didn't know. It was only your body's way of physically saying you liked me that's all it is."

Next you tugged off your pants letting them fall to the floor then pulled on the sweatpants he gave you.

"But you didn't have a choice in the matter, what if you didn't want that?" He counters.

Turning around, tossing your wet clothes in the corner, you make your way over to him. "You didn't either, neither of us had a choice. You didn't mean to do it, end of story. I just have to accept what's happening now and you do too."

He turns around to face you, his face in what seems like shock and shame. "Are you okay with being stuck with me like this? It doesn't bother you or make you uncomfortable?"

You shake your head. "Knives, I like you just as much as you like me. This was a bit unexpected but I'm sure I'll get used to it." You can see the visible discomfort in his face, he clearly doesn't want you to be invoked in something you don't want. "Why don't we make things right by starting from a confession?" Your face softens.

His tense shoulders relax at your suggestion and he looks to the side in thought, thinking over your offer. When he looks back at you, he nods. "Yeah." He agrees softly.

Offering him a gentle smile, you speak. "I'll start first... I really like you, Knives, I think you're an extremely intelligent person and I know you have a big heart. There's some things you do that just send my heart into space... I really really want you."

You can feel your face heat up, and you lift a hand to cover your mouth. "Gods that sounds awkward."

Knives smiles, a chuckle falling from his lips. Uncrossing his arms, he reaches out and pulls your hand away from your face. "Don't hide it, I think you look cute when you're flustered." The tenseness in his voice has washed away, replaced by a nice inviting warmth.

"My turn...You have the most captivating personality, I can't help but be interested in everything you say. Even from the moment I met you I couldn't help but feel a pull towards you." His smile grows. "I really like you too."

Your face is burning hot now, and your heart flutters intensely. It feels like you might pass out. Lifting a hand to your face he cups your cheek, staring directly into your eyes. "Wow, Knives... Thank you."

His eyes soften and he hums. "It's my pleasure, Flower."

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be Hunted

Alastor x reader x Lucifer

Chapter 1:

Warnings: Violence.

(Image: Dunes by Logan Feliciano. Source: Pinterest)

The dust kicked up every time you jumped to avoid the thrusts of her trident. It was becoming more and more difficult for you to move, with the blood falling down your side, your vision becoming cloudy, your back getting closer and closer to the destroyed foundations of what was once a building, until you were trapped.

Falling onto your knees, you looked up at her red glowing eyes, the two beasts fell to her side, their growl resonating deep within your bones. “I gave you a chance” she sure did, “I wanted us to be friends” her trident fell against your side, only one of the three knives grazing your skin, “But you just had to, right?” tears fell down her eyes, straight into the dirt under her heels.

“I…I underestimated you” you coughed out blood with a smile, “But I'm not dying here” she proved to be more of a challenge. No regrets, but you should’ve picked your fights a bit wiser. “This just can’t go on” she stilled the trident, trying not to deepen the already open wound, “We went through all the trouble of fighting, and you are going to let me live? Are you insane?” you growled annoyed and sore.

In between heavy breaths, she had an idea, “How about a bet?” one that made your lion ears perked up.

“Ten years, you'll work for me in my project, I believe I can manage to convince you to find something good to do with yourself” she ignited a warm yellow flame on her hand, it danced around her palm without hurting her, “What makes you think I will make a bet with you, or a deal for that matter?” you pushed her hand away, “This” she ignited her trident in the yellow flame.

With the blade she cut through your body and took your soul from you, just as easy as cutting butter. “I will kill you!” you yelled, a roar washing over your voice. She limited herself to smile triumphantly, as her eyes relaxed and shifted colors, “Now you kind of screwed, aren’t you?”.

“If I play along with your bullshit, you promise to give me back my soul?” you used the rubble behind you to push yourself onto a standing position, ungracefully so. “I promise” she offered her hand, the flame dancing in between her fingers. 

You finally took her hand, the light shifted into a dark hue going up both hers and your arm, the deal sealing itself on your eyes, changing them from red sclera to a black ones, your pupils remaining a white-silver hue.

It was a big relief when the trident wound started to heal with a hiss. “You’re awfully confident” you shrugged, placing your hand over the burning flesh. “Well, we have a long time ahead of us, don’t we?” she took it upon herself to support you on your opposite side, helping you walk away from the debris.

7 years later

When the hotel fell apart you received an order, “Take everything inside and take it to safety” and so you did. All that was pictures, pets, luggage, everything, you gathered it far from the fight, then she told you to stay put until further notice.

You took a walk around, trying to go unnoticed as you were ordered, going into your phone adding a lot of new kitchen supplies into a virtual cart, when a groan made you look towards the Radio Demon’s crashed studio. After taking a hit of Adam’s guitar-axe, you thought it was amazing that he remained alive.

“Princess, Smiley is alive” your connection through your deal was truly an advantage when far away, “Go see if he’s okay, try to stay out of sight, and if he needs assistance, help him” he was obviously not okay, but you had an order, so you made your way across the sulfuric smelling debris, until you reached the door of his studio, pushing it lightly, shadow launched at you, attempting to scare you away, failing terribly.

“I have an order to check if you are, quote unquote 'okay', demon” the shadow smiled and moved away, allowing you in. Shadows painted over your body a veil, which he could not see through, only the silver light your eyes emitted.

You peeked to your right from the door to see Alastor sitting on the floor, back against his desk, trying to hide a big gush on his chest with his hands, “Are you ok?” he shot you a look that you could call a ‘Fuck you’ and a ‘You have to be kidding me’ mix.

“Are you in need of assistance?” again he didn’t answer directly, he just growled making his prongs a lot bigger, “This intimidation skit will not work on me sir, so answer, yes or no” his ears bent down and stayed flat behind his head, “No” he muttered, refusing any help from your part, “Okay then” his shadow opened the door for you, after a small curtsy to the gesture, you moved away from the rubble, the rocks making tiny crushing sounds under your heel.

