#someone is trying to take that away from him while hes doing his best for mikey to have the best birthday ever?

[beesandwasps]

When I got to be a senior at St. Leon’s College, I was given my very own studio. It was a tiny room in a creaky old wooden shedlike building. Here I was to work on my senior project, a series of woodblock prints. I found, left behind by previous inhabitants, a dangerous electric percolator and a squawky old radio. I loved having a studio of my own, and spent most of my time there. I’d arrive at ten or eleven at night and stay till dawn, chiseling away at my woodblocks, swilling black coffee, and listening to the all-night hillbilly station. At sunrise I’d stroll to my room, where I would sleep until lunchtime. I had signed up only for classes that met in the afternoon, and I had time in the evening to socialize and study before retiring to my little workshop. The rest of the college would be sleeping when I was at work, and I had no distractions. I was getting a lot accomplished. It was an ideal routing, and I was happy. It was during this period that the President of the United States was assassinated. Today, documentaries and news retrospectives emphasize the shock and grief felt by the nation — but I also remember the fear and confusion that closely followed the event. At first it was unclear whether or not the assassination was part of a coup or insurrection. News reports were vague and fragmentary. There was speculation as to whether our country’s enemies might not take advantage of the confusion of the moment and attack us. I hovered near the radio and learned of the capture of Oswald and later of his murder before the news cameras. Lyndon Johnson had been sworn in as President. Harry S. Truman flew to Washington, and from the airport, broadcast a statement assuring the country that the orderly succession of government was intact. It was two or three days before the feeling of panic and uncertainty died down. And the whole time, I was listening — while carving away at woodblocks, because there was nothing else to do. I was realizing that events can become ugly with a terrifying suddenness — and that I, personally, had nothing to contribute in times like these. There were advisors in Southeast Asia. There was a wall in Berlin. We had nearly had a nuclear war over missiles in Cuba. People were being fire-hosed and police-dogged in the South. Now someone had knocked off the First Citizen of the Republican — and I was learning to do what? I was learning to make things for rich people to decorate their apartments with. I felt useless and stupid. As the assassination hysteria subsided, I continued to come to the studio, but it seemed to me an empty exercise. Worse, a mockery. In times like these, the last thing needed was a little more art. Then, one 2:00 A.M., a fellow student dropped in to see me. Jerry Schwartz was his name. I knew him by sight, but had never spoken with him. He had something to tell me. It seemed Schwartz had gone through a period of living the life of a swine. He had been in the habit of coming home drunk at approximately the same time every morning. And every morning, he’d see the light in my studio, and through the window, me, doing… he didn’t know what, but there I was doing it. He felt that here was at least one person doing something probably constructive — anyway, functioning. It somehow meant to him that there was hope for him too. In the parlance of Alcoholics Anonymous, the image of the light in my studio window had become his higher power, had kept him from despairing, motivated him to try to straighten out — and, as he told it, may have prevented his taking his own life. I thought he was probably exaggerating, but I couldn’t take the chance. Now I had to show up every night, and work on my woodcuts in order not to let down this formerly miserable Schwartz. I didn’t see Schwartz again, but I finished out the year and got my degree. And gradually I became convinced that the best way I could address the big evils of the big world would be to keep chipping away and something comparatively small.

— Daniel M. Pinkwater (from Chicago Days, Hoboken Nights)

[jjkbambi]

can i rec lulu dating a humanities major, specifically english/professional writing? i saw someone say that he’d love a partner who wasn’t into CS so he could learn more about their viewpoint on things, and i think with how much he likes to read, he’d find them rly special💌

luigi as your college crush ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

<3 meeting you @ book club! he always recommends strange nonfictions (last time he suggested you all read the unabomber’s manifesto?), so it’s not too hard to get your attention.

<3 very small hi hellos at first, you think he’s too smart and he thinks you’re too pretty

<3 notices you always get iced lattes before showing up to meetings, so he starts showing up to the same cafe hoping to run into u even tho he doesn’t like coffee

<3 when you do finally run into each other he acts like it’s some sort of a huge coincidence, smiling ear-to-ear while asking you how your day is.

<3 you’re like what’d you order and he’s like “ i didn’t order anything 🤓 coffee kills! it’s overpriced and addictive and- ”

wait so why are u here???

“the ambiance!!!”🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

<3 walking you to meetings, insists on walking you home, and now he’s insistent on carrying your books around campus, even when it’s just a small notebook—it’s the gentlemanly thing to do

<3 and once he gets enough yes’s out of you, he’s around you all the time, texting you nonstop

<3 he’s honestly kinda weird

from luigi Are you in the humanities building right now?

to luigi no I didn’t go to class today

3 missed calls from luigi

<3 always looking over your shoulder when you pull out your phone

<3 inviting you on his morning runs so you get to see him shirtless

<3 if you can’t make it to the morning runs, he shows up to ur dorm after shirtless and SWEATY with your morning coffeee!!!

<3 god forbid you mention your ex-boyfriend or situationship. his face drops immediately and he’s immediately made a mental note to look him up later

<3 ur ex liked to cook??? all of a sudden his goodreads is flooded w an unprecedented amount of cookbooks. none of ur exes have facial hair??? he’s shaveddddd down. ur ex is in the most popular frat on campus??? luigi just joined the one across the street and pays for the most expensive djs and catering … ur ex plays for the penn football team??? the coach just found coke in his backpack :3

<3 doesn’t really use instagram but is always active after you post

<3 introducing himself to your parents on friends and family day, particularly smiley when your parents ask you if you’re dating

<3 + 1 million confidence increase once he knows your parents like him. expect a bunch of stuff like “your mom said you didn’t like seafood?!?!” when did you and my mom talk about that?!!!!

<3 obsessed with touching you. your hair your hands your waist

<3 is so scared to ask you out

<3 not too scared to tell everyone he knows that you’re already dating. and he knows a lot of people

you’re always on call with him like pep, everyone thinks we’re dating T-T and he’s just like yeah Lol super weird 🤗

<3 sometimes he can’t make plans bc hes been dealing w a lot of back pain lately so you suggest going to a korean spa downtown together!

<3 trying his best to look away from you in the sauna

<3 so fucking hard underneath his robe he has to “leave” “to take a call”

after a while you call him and ask him where he went but he doesn’t answer

from luigi Come to the showers

[adumbratrapedme]

“Caught, Almost!”

Pairing: kenma x reader

Synopsis: you and kenma. needy. school grounds. almost caught. ok? ok.

Warnings: “public” sex, smut, +18, p in v, etc. idk im too lazy to properly tag this uhhh, is my first time writing smut cuz i usually get too nervous while writting it ngl (i take constructive criticism, sooo point out what i could do better. thank you!). nyan!

╭⋅Tbh not even you know how you guys enfed like this huh ╭⋅You where supossed to JUST GO AND FIND YOUR BOYFRIEND that was skipping practice (again) ╭⋅He was tired you know?? You guys just finished exam season and! He got a new game! Common!! Let my man rest!! ╭⋅Anyways, you didn’t care, sorry ken ken, disadvantages of having a manager gf unu ╭⋅So, tbh i would never take kenken as someone that has public sex? But i mean lets try to understand him ok? A full exam week, no gf, no kisses and the only opportunities you had to get together he got cockblocked! Wether it was his or you family ╭⋅When you finally find him sitting in his desk playing with the psp you try to pull him away but he does not comply! ╭⋅Until well… you get irritated and start saying that you’d do anything he wants!! ╭⋅So here we go :3

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Kenma~!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty halls as you searched for your elusive boyfriend. Frustration bubbled inside you, and just as you were about to give up, a familiar mop of pudding-colored hair caught your eye through the window of an empty classroom. “UGH! THERE YOU ARE!!” you huffed, storming into the room, Kenma flinched at your sudden outburst, his eyes still glued to his handheld console. "You're still looking for me? So... practice isn't over yet? Great..." he muttered under his breath, clearly bothered by the situation.

"Honeyyyy~" you groaned dramatically as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. He didn't budge, his fingers tapping away at the buttons, “keEeeEn~” you whined, playfully trying to push him out of the chair.

"Come on! Kuroo is going to kill me if I don't bring you back!"

Still no reaction.