His shadow caught up with you, mimicking a stop sign with his arm, “What?” then he made a figure with Alastor’s shape, a needle closing up his wound and then the same demon all smiling and walking, “So you want me to patch him up” the shadow nodded, the smile wider and cheery, “What’s in for me? He refused help, why would I go through all that trouble for free?” then he checks-mate you with Charlie’s shape. He threatened to tell on you, “Good try joker, but you ain’t got shit on me”.

“Alright” you heard the plea from the echo that the radio cabin made.

You made your way back to the demon, as soon as he saw you he took a look at his shadow before his prongs grew any bigger, then at you taking off his shirt, he continued growling and making static noises, it became louder with every step.

As you took his coat and shirt off he noticed the tips of your fingers were a burned black color, your hands a much lighter color in contrast, light yellow, he would dare to even call it pastel, but due to the poor light he couldn’t decide on hues. 

Your nails were retractable ones, he noticed how you stopped before you touched the fabric of his coat, your nails went back into your fingers and then you proceeded.

“I’ll stitch it up, but that’s all” you took in the raw hatred in his eyes before continuing. “If you shower, avoid extreme temperatures, and apply alcohol near the edges to keep it from infections” you instructed while partially removing his garments, leaving both his dress shirt and coat hanging down his elbows. The shadow provided you with a curved needle and suture thread, a very resistant one at that.

“What the blazes!?” he shrieked when you undid his belt, only to tie his hands behind his back with it, “I don’t want you messing my work up” you explained, making a pop with your mouth at the end.

As the needle went through his skin, you found it weird not hearing a single peep off of him, then you discovered he was biting his lip, to the point it bled down his chin. “If you need to yell, do so, you’ll only hurt yourself if you continue doing that” his ears went back again, like a plea to make the pain go away, at the same time that embarrassment shot against his spine like a lightning. Then he yelled into the opposite side, to avoid receiving another smack.

When you finished closing the large gash, the shadow wrapped it up in bandages, “There you go” you stood up, dusting your knees before turning on your heels. He cleared his throat bitterly to draw your attention to the fact that he was still tied up, only to receive a disinterested giggle and your utter lack of concern.

“I’ve killed pests for less than this attitude you’re insulting me with” he thought that with an implied threat he would get rid of his binds and also get a little sign of fear from you, sadly his magic was weak, and so was the remaining strength he had, so he couldn’t free himself no matter how much he tugged on the leather.

He had a little bit of hope he could induce some authority toward you, but all he got was his hair pulled backwards and the cold steel of an ax pressed against his neck.

He took a couple of seconds to ask himself, how come you were behind him in less than a second? And also swallow the fact that now he was the one being threatened.

“Knowing how to pick your fights, may save your life one day” The edge of the blade made a sharp noise while being dragged up slowly up his neck, stopping under his chin. “You’ve chosen badly twice in a day, and barely walked alive off the first one” you tugged just a little bit harder on his hair, just to place your authority over his will.

“Tell me, are you dumb enough to bite the hand that stitched you, and die because your bruised ego and your big mouth are taking control of your rational thinking?” you couldn’t measure the amount of hate his stare held, but he attentively took your advice at heart, so he relaxed his eyes and his smile turned less demonic, only answering your question with a soft no with his head.

Withdrawing the ax from his neck, you used the point to let the buckle lose without breaking it, allowing the belt to fall down his wrists. “Start picking your fights more wisely, boy, afterlife 101” you mocked while ruffling his hair right in between his ears.

“Now, I don’t think someone will ask, but if they do, we never had this conversation, rep wise” he nodded, “You better-“ his tongue tied on itself, he reckon your face being inches away from his, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul, deer-est” you chuckled at your own wordplay, while all he could do was stare at your eyes.

“Who are you?” You assumed for a long time that hell had already forgotten you, after thirty years without making yourself present, who wouldn't?  Plus, he looked a lot younger than you, he lived on earth at least ten years longer than you, lucky bastard.

“No one” before he could make an attempt to grab your hand, you jumped out the door, disappearing from his sight into the mountain of rubble.

When Alastor made his way back to the new Hotel, he felt tempted to ask around about what he just witnessed, but preferred to keep his mouth shut. He wouldn’t admit in front of the others that the Radio Demon got assisted and handled as a whiny child, so instead he remained the smiley guy he is.

All the rooms got sorted later in the night, with a snap of his fingers everything in the new room looked exactly as it did in the old one. He placed the ruined coat and dress shirt on a chair, resorting to a gray suit he had lying around, “I should start broadcasting” he muttered to himself, making his way to his brand new station situated in the left wing of the Hotel.

After a few hours he came back to his quarters to refresh. He inspected his chest just to reassure himself, his scar had been closed with an almost religious delicacy. It almost felt like lace.

No one would catch the Radio Demon blushing while tracing his wound, but Alastor didn’t mind at the moment.

---

Hazbin Taglist: @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @littlebluefishtail

[nulltune]

&&. HAKUNO REVERSE CARD  @astrxl-finale ♡

oh.  that's a new one,  sunshine.  soon realizing the irony of such a descriptor,  however,  her face—  doesn't shift from its usual stoic,  though lips end up pursing slightly in a pout.        ❛   i'll consider it,   ❜       there was nothing wrong with being openminded,  after all.  chin lifts,  caramel hues meeting striking gold.  head cants innocently.       ❛   if you consider tightening the screws on your priorities.   ❜       ... he should've expected this kind of response,  really.  little miss quiet here wasn't the sort to back down from a challenge.

❛    so insistent on being a bad boy ...   ❜       the exhale like a sigh is done on purpose,   and the dainty digit tapping his nose is a non - verbal form of admonishment  —  liken it to a boop on a small animal's snout,  if you will.       ❛   reflect on that behavior a bit,  and you might come to realize that not every rule is meant to be broken.   ❜

[5ft2sunflower]

Cluttercore: Why The 2010s Blogger Aesthetic Is Back In Style

SOPHIE LOU WILSON LAST UPDATED 7 MARCH 2023, 5:28

f you were online in the early 2010s, you probably remember the emergence of several digital fashion subcultures. Tumblr kids in fishnet tights and scuffed Dr. Martens established their scuzzy, soft grunge aesthetic. Meanwhile, fashion bloggers with Lookbook.nu accounts posted ‘fit pics in skinny jeans, camel coats and heeled ankle boots. Elsewhere, in the blogosphere, teenagers rummaged in their closets to try and recreate avant-garde runway looks or scoured thrift stores for original 1960s shift dresses to pair with clashing knee-highs. 