You leaned in closer, pressing your cheek against his. "Do you really want your beaaauuutiful girlfriend to fail at her manager duties, huh?"

Kenma finally sighed, his gaze never leaving the screen. "

...If it means

you'll leave me alone, then... sure."

"UGH! Kenmaaaa!" you pouted, slumping dramatically in front of him.

Dropping to your knees and hugging his legs you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes. "Please?"

His fingers faltered for a second.

"You're so annoying.." he muttered, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After what felt like hours (okay, maybe just ten minutes) of begging and pressing Kenma to go to practice, you finally hit your limit. Refusing to stand from your spot on the floor, you crossed your arms and gave him your best fake teary eyes, complete with a trembling pout.

“Fine then… let them fire me from my manager position,” you huffed dramatically. Kenma finally glanced down at you, his expression flat. “Y/N… this isn’t a job. They won’t fire you.”

But then — ngh! — his gaze lingered. The sight of you sitting on the floor, all pouty and vulnerable? That triggered something in his brain.

Neurons? Activated.

Kenma? Horny

Y/n? Annoyed

Crops? Watered.

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he averted his gaze, but his voice softened. “But… maybe there’s something we can do… if you really want me to go back to practice.” Your eyes lit up. “YAS! I knew it!” You leapt from the floor, wrapping your arms around him in excitement. “Come on, tell me! I’ll do anything you want!”

Kenma blinked, momentarily stunned by your enthusiasm, before a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well… you know how we haven’t been able to spend much time together lately?” You nodded eagerly, not missing the way his voice dipped into a quieter tone.

“And how every time we try to be alone… someone interrupts us?” he added, glancing at you briefly before looking away again, the blush deepening.

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, heart thumping in anticipation. Kenma cleared his throat. “Well… maybe we can do it now.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait… here?” “The school’s practically empty,” he murmured, setting his PSP down on the desk. “Only a few clubs and… maybe a janitor. But if we’re careful…”

He finally looked back at you, and the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“You serious?” you whispered.

Kenma leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Only if you want to.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

So... in the end, you gave in—how could you possibly resist that pudding-colored mop of hair? And now, here you are, in this exact moment.

You're leaning over his desk, your hands pressing against the surface.

Honestly, you feel a little exposed. Your boyfriend's behind you, and you can feel his gaze, while all you can see is what's right in front of you. You feel his cold hand lift your skirt, the breeze of his breath hitting your core, making you shiver just a little..

"just look at this, huh kitten? i barely even told you what i wanted and you are this wet already?” he said as he pulled down at your underwear, “ so eager to please me huh?” He said leaning into you and giving your ear a few kitten licks.

"P-Please, Kenma," you whispered, a hint of shame in your voice. Doing this in school? It felt so forbidden, so sinful. But deep down, you couldn't deny it — you'd been waiting for this moment just as much as he had.

To be honest, Kenma had wanted to tease you a little longer, but even he couldn't hold back. After the past week of restraint, he was too pent up to keep it inside any longer.

"So whiny..." he murmured while placing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, while one of his hands ran down your shirt until he reached your breasts, the way he squeezed them was very rough, but it was the right one for that moment, his hand was massaging them and the other was busy unbuckling his belt.

"I'm sorry darling..." he whispered into your ear while holding his member with one hand and rubbing it against your entrance earning a soft moan from you "you know that normally I would go slowly but... I don't think there's enough time for that right now"

You nodded in agreement, eager to feel him inside you, you hadn't realized how much you needed this, how much you missed his hands, his kisses and his caresses...

Just when you were lost in your thoughts a sudden pressure at your entrance made you yelp, Kenma's hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulled you closer. His breathing was uneven, his gaze heavy with desire as he leaned in.

"Ahh... Y/N..." His voice came out low and hoarse, roughened by the tension building between you. He pushed in deeper, his movements purposeful, each one making you gasp as your body adjusted to him. "You're so tight... nghh..." The way he muttered it, half a groan and half a breathless confession, made your stomach flutter.