The latter’s mismatched, vintage aesthetic is now experiencing a revival courtesy of it-girls like Bella Hadid, Iris Law and Emma Chamberlain who, lately, have been experimenting with mixed textures, colourful patterns and kitschy accessories that wouldn’t look out of place on a late-00s style blog like Susie Lau’s Style Bubble or Tavi Gevinson’s Style Rookie. Back then, these bloggers and their contemporaries cultivated an anti-minimalist “cluttercore” fashion aesthetic characterised by rainbow hues, mismatched textures and a studied interest in vintage style. Celebrities like Elle Fanning, Florence Welch and Alexa Chung were also known for dressing in this chaotic, twee-adjacent style at the time, while established fashion faces like Iris Apfel and Anna Dello Russo were often credited as formative influences.

At the same time, popular blogging platform Blogger counted more than 2 million blogs related to fashion on their platform alone. Among these were diary-like personal style blogs that mixed backyard self-timer outfit portraits with fashion commentary, life updates, vintage mood boards, scans of scrapbooks, and film stills. The outfits themselves were experimental, involving lots of layering and a mixing of different vintage eras.

Photo: Steven Simione/FilmMagic.

Emma Chamberlain at Spotify’s Best New Artist party in 2023.

Fast-forward to now. In February of this year, Chamberlain channeled a familiar aesthetic at Spotify’s Best New Artist party, wearing a cropped cream sweater vest layered over a pale green silk shirt and cream maxi. The neutral colour palette and loose-fitting outfit divided opinion, with some saying it made her look like “a grandmother.” However, similar comments were often directed at teen blogger Gevinson, of Style Rookie, who went as far as dyeing her hair grey in 2010 at the peak of her blog’s fame. In 2011, the then-15-year-old wrote on her blog, “Challenge beauty standards! Screw convention! Look like a grandmother on ecstasy at Fashion Week!” There was an element of anti-fashion to the look which defied style codes often dictated by traditional media at the time that certain colours and patterns must never mix or that young women should dress for the male gaze.

Gevinson, who is better known today for playing Kate Miller in the Gossip Girl reboot, was the blueprint for many of the personal style blogs launched by young people in the first half of the 2010s. Her blog swelled with a distinctive aesthetic, delineated by the radical DIY of ‘90s riot grrrl, the hazy girlhood of Sofia Coppola films and backyard outfit photos in tulle skirts and granny sweaters. Some of the clothes she wore on her blog were even costumes she’d played dress-up with as a child. Others came from her local Salvation Army.  

In a TikTok, trend forecaster Mandy Lee said that Gevinson “made a lot of girls question why they seek permission for dressing how they want to,” adding that, “she discusse[d] fashion as a truly joyful self-expression despite being criticised by largely grown-ups.” 

Eerie, 25, a fashion designer and zine editor from London, had a personal style blog from 2013 to 2018. They describe their style at the time as an expressive hodgepodge of eras and aesthetics. “I particularly liked ‘40s, ‘60s and ‘70s style mixed in with ‘90s grunge and ‘80s pops of colour and acid wash for quite a lot of my blogging days,” they say. “Each successful look inspired more efforts to experiment, to go further, to try more out-there things. And largely being documented at home, a lot of experimentation was possible without anything such as practicality getting in the way.”

The peak of fashion blogging coincided with the rise of thrifting which is perhaps why so many bloggers adopted such a mismatched vintage aesthetic. Depop launched in 2011 and vintage shopping became increasingly popular in imitation of the decade's it-girls like Chung and Irina Lazareanu. 

TikTok encourages a similar amalgamation of vintage eras today as revivals coexist, overlap and feed into each other. Indeed, the style blogger fashion revival itself is perhaps yet another iteration of the ‘true-thousands’ trend, the next step on from ubiquitous Y2K fashions and instead a closer reflection of how people really dressed in the late aughts. For those in their mid-late twenties, it’s a return to the media, culture and aesthetics of their adolescence so, much like the Tumblr revival, it’s also driven by sped-up nostalgia.

The proliferation of different trends and aesthetics popularised by TikTok and existing at the same time provides a rich sartorial landscape for young people to experiment with. Like Tumblr's and Blogger’s fashion communities 10 years ago, TikTok is providing a platform for teenagers to play around with style and have thoughtful discussions about clothes. Get ready with me videos and trend analyses can sometimes cultivate the same intimate feeling as personal style blogs. 

After all, the cluttercore and weird girl aesthetics that have flourished on TikTok thanks to the likes of Hadid and Law have much in common with the messy, clashing styles that distinguished 2010s fashion blogs. It feels like the logical endpoint to ‘trendcore’ because, rather than following one trend, style blogging was often about mixing everything together at the same time. This amalgamation of aesthetics blurs the lines of any preconceived fashion guidelines. While the style blogger may be an aesthetic in its own right, it’s also a call to explore personal style beyond the trends fed to us by the algorithm.

There’s a growing nostalgia for the perceived authenticity of fashion blogging. Most of these style bloggers were independent and didn’t plan their content or outfits based on either pleasing algorithms or pleasing other people IRL. The disruptive movement inspired legions of teens around the world to dress up in outfits people at school thought were ‘weird’, start thrifting just before it was popular and have fun with fashion outside of what was considered trendy. 

The aesthetic makes a convincing case for finding joy in fashion and experimenting with personal style rather than chasing every new ‘core’ that comes along. It encourages real excitement about getting creative with the clothes you already have in your wardrobe and therein lies the thrill of it. 

Blogging encouraged exploration and pulling from fashion and cultural history to create an outfit, applying the same creative thought process that might go into other art forms. The inspiration, often explored in accompanying long-form text, mood board or film stills, was just as important as the finished look. 