A whimper escaped you, soft and broken, your lower lip trembling as you tried to speak through the haze. "K-Kenma... it's so big, I-"

Before you could finish, he picked up his pace, each movement making you lose more control over your voice. You couldn't stop the sounds slipping from your lips, and just as quickly, he silenced you with a kiss - rough, needy, possessive. "I like you better when you just moan for me," he mumbled against your lips, his voice low and commanding.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, making you melt into his touch.

You could feel the tension in your body rising fast, and by the way Kenma gripped you, he could feel it too. The way you clenched around him made him groan softly, his head dropping to your shoulder as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving faint marks behind.

Normally, he would slow down - tease you, drag things out until you were begging for more. But this time, he couldn't hold back. His own release was close, and it showed in the way his thrusts grew more erratic, rocking the desk beneath you as he pushed deeper.

"Fuck... baby..." His voice was husky, strained, filled with urgency as he buried himself in you. "I'm really close..."

You couldn't hold back your own moans any longer. The intensity of his movements, the weight of his body against your back, the sound of his voice — it was all too much. You didn't care if anyone could hear, if anyone walked by. All that mattered was him.

Kenma's fingers tightened their grip on your hips, his forehead pressed to yours as he pushed you both toward the edge. His heart was racing, his breath ragged in your ear, and you could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter.

"Kenma... please." you whimpered, your voice trembling as you clung to him, your body shaking from the overwhelming sensation.

He groaned softly at the sound of his name falling from your lips, his movements never faltering. He could feel how close you were — he always knew your body better than you did.

And though his usual control would have him drawing things out, this time he couldn't stop. His release was so close, right there, and he didn't want to hold back.

Twenty minutes in, and he already had you falling apart twice. But still, he kept going, chasing that final high — for both of you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Kenma's forehead rested against your back, his breath hot and uneven as you both tried to steady yourselves.

His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns under your skirt, a stark contrast to the urgency from moments before. There was a softness in his gaze now, something tender beneath the layers of intensity that still lingered in the air between you.

"Are you okay?" he murmured quietly, his voice softer, more familiar. The concern in his tone made your heart ache in the best way, and you nodded, lips curling into a faint smile.

"I'm okay," you whispered, though your voice still trembled slightly from the aftershocks, your body now fully resting in the desk in a weak attempt of catching your breath.

Kenma's lips twitched into a small smile at your answer. He wasn't always great with words, but his actions said enough. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you before before turning you around, facing each other, his forehead brushing yours in a quiet moment of calm.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence was comfortable, filled only with the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint creak of the desk beneath you. His thumbs rubbed lazy circles over your skin, grounding both of you as you melted into each other. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" he asked after a moment, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. It wasn't like him to ask, but there was something different in the way he looked at you now — more vulnerable, more open.

You shook your head, cupping his face gently. "No... it was perfect," you said softly, and you meant it.

Kenma sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned into your touch.

His lips pressed a lingering kiss to your palm before he pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around you like he couldn't bear to let go just yet. "You make me feel things I never thought l'd want," he admitted quietly, his voice almost shy. "I've never... wanted someone like this before."

The honesty in his words made your chest tighten, and you couldn't help but smile as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered against his skin. "You don't have to be afraid of wanting me."

Kenma's arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His heart was pounding against yours, steady and strong.

What you both thought would be a peaceful moment didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped. For a brief second, you let yourselves forget that you were still on school grounds, thinking you could steal a quiet moment together. But reality quickly came crashing back in the form of a loud, obnoxious voice that both of you knew all too well.

"KENMAAAAAA... Y/N!" Kuroo’s voice echoed through the hallways, sharp and unmistakable as he called out for you two. It was impossible to ignore. You exchanged a glance, both of you groaning internally.

"Come on, Y/N, I trusted you!" Kuroo’s voice whined from further down the hall, his footsteps growing louder as he approached.

"Shit," Kenma muttered, clearly irritated. He quickly pulled away from you, his eyes darting around in panic. "We should hurry," he added, his tone serious now.

Both of you scrambled to adjust yourselves. Kenma straightened his uniform with a quick tug at his collar, while you did the same at your skirt. You couldn’t help but glance at Kenma, biting your lip in a mix of amusement and slight concern.