As the meeting point between Tumblr fashion and the weird girl aesthetic, it’s not hard to see why there’s nostalgia for this subculture of digital fashion history. In a time when trends come and go faster than ever, experimenting with personal style and pushing fashion boundaries can be a thrilling antidote to trend fatigue. Whether you engaged with it at the time or not, consider this a call to dress creatively and connect with your inner teen.  Or... grandma.

[incorrectnwsl]

I think that the US will win all the group stage games. Imo with how the Netherlands is doing Portugal will be the biggest challenge but I think we either manage a 2-1 scoreline or at least a draw against them. We will be playing them last and I think they showed some fatigue in their game last night after having a few rounds of games. Either way I have the US ending up top of the group. I know fans are pessimistic rn but the idea that we lose a bunch of group stage games isn’t realistic when we’ll have a strong starting lineup by July.

I think a 2-1 is a reasonable guess, but it depends on how the Netherlands plays between now and July. And also if we have a solid lineup and Vlatko doesn't make weird, inexplicable choices.

I believe we'll medal, what hue that medal might be....who can say.

But we could end up screwed in the knockouts. Sweden is in Group G and the winner of Group E (our group) plays the runner up of Group G and the winner of Group G plays the runner up of Group E in the round of 16, so we might meet them there or even in the semi finals (if we get that far) if we avoid them in the round of 16.

I like to game things out.

[sock-to-the-third]

Handmade Paper from Naturals

By Diane Flowers

It’s a cute little book that has a gradual introduction into the subject with a little history before jumping straight into supplies.

Note to self: investigate the history of paper, especially non-Eurocentric

.

Amusing Terminology (pg16)

Deckle: paper stencils

Couching (pronounced cooching): process of removing water from wet paper

The book instead said “Couching (rhymes with ‘pooching’)

Lol, someone doesn’t wanna say cooch

.

Paper Press Techniques (pg16-17)

Wood Squish: paper btw 2 slabs of wood + c-clamps

Wire Wrack: air dry, glue down to keep flat

Fan Box: cardboard diy tomb with fan

Microwave: (nah)

Iron: (seemed aggressive, and needed alot of towls)

1 and 2 seemed the tortoise method while 3, 4, and 5 haire style. Out of all of them, I’d rather do the first two but if I had to pick a faster one I’d do the fan. The other two I’d be worried about burning them + I don’t have a spare microwave.

If I did get into this, I think I’d go with a Professional Paper Press or comission someone to help me make one. It involves screwing the paper into place while the homemade is merely squishing it between wood with bricks that would be uneven for the kind I’d like to do.

.

Random Side Bits

“Adding Texture” (pg42-43) has a photo of a rubber stamp imprint on the paper that looks absolutely adorable, definitely would want to replicate on the border.

There’s a range of paper recipes but my favorite is “Tea Paper” (pg55) that has this old timey scroll look that I love. The “Denim Paper” (pg60) sounds intriguing to try for the gorgeous blue hue while “Moss Paper (pg64) has this gorgeous grainy textured look that I love.

Then for the sake of experimentation rather than practicality, I am curuous about Ivy Leaf paper (pg72-73), its rather textured and a deep green that has such good vibes.

Handmade Books (pg96-97)

Don’t underestimate the author, Flowers, there is a FUCK TON of information packed int these two pages including how best materials for the cover and strategies for book making.

For one, I definitely will take Flowers advise.

“When you make your first book cover, practice with some scraps of paper. After you understand how the process works, use your precious sheets of handmate paper.”

More terminology!

Awl: hole puncher

PVA (polyvinyl acetate) glue: dry fast with perservative against mold

Bone folder: for creasing

“Please pass me the bone folder.” I proceed to take a thigh bone the size of my arm, pressing it gently into the paper with love and care one would use for holding a baby.

Lol, just love the word

Wax Paper: keep covers/pages separate while glue dries

.

pH levels (pg30)

“Papers that are pure and pH neutral are considered archival quality […] When overly acidic or alkaline matsrials exist in pulp, the cellulose will eventually break down and cause the paper to deteriorate.”

Enough to say that got me super interested. Whether or not I decide on making my own paper, the science of why some paper may break down faster than others and the chemical process involved of treating pulp sounds fascinating.

There’s a separate process for working with raw plants and vegetables to reduce the pH rather than recycled paper or prepared pulp that “you should add an acid free additive in the blender to avoid deterioration over time. After your sheets are dry, you can protect them further by spraying or coating them with an acid free sealer.”

.

Molds (pg12, 33-34)

Both have their perks but I prefer the pour mold. Neither looks difficult simply getting the material but getting it out looks more challenging with the dip than pour mold, but I have a feeling I won’t know until I try it.

.

There’s waaaaay more terms and information tid bits. I’ll come back later for proper notes.

[toolacademy]

Difference Between Mapei Grout Avalanche and Other Mapei Grouts

Introduction

Choosing the right grout is crucial for any tiling project. The grout you select can significantly impact the durability, appearance, and maintenance of your tiled surfaces. Mapei, a renowned name in the construction industry, offers a wide range of grout products tailored to different needs. In this article, we will delve into the differences between mod truss screw and other Mapei grouts, helping you make an informed decision for your next project.

Understanding Mapei Grouts

Mapei has a long-standing history in the construction industry, providing innovative solutions for over 80 years. Their extensive grout lineup includes cementitious, epoxy, and hybrid grouts designed to meet various requirements. Each type offers unique properties suited for specific applications, from residential bathrooms to industrial kitchens.

What is Mapei Grout Avalanche?

Mapei Grout Avalanche is a premium, high-performance cementitious grout known for its bright white color and smooth finish. It is specifically formulated to provide excellent color consistency and uniformity, making it ideal for projects where aesthetics are paramount. The key features of Mapei Avalanche include high stain resistance, low shrinkage, and easy workability.

Common applications for Mapei Grout Avalanche include high-visibility areas like bathrooms, kitchens, and commercial spaces where a clean, bright appearance is desired. Its superior color retention makes it a popular choice for light-colored tiles and mosaics.

Types of Mapei Grouts

Mapei offers several types of grouts, each designed for different applications:

Cementitious Grouts: Traditional grouts made from cement, sand, and other additives. Examples include Keracolor U and Keracolor S.