"Do I have sex hair?" you asked, half joking but also genuinely curious, Kenma paused for a split second, giving you a once-over before shrugging. "Hmm... maybe just a little," he said nonchalantly, brushing his fingers through your hair to tame it.

"Great," you muttered, pushing your hair back into place as the sound of Kuroo’s voice drew closer. You had to think fast before he found you both in the hallway, and judging by the way Kenma was glancing nervously in the direction of the noise, he was already calculating your next move.

You both braced yourselves for what would surely be an uncomfortable encounter, wondering if this "moment of peace" was truly ever meant to be.

[jester-lover]

Batfam with a Desi! S/O

CWs: Fem! aligned reader discussions of discrimination, angst, spoilers, but overall fluff

AN: I'm desi and I rarely see desi! reader content out here, so I felt the need to deliver, would love feedback! Also, I'm very new to the Batfamily dynamic, so please don't think anything OOC is intentional.

Bruce

You’ve got to be a really smart person to catch his eye; when you’ve got him, he’s absolutely ensnared by you. Bruce worships the damn ground you walk on, and he respects your culture from the get-go.

As a businessman, he’s met people from all countries. He knows how to behave respectfully towards your family without much nagging. By that I mean, he’ll take his shoes off when he gets to your place.

You know those big gold bangles and accessories you’ve always wanted? You’ll get them. Bruce knows what an investment gold can be, and he’s insistent on only the best for you.

Desi culture is very family-oriented, and while at first, he’s a little put off by how close everyone is, he warms up to it. Your family adores him because they know he can take care of you, and he actually puts in effort to connect with your identity.

He encourages you to wear traditional clothes to every press event you attend, and whenever you’re at desi events together, he’ll wear a kurta too. Imagine going to a desi wedding with a billionaire in tow, and he starts throwing hundreds on the dance floor lol.

You worry about him regarding his double life, but he tries to keep the crime in Gotham away from you the best he can.

Dick

He’s so down bad about you his own teammates make fun of him for it.

Dick would see you doing something like oiling your hair and beg to try it out too, so now you oil his hair once weekly. He tells everyone it’s a secret, but they all know it got better as soon as he was with you.

He would love watching sappy old Bollywood/Tollywood movies with you; the plots and slang might be outdated, but he loves the ornateness of it all. Like he’s a sucker for good background and costume design.

Your family loves how much attention he pays to himself and his body, and he practically soaks in the adoration of any number of little cousins he can pick up and spin around at family functions.

Speaking of functions, you know he’s gonna be in the middle of the dance floor. Does he know even a single song or move? Absolutely he does not, but is he gonna try to replicate SRK from his heart? Yes, he is.

He might shed a little tear the first time he sees you in traditional clothes; you just look so pretty to him. He loves seeing you in lehengas and saris, especially the long, flowy fabric that makes you look like a princess to him.

Jason

I really don’t think your family would like him at first, but he’s committed to you, and he’s gonna be with you as long as you’ll have him. He’ll happily immerse himself in your culture and eventually gain their trust, albeit, hanging on a thread.

Similarly to Dick, he’ll ask for you to try oiling his hair, but he’d love oiling your hair too, helping you tend to it during slow days. 

While none of the other people here would be quiet in the face of you facing discrimination, Jason would be the most willing to cause equal or worse harm. God forbid someone acts rude or racist towards you; they will find their lives slowly falling apart around them. From flat tires to burnt-down houses, he will willingly cause misery for those who have upset you over something you couldn’t possibly control.

Loves to help you cook; seeing a dish come together makes him feel all domestic and giddy inside. Even if it’s something simple, like a cup of chai or basic daal, he loves the richness of the flavors and spice. His spice tolerance is also high, so you don’t need to make your shared meals blander.

Worrying about clothes is a little out of his general interest, but he loves how opulent your traditional clothes are, like the amount of attention to detail and elegance. He thinks you look pretty even after the event, shoes in hand and hair messy after dancing for hours. He’ll carry you to the car if you ask him.

On the topic of clothes, Jason would look so gorgeous in a silky black kurta; I just know it.

Tim

One of my favorite gora pakoras.

He’d love to visit your country of origin someday; warm weather, good food, meeting your extended family—it’s all great for him.

Loves desi sweets so much. His favorites are mostly kulfi and syrupy treats like gulab jamun, but he loves snacks like pakoras.

This is the boy you want to bring home; he’s smart, self-reliant, comes from money, and is willing to keep up with the various traditions we have. Tim will happily learn your language, even if just to greet people respectfully at events. Your desi mom will literally start telling you to act more like him.

He’ll get himself matching kurtas to your outfits if you want him to, even if he kind of just sits around at events. It's not that he doesn’t want to socialize; he’s just a little nervous.

Tim will watch all the Desi rom-coms you want with you, especially the musical ones; they’re his guilty pleasure.

Duke

He’s so sweet, genuinely such a good partner in general, but also so conscious of cultural and social differences. 

Duke Thomas would be the type of boyfriend who carries around extra safety pins whenever you’re in traditional clothes or bobby pins for your hair, just thoughtful in little but important ways.

Running around fighting crime really takes a lot out of a guy, so you know he’d love to eat some hearty food; I think his favorites would be biryani or anything similarly substantial. 

This is the boy who’d spend any spare hour he has listening to you ramble on about family drama that goes back three generations and spans 3 continents. He’ll even help you oil your hair while he’s at it; he’s pretty decent at massaging it into your scalp. 

His favorite clothes on you are the less gown-like desi clothes, like the Shalwar Kameez; Duke thinks you look absolutely adorable in a dupatta.

He adores you so much because of everything that makes you, you. That includes loving your culture.

Barbara

Barbara’s such an ideal girlfriend in any situation, but with a desi partner, she’d really adore exploring your culture with you.

Another one who’d love watching Bollywood/Tollywood movies with you, especially some of the newer ones by more obscure directors, focusing on women’s issues and other elements of modern Desi society.

She would help you do your makeup for formal events, and it will be locked down for the night. Imagine wearing matching lehengas with Barb; she’d look so stunning!

Warms up to your family pretty quickly; she loves sharing chai and biscuits in the morning with them, talking about all the happenings in the city.

Barbara loves desi jewelry; she’d adore it if you got her a piece. She loves seeing you in ornate matching sets, just decked out in glamour.

[hotchshands]

Trophy (sang-woo x gn!reader au) Part 1/2

Masterlist | Taglist

Summary: Sang-woo wins the games, and you become his young new trophy wife. Not to worry though, Gi-hun is alive thanks to the frontman.

Word Count: 1.9k

Contains: lots of plot, dark!sang-woo featuring ptsd, gn!reader, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, depictions of violence i.e., sang-woo killing gi-hun?

A/N: S2 made me miss him, so I decided to write something. Had to break this up into two parts cause it’s a lot, but I’m happy to add more if y’all want.

Sang-woo wakes up in the new penthouse he bought far away from home and looks over at you, sleeping soundly on the bed beside him. He wasn’t sure why he married you, but then he remembered the games and how they turned him into a murderer. Some might even say a total psychopath. Having been through hell, he knew he couldn’t just marry anyone. He had to be extremely careful with his choice.

You were his best option if he wanted someone to stay with him and overlook the things he did for 45.6 billion won. You were young, poor, desperate, and, best of all, completely bendable. Sang-woo took advantage of that and shaped you into his ideal partner. You made it easy. He knew you were perfect from the moment he met you in the train station all those years ago.

“Excuse me. Do you know if this train is going uptown?” Sang-woo asks a young-looking stranger on the platform.

The stranger turns to look at him, blushing upon seeing him standing there, towering over them in a grey suit. “Yes, this is the uptown train,” you reply.

Sang-woo noticed your flushed complexion. You looked scared and nervous. He decided then and there that he liked that look on you—the way your cheeks were red, the way your eyes never met his, instead focusing on his statue rather than his face, and the way your body stirred upon seeing him. For a moment, he thought you had seen right through his facade, seeing him for the madman he truly is rather than the genius everyone else saw him as.

Were you scared or intrigued? Sang-woo couldn't decide.

The train pulls up to the platform with a stretch. The sound reminds him of the games, making him zone out. Your voice brings him back to reality: “Are you alright?” Sang-woo snaps out of it and looks over at you. You look genuinely concerned.