Epoxy Grouts: High-performance grouts known for their durability and chemical resistance. Examples include Kerapoxy CQ and Kerapoxy IEG.

Hybrid Grouts: Combining properties of cementitious and epoxy grouts, such as Flexcolor CQ.

Key Differences: Mapei Avalanche vs. Other Mapei Grouts

Composition

Mapei Avalanche is a cementitious grout, while Mapei’s range also includes epoxy and hybrid grouts, each with distinct chemical compositions suited for various applications.

Color Range

Mapei Avalanche is renowned for its bright white color, ensuring a clean and uniform look. Other Mapei grouts offer a broader color palette, including neutrals, pastels, and bold hues to match diverse design needs.

Texture

The smooth texture of Mapei Avalanche contrasts with the more varied textures available in other grouts. Epoxy grouts, for instance, may have a slightly rougher texture due to their resin content.

Application Techniques

Mapei Avalanche is designed for ease of application, with good workability and minimal shrinkage. Epoxy grouts, while offering superior durability, can be more challenging to apply and require precise mixing and application techniques.

Performance and Durability

Mapei Avalanche

Mapei Avalanche provides excellent stain resistance and durability, making it suitable for both residential and commercial applications. Its high performance ensures long-lasting results with minimal maintenance.

Other Mapei Grouts

Epoxy grouts, such as Kerapoxy CQ, offer superior chemical and stain resistance, ideal for industrial and high-traffic areas. Hybrid grouts like Flexcolor CQ provide a balance between ease of use and enhanced durability.

Ease of Use and Application

Mapei Avalanche

Mapei Avalanche is user-friendly, with a smooth consistency that facilitates easy application and cleaning. It sets quickly, reducing project downtime.

Other Mapei Grouts

Cementitious grouts like Keracolor U are also easy to apply but may require sealing. Epoxy grouts, while more durable, need careful handling during application.

Aesthetic Considerations

Mapei Avalanche

The bright white color of Mapei Avalanche ensures a crisp, clean appearance, perfect for modern and minimalist designs. Its consistent color helps achieve a flawless finish.

Other Mapei Grouts

With a broader color range, other Mapei grouts allow for more design flexibility, catering to various aesthetic preferences from traditional to contemporary styles.

Water Resistance and Waterproofing

Mapei Avalanche

Mapei Avalanche offers good water resistance, suitable for wet areas like bathrooms and kitchens. However, it is recommended to use a sealer for enhanced protection.

Other Mapei Grouts

Epoxy grouts such as Kerapoxy CQ are inherently waterproof and ideal for areas exposed to constant moisture, such as swimming pools and industrial kitchens.

Stain and Mold Resistance

Mapei Avalanche

Mapei Avalanche provides high stain resistance, reducing discoloration and maintaining its bright appearance. Its formulation also inhibits mold and mildew growth.

Other Mapei Grouts

Epoxy grouts excel in stain and mold resistance, making them suitable for environments where hygiene is critical. Hybrid grouts like Flexcolor CQ offer a balanced performance in residential settings.

Cleaning and Maintenance

Mapei Avalanche

Maintenance of Mapei Avalanche is straightforward, with routine cleaning keeping it in pristine condition. Its stain-resistant properties minimize the need for intensive cleaning.

Other Mapei Grouts

Cementitious grouts may require periodic sealing to maintain their appearance, while epoxy grouts are easier to clean but can be more challenging to install.

Cost Comparison

Mapei Avalanche

Mapei Avalanche is competitively priced, offering good value for its performance and aesthetic qualities. It is an economical choice for projects requiring a high-end look.

Other Mapei Grouts

Epoxy and hybrid grouts are typically more expensive due to their advanced properties and enhanced durability. However, they provide long-term savings through reduced maintenance and longer lifespan.

Environmental Impact

Mapei Avalanche

Mapei Avalanche is formulated with low VOC content, contributing to a healthier indoor environment. It aligns with Mapei’s commitment to sustainability.

Other Mapei Grouts

Mapei’s epoxy and hybrid grouts also meet environmental standards, with formulations designed to minimize ecological impact while delivering high performance.

Customer Reviews and Feedback

Mapei Avalanche

Users frequently praise Mapei Avalanche for its ease of use, consistent color, and excellent finish. It is favored for residential projects where aesthetics are a priority.

Other Mapei Grouts

Feedback on other Mapei grouts highlights their durability and performance in demanding environments. Epoxy grouts receive commendations for their chemical resistance and longevity.

Case Studies and Real-world Applications

Mapei Avalanche

Projects utilizing Mapei Avalanche include high-end residential bathrooms, luxury kitchens, and commercial spaces where a pristine appearance is essential.

Other Mapei Grouts

Case studies for Mapei’s epoxy and hybrid grouts showcase their use in industrial kitchens, healthcare facilities, and swimming pools, demonstrating their robustness and versatility.

Expert Opinions

Mapei Avalanche

Industry experts endorse Mapei Avalanche for its user-friendliness and superior aesthetics. It is recommended for projects where appearance and ease of maintenance are key considerations.

Other Mapei Grouts

Experts recognize the advanced performance of Mapei’s epoxy and hybrid grouts, particularly in settings requiring high chemical resistance and durability.

FAQs

What makes Mapei Avalanche different from other Mapei grouts? Mapei Avalanche is a high-performance cementitious grout known for its bright white color and smooth finish, ideal for aesthetic-focused projects.

Is Mapei Avalanche suitable for wet areas? Yes, Mapei Avalanche offers good water resistance, but using a sealer is recommended for enhanced protection in wet areas.

How does the cost of Mapei Avalanche compare to other grouts? Mapei Avalanche is competitively priced, providing good value for its performance and aesthetic qualities. Epoxy and hybrid grouts tend to be more expensive due to their advanced properties.

Can Mapei Avalanche resist stains and mold? Yes, Mapei Avalanche is formulated to resist stains and inhibit mold and mildew growth, making it suitable for various environments.

What types of projects are best suited for Mapei Avalanche? Mapei Avalanche is ideal for residential bathrooms, kitchens, and commercial spaces where a clean, bright appearance is desired.