He smiled slightly, pushing his glasses up before answering, “I'm alright. So? Shall we?” Sang-woo motions for you to board the train. You board the train without a second thought. Sang-woo follows you inside the train car. Once inside, he tells you to sit down while he stands in front of your seated form, holding onto the railing. You didn't question him or try to protest, foolishly trusting a stranger. Pathetic. Just like Gi-hun, Sang-woo thought to himself.

He wondered about Gi-hun from time to time. A part of him thought he might have survived the final game, but there could only be one winner.

“It's over. I won't let you leave here with that money,” Gi-hun said, holding the steak knife, determined to win, to beat Sang-woo. He was always stubborn, so much so that it clouded his judgment. He never knew when to admit defeat.

Sang-woo wasn't going to let him quit. They were too far into the game to just walk away without the prize money. Not only did quitting mean no money, but it also meant that those 454 people died for nothing. It meant that he killed people for nothing.

Gi-hun walks towards Sang-woo, knife in hand, and attacks. Sang-woo dodges the attack and manages to grab hold of Gi-hun. He holds him tightly, bringing the knife closer to his face, but Gi-hun cuts his wrist and escapes Sang-woo's hold, causing Sang-woo to drop his knife. Gi-hun wastes no time and attacks, cutting Sang-woo's cheek before kicking his knife across the field. Frustrated, Sang-woo takes off his suit jacket, using it to force Gi-hun to drop his knife. Both, now unarmed, rush toward each other, pushing and fighting in a fiery of agony as the rain falls down upon them and the court.

After a few punches, Sang-woo gets Gi-hun in a chokehold, which Gi-hun escapes from, only to have his suit jacket torn off his back. This is it, Sang-woo thought to himself before towering over Gi-hun's exhausted body, bringing the suit jacket up around his neck. “Die!” Sang-woo says as he chokes Gi-hun with the jacket. “Die!” he says once more, but Gi-hun is stubborn.

“Get up! Get up!” Sang-woo yells, trying his hardest to end this once and for all. As soon as the two stand up, they fall backward on the sand. Sang-woo grows exhausted, and Gi-hun grows confident as he moves away from Sang-woo's chokehold.

The rain continues to fall as the two return to fighting it out, both determined to end the final game. Sang-woo grabs a knife off the wet sand and stabs Gi-hun in the leg, then again in the stomach. Gi-hun groans in pain.

Sang-woo kicks him in the face, causing Gi-hun to fall onto the sand in the middle of the squid-shaped court. “You remember this place?”Sang-woo begins. “This is where they made us play Red Light, Green Light. Everyone who was standing here is dead now. Everyone... except for us, Gi-hun.” He kicks him in the face again before continuing, “We've gone too far to go back now.” With that, Sang-woo stabs Gi-hun. The knife is met with Gi-hun's hand in protest.

“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees. So, if we both give up now, we can end it,” Gi-hun cries through the pain of the knife in his hand.

“When we were kids, you and I would play like this, and our moms would call us to dinner. No one's calling anymore,” Sang-woo sighs as tears form in his eyes. He pulls the knife out of Gi-hun's hand with force before stabbing him a final time. Gi-hun bleeds out slowly. “Sang-woo... my daughter, Ga-yeong... please, look after her and Cheol. I promised her I would look after Cheol,” Gi-hun sobs before finally admitting defeat.

“Gi-hun... I'm sorry,” Sang-woo sobs as the speaker announces player 456 has been eliminated.

You get up from your seat on the train before saying goodbye to the strange man in front of you. “Well, this is me.” The train comes to a stop, and the doors open. As you turn to leave, Sang-woo snaps out of his daydream and grabs hold of your wrist before placing a card in your pocket. “Thank you,” he says.

You weren't sure why the man was thanking you. All you did was confirm he had the right train. You nod anyway, to be polite, before exiting the train car. As the train doors close, you turn to see the man is already looking at you. Strange, you thought as you watched him leave the station.

When you get home and take off your coat, you notice something fell out of your pocket. You bend down to pick up a card. You stare at the number on it, wondering how it got there. Remembering the strange man on the train, you decide to call the number. After three rings, someone picks up.

“Hello?” The voice says.