Are there any environmental benefits to using Mapei Avalanche? Mapei Avalanche has low VOC content, contributing to a healthier indoor environment and aligning with sustainable building practices.

Conclusion

Choosing the right grout is essential for the success and longevity of your tiling project. Mapei Grout Avalanche stands out for its bright white color, smooth finish, and ease of use, making it a preferred choice for aesthetic-focused projects. Other Mapei grouts, including epoxy and hybrid options, offer enhanced durability and specialized performance for demanding environments. By understanding the differences and selecting the appropriate grout for your needs, you can ensure a beautiful and long-lasting result.

[romanshomeonwattpad]

Girl in New York | 2

pairings - art donaldson/reader | challengers au! |

“_ _" = Y/N

next chapter| masterslist | last chapter

sypnosis - things with Art begin to pick up.

warnings - future smut, angst, cheating, smut next chapter omg

word count - 2k

© elliotsblunt 2024. do not repost, modify or translate.

Art and Patrick had seemed to get along too well.

With your arms crossed, clearly irritated, Art and your cousin were reminiscing old times. As soon as the two reconnected, they hadn’t stop talking since. Chuckling and playing with each others balls. All the same. Standing in the sun made you thirsty, so instead of being ignored, you picked up the dignity on the ground you had left and went to buy a water bottle from the stand.

Rolling your eyes behind your sunglasses, you mentally cursed out your cousin. He was a social butterfly—so he knew practically everybody somehow. And when he ended up in a convo, it would at least half an hour for reality to him himself. But at the same time, he was a fantastic smoking buddy.

“What can I get you?” A boy with pretty brown eyes sends you a charming smile. Your fingers drum against the counter, biting on your bottom lip. A smirk is held back as you notice his eyes flicker to your breasts, grateful you decided to wear a low cut black crop top.

“Hi….” you pull down your sunglasses, spotting his name tag. His name was printed in bold red letters, which matched his red polo uniform top.

“…Chris. Just a water is fine,” you say in a slight flirty tone, pulling your phone out from your purse. It was too hot to put inside your bra, and it would’ve been all sweaty and gross. “Do you accept Apple Pay?”

He shakes his head, “It’s on the house. Here,” he hands you the water, winking. You send him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, handsome. A face like yours deserves a tip.”

“Your number sounds good too,” he flirts back, causing you to giggle. You noticed a tattoo hidden behind his ear, an arrow with vines growing around it. And to match the vibe, a stud on the left side of his nose.

You hum, “Hm. Always had a thing for bad boys. Gimme your phone.”

It was almost hilarious how quickly he pulled out his cell from his back jeans pocket. You had to place a hand over your mouth to refrain from laughing, quickly putting your number into his phone. As you were typing the final digits, you look away from the phone to see your cousin.

“Jesus Christ….stop thotting it up and let’s play ball,” Patrick groans as he approaches you two, Art following behind him. Apparently they were finished conversating, but that wasn’t what stood out to you. What did was the fact that Art was staring down the kid Chase…Chad—whatever his name was.

His usually crystal clear eyes were brewing up a storm, a gray hue taking over his orbs. His lips were in a firm line, and when you handed his phone back to him and blew him a kiss, Art’s upper lip twitched. It was subtle—but you noticed. You noticed everything.

Screwing open your water bottle, you took a sip as Patrick nudged Art on the shoulder. “_ _ told me you’re still with Tiff,” he states as the three of you walk back into the court. “How are things going with her? Still a raging bitch?”

Art chuckles, shaking his head as he took a particularly large gulp from his hydro flask. You watched with attentive eyes as he screwed his cap back on, “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just call my girlfriend a bitch. And we’re doing fine—thanks.”

“Sorry, man.” Patrick sheepishly smiles, “Why don’t you come to this outing with us on Sunday night. It’s downtown at some club. Bring your girlfriend and we’ll meet you guys there.”

Way to go, Pat. Sounds like he wasn’t a cockblock after all. But it did scare you a bit when you noticed the pondering look on Art’s face. His features were tight, his pearly white teeth catching his lower lip. It almost looked cute—how conflicted he was almost made you anxious.

Patrick sensed his second thoughts. “How about this. 1 V 1. If I win, your ass better show up.”

Like you said, it was hard for anyone to say no to Patrick.

Art glanced at you, and when you only sent him a smirk, he released a deep sigh before giving in.

“Deal.”

Pat had to leave in the middle of practice. Something came up with work—he was a dj for this club back in East Boston. He always loved music, and was jotting down lyrics, so it made sense he was working in that field.

Wiping your forehead with your personal towel, you watched as Art lifted his shirt over his head and dried his abs. Your mouth almost fell open, his slick muscles contracting as fresh air hit them. His upper body was tan, but as it grew closer to his lower region, the skin turned into an untouched milky section of flesh. Yellow fibers of hair trailed down beneath his shorts, making you poke out your tongue and lick your lips hungrily.

His blonde strands fell over his eyes. “You’re getting better.”

“I have a good teacher,” you tease, but he didn’t smile, snorting instead. “How many students do you have.”

“Just you and another girl.”

Another girl? Interesting. “Is she pretty?”

“I have a girlfriend, _ _.”

“And she’s where? C’mon, you can tell me,” you cooed, putting back on your shades. Popping another lollipop into your mouth, this time blueberry flavor, his eyes flickered to your lips.

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but as your tongue swirled around the top of the candy ball—he cleared his throat instead. You batted your lashes as you hummed at his silence.

“Hm?”

“She’s cute, I guess.” He muttered, not even hiding the fact he was looking at your lips as if he had was starved.

You tilted your head, eyes flying down to his crotch. Behind his dark blue shorts was a bulge forming. It dented against the fabric. “That guy I talked to—he was super cute. Might bring him to the party,” you thought aloud, making him stiffen his shoulders. “What do you think of him?”

He looked away from you, jaw clenched.

“Not my business.”

“All I’m asking for is an opinion.”

“It’s not like we’re friends,” he snapped coldly, sending you narrowed eyes. Ice had taken over those once clear orbs, and it felt like he had grown distant within a second. You swallowed thickly as he snatched snatched bag off the chair.

“I have to go. Later.”

What’s his deal?

“I just don’t understand you, _ _. We paid for these classes and now you’re failing them because of these stupid tennis lessons.” Your mother then released an exasperated sigh, rubbing her forehead as your father throws down your latest report card. He continued, “Two B’s and one C. You used to be a straight A student!”

You furrowed your brows, hating those words. Your gut dropped. “Dad, please. I’ll get my gra—“

“You’re going to be a surgeon, not a tennis player.” Your mother pointed a stern finger at you. This is the angriest you had ever seen her. Usually she would be the one to call down your father, but this time, they were both hounding you. When it came to grades, they stressed because they prioritized money for school. Your school.

Your father had came from his home country when he was a teenager on a visa, and grew a business in the end. He worked very hard to supply you with the food and shelter you needed, and it was a miracle public school was free. But as you got older, his business flourished, and he could put more of his income towards your nursing classes.

To become a nurse was always his idea. Ever since you had been born, he pinned that title on you. Your mother agreed because she learned it made you a lot of money.

“This isn’t fair. It’s once a week.”

“And so are your in person classes, and they’re on Tuesdays.”

“Let me ask him if I can change the day,” you begged your parents, putting a sweet tone behind your voice. Your father wasn’t budging—but your mother nodded and held your father’s hand as if to say it’s fine. But he didn’t want to let you off that easily.

“If he can’t change the day, cancel the lessons.”

His words nerve wrecked you. But it should’ve been fine. The only problem was—you didn’t have his number.

“Hey, Pat. Give me Art’s number.”

You heard him laugh through the phone, “Hey to you too, bitch. And stalker much?”

Rolling your eyes, you continued styling your hair whilst looking in the mirror. The speaker on your phone broke out for a second before you responded. “I need to ask him something. It can’t wait until next week. Just—please.”

“He didn’t give it to you?”

“What are you? His personal body guard? Give me the damn number, Pat.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll text it to you rn.”

You smiled in triumph, unplugging the bedazzled black straightener before snatching your cell from the counter. Without letting Pat know you’d call him later, you simply hung up on him, clicking the contact he sent. After pressing the call button—it proceeded to ring. Then his voice sounded.

“….Hello?” Ugh. It was his girlfriend.

This was going to be weird. “Uh, hey. Is Art around?”

“He ’s in the shower. I can give him a message.”

Bitch.

Whatever. “Cool. Unless he can change our usual Wednesday and Thursday schedule—my dad wants me to cancel my lessons. So I need his response like ASAP.”

“Of course I can tell him. Who is this?”

“_ _ Smith.”

There was a silence, and then her voice rang in the phone. “I’ll let him know.”

The phone clicked.

In the incoming week, you received a text from him.

Hey, it’s Art. I’m sorry but I can’t readjust my schedule. It was nice working with you. Let me know if you’re ever interested in working with me again!

Oh.

It looks like he really didn’t like you.

It wasn’t surprising, but for some odd reason—this one hurt a little. And instead of pushing you to chase him a bit more, you retracted away all together. He had made it clear he wasn’t interested in you at all. At this point, to keep pining after him would shatter all shards of dignity you have left.

Today was Sunday. You contemplated on even going, but Patrick would literally decapitate you. It’s his last night out and you promised to go out with him at least once when his trip rolled around. But you weren’t in the mood to party. You didn’t feel sexy enough.

This was all supposed to be a fun game. And now it’s turning into a nightmare.

You really didn’t think he meant it when he said you two weren’t friends. Was he trying to keep a professional relationship for the sake of his girlfriend? You didn’t imagine the friendly moments between the two of you. The fleeting glances, hidden stares. Lingering touches when passing the hydros.

Blowing out the cigarette, you leaned on Pat’s shoulder as he wrote lyrics down on his notepad. He slightly hummed to his own melody. “You’re fucking indie ass is going back in two days. I fucking hate you,” you mutter, causing him to gasp before laughing out loud. “Can I go inside your suitcase? I wanna leave here soooo bad Patty cakes.”

“I fucking hate that nickname, but love that top on you.” He gestured to the cropped forest green sweater you were wearing. It balanced perfectly well with your high-waisted leather black skirt.

“Is it giving slutty?”

“Gross.”

“Perfect.”

[dlife]

Contemporary Tea Table Concepts for Stylish Environments

In the world of interior design, the tea table has evolved from a mere utilitarian piece to a statement element that can define the ambiance of a living space. Contemporary tea table concepts are not just about functionality; they are about style, innovation, and creating a focal point in stylish environments. As we delve into the latest trends, it becomes clear that these tables are versatile pieces capable of transforming any room into a chic and inviting space. Read everything about contemporary tea table concepts compiled by our interior designers in Mysore .

The Rise of Minimalism

Minimalism continues to dominate the interior design landscape, and contemporary tea tables are no exception. Sleek, simple lines and a focus on quality materials define this trend. Think of a low-profile, matte-finished table that effortlessly complements a minimalist living room, or a glass tea table that adds a touch of sophistication without overwhelming the space. These tables often feature hidden storage compartments, offering functionality without compromising on style.

Industrial Chic

The industrial design aesthetic brings an edgy, raw vibe to interiors, and tea tables in this category are all about mixing materials and textures. A combination of wood and metal, perhaps with a hint of concrete, creates a robust yet stylish piece. These tables often showcase the beauty of their construction, with exposed screws and metal frames becoming part of the allure. Perfect for loft-style apartments or any space aiming for a modern, industrial feel.

Organic Shapes and Natural Materials

As more homeowners seek to bring the outdoors in, organic shapes and natural materials have become increasingly popular in tea table designs. Curved edges, irregular shapes, and the use of wood, stone, or bamboo create a warm, earthy feel. These tables not only serve as functional pieces but also as works of art, adding character and a sense of tranquility to any room.

Multifunctional and Modular Designs

With the growing need for adaptable furniture in today's dynamic living spaces, multifunctional and modular tea tables are on the rise. These designs offer flexibility, allowing homeowners to adjust their layout according to their needs. Some tables come with detachable trays, while others can be expanded or reconfigured into different shapes. This trend caters to the modern lifestyle, where efficiency and adaptability are key.

Bold Colors and Patterns

While neutral tones remain popular, there's a growing appetite for bold colors and patterns in contemporary tea table designs. Vibrant hues, geometric patterns, or even graffiti-inspired art can turn a simple tea table into a striking statement piece. This trend is perfect for those looking to inject personality and flair into their interiors, challenging the conventional and embracing the unique.

Sustainability at the Forefront

Sustainability is no longer a niche trend but a significant consideration in the world of interior design. Contemporary tea tables made from recycled materials, sustainably sourced wood, or eco-friendly composites are gaining popularity. These pieces not only look good but also offer a feel-good factor, knowing that they contribute positively to the environment.

Contemporary tea table concepts are diverse, innovative, and reflective of the evolving tastes and lifestyles of homeowners today. From minimalist designs that speak volumes with their simplicity to bold, artistic pieces that command attention, there's a tea table for every type of stylish environment. When in doubt, make sure to seek guidance from professional interior designers in India to give you unique insights into the contemporary tea table world. As we continue to see a blend of aesthetics, functionality, and sustainability, it's clear that the humble tea table will remain a key player in the interior design scene, bringing both style and substance to our living spaces.

[swiftplasticpallets-blog]

Essential Facts About Injection Moulded Pallets

Injection Moulded Plastic Pallet manufacturing has advanced throughout time, with businesses working hard to utilize the latest technologies. The technique aims to optimize the parts, enhancing their thickness and structure, lowering their weight, boosting their longevity, and creating ever-more intricate patterns. Today, there are several methods for producing plastic pallets, making it often challenging to decide which way would improve our company’s supply chain’s efficiency the most. Injection, thermoforming, blowing, compression, and roto-molding are some of the most popular manufacturing methods we can find today.

The packaging company of pallets firmly believes that plastic pallet injection manufacturing ensures the quality of every one of our goods. Moreover, it adheres to our corporate core principles of sustainability and environmental care.

What are the main benefits of each available injection molding form?

One of the most common procedures for giving this material the desired form and size is the manufacture of plastic pallets using injection. For large-scale production, especially when maintaining stability and uniformity over time is necessary for the same pallet design, this method proves ideal.

Through a hopper, the plastic is fed into the machinery. The frictional force and heating bands melt the plastic. The heating chamber discharges the hot plastic through a nozzle into a cavity or mold, where a refrigeration system cools and solidifies it. The pallet will then assume the shape of the attached mold.

Various injection system types

Injection moulding plastic pallets use two different production procedures: low-pressure and high-pressure systems. Each of them has unique qualities and benefits.

1. Low-pressure apparatus

In this instance, the mold cavity receives the introduction of the plastic substance and inert gas. That is to say, a gas that doesn’t cause the importance to be introduced to react chemically. In this process, typically, carbon dioxide or nitrogen activates the blowing agents in the polypropylene/polyethylene combination through heating, creating a stiff plastic material enclosing a cellular core.

2. High-pressure injection molding

High-density polyethylene (HDPE) or polypropylene (PP) plastic pallets are frequently made using high-pressure injection technology. It is a very accurate method that leaves a high gloss surface and doesn’t need any additional treatment.

In this production process, the raw material is heated to 250 degrees Celsius within a barrel with a spinning screw. Once it reaches the desired temperature, the machine injects the plastic into a mold. Here, it holds it under pressure, cools it, and then expels it at the other end. Therefore, the high-pressure injection molding method is the best choice when you require a plastic pallet with outstanding features.

Tailored Plastic Pallet Production: Professional Guidance for Every Business Need

1. Raw Materials Preparation.

Start with the stock’s raw elements. The following often accept five hundred kilos or one tonne. The following is a combination known as a formula. Permit mixing of the same hue. Inject the plastic pellets into the mixture and incorporate the color from the formula bundle. Heat the mixture to prevent warping of the plastic pallets in each injection lot. Part 2 then appeared.

2. Mold Alteration

Once the mold has been made, the mold department must be contacted, or the mold must be changed. Turn on the injection molding device for plastic. CANE must be utilized to transfer the mold from the lifting or moving mold to the injection molding machine. The injection department’s role is to perform this. Mounting the mold to the injection machine for plastic pallets involves coupling the mold to the coolant pipe.Cold molded plastic creates an injection moulded plastic pallet.

3. Adjustment in Injection Moulded Plastic Pallet

The majority of them are chiefs in the injection department. This will change around the time of the injection. A robot will be adjusted to handle and remove plastic pallets from the mold, and the quantity of plastic pallets required to create a full plastic pallet will be modified to align with the injection cycle.

4. Plastic Injection for Pallets.

The injection process initially injects a substantial amount of plastic pallets. Because plastic is still in its early stages, plastic pallets are not ideal. Plastic injection molding is insufficient. Furthermore, the machinery employed in plastic injection molding must undergo tuning. Such as changing the injection time and heating the syringe. Slower to provide more time for the polymers to flow into the mold. Additionally, they will begin to minimize the injection time each time they inject 1–10 plastic pallets into a whole exercise, making the process quicker. To be able to provide additional injections each hour.

5. Pallet Cuts made of Plastic.

The quality control division determines which injection moulded plastic pallet require customization. This includes tasks such as removing any protruding fins and runners cleanly. Plastic pallets may also incorporate rubber and plastic sealing. Quality control checks are conducted on plastic pallets before they are delivered to the warehouse.

6. Quality Check of Plastic Pallets before Warehouse Delivery

Does the Quality Assurance Department have a quality checklist to ensure that the injected plastic pallets are good enough to turn clients away? We will identify the reject plastic pallets, which require mending, as soon as we assess the quality if the plastic pallets are not superior. However, clients can still deliver orders using plastic pallets that have previously received an injection for inspection—delivered to the warehouse in preparation for client delivery.

Conclusion

Injection systems with high and low pressures are crucial to producing plastic pallets. The industry opted for this method of production for its plastic pallets because, over the past several years, there has been a trend in the plastic injection industry towards equipment that is quieter, smaller, faster, and with a reduced environmental impact. Additionally, these advancements have led to more controlled hydraulic systems and energy consumption.