“Hello. I uh think you might've given me this number. Who is this?” you reply.

The voice lets out a chuckle, “Yes, I remember. You're the one from the train. My apologies for not introducing myself. I'm Sang-woo.”

So it was that strange man from earlier, you thought before speaking into the phone and introducing yourself to the man known as Sang-woo. The man repeats your name back as if trying to memorize it.

“I have a proposition for you. If you're curious, I'd like you to meet me tomorrow night. Before you come to a decision, check your other pocket. Should you agree, there's a lot more where that came from,” with that Sang-woo hangs up.

My other pocket? You grab your jacket and look in the other pocket to find $1,000 cash. Huh?! You count the money to be sure before holding it up toward the ceiling light. It was real. Before you can debate the money further, you hear your phone ping. You pick it up to see a text from an unknown number that reads a location and a time. That had to be him. Sang-woo...

The next day, you rush around your apartment looking for something to wear to meet Sang-woo. The location he sent you looked to be that of a park so you didn’t need to dress fancy, but you wanted to leave a good impression. The man could be a psycho planning to kidnap you for all you know, yet he gave you $1,000 which made you think he could be trusted. You still couldn’t understand why give a stranger that much money. The man was clearly rich. especially given that suit he was wearing yesterday, but why not donate it or give it to someone who needed it more? You weren’t exactly well off financially, but you had a roof over your head and a paying job so you couldn’t complain.

After making a mess of your closet, you pull an outfit that pleases you. Hopefully, this pleases him. You grab your belongings, including the money he gave you, and leave to meet Sang-woo at the park. Once you arrive, you check the time on your phone: 10:02 PM. Where is he? Just as you start to think about heading back home, you see a shadow walking toward you in the distance.

“Sorry, I'm late. Please have a seat,” Sang-woo motions to the park bench. You sit down beside him and take in his appearance. He looks polished in his white button-up and thick black coat, but his eyes tell a different story. Behind the glasses, he looks emotionless, almost evil. He pulls out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one before continuing, “I'm glad you showed up. I'm sure you're wondering why I brought you here, so I'll cut to the chase.”

“Wait,” you interrupt him, handing him the money he gave you. “Here. This is yours.”

He stared at the money, taking another drag from his cigarette without daring to take it. “Keep it. I gave it to you, so please keep it.”

You make a motion for him to take it, refusing to take his money when you don't need or want it. “No, really, I can't take it. It's too much.”

He stares at you with those piercing eyes, “Keep it.”

You return the money to your pocket, refusing to argue with the strange man and focus on the ground because those eyes terrify you. Perhaps he really was here to kidnap you.

Sang-woo takes one last drag before throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping it with his foot. He then reaches into his pocket to pull out a black box and a wad of cash before facing you, holding out the two things in front of you. “You can walk away with more money or marry me. You can only pick one. One makes you richer. The other makes you even more rich. Pick one,” he says, opening the black box to reveal a diamond engagement ring.

You blink in confusion at the options being presented to you. Without even thinking, you feel your hand move toward the ring. It was a beautiful ring, one everyone dreamed about. Your hand touches the top of the black box, pinky meeting the skin of the man holding it. You're not sure what made you pick the ring. Perhaps it was the excitement of a new life or the idea of never worrying about money again.

Sang-woo smiles, putting the wad of cash back in his pocket before placing the ring on your finger. He slides it on slowly, gently brushing the metal further down your finger until it reaches the end. “Good choice.”

[thecubspeaks]

[there is no one at work and i've been wanting to poke at this idea... i have no idea where the plot would actually go except in the broadest strokes, so who knows if there will be more]

Karlach cries when Jaheira presses the harp-shaped pin into her hand. 

She’s been crying at everything since emerging from Avernus, it’s honestly getting embarrassing. Sunsets, sunrises, grass, a guy selling cabbages, some kids playing a game in the street. 

Obviously she cries when Wyll sets off– she cries about ten times on their last night together, which very quickly becomes a very drunk last night– like, singing-on-the-roof-of-the-Elfsong drunk. Not that it’s the last last: they will see each other again, but Karlach needs to be in Baldur’s Gate for a little bit and Wyll needs anything but, and he’s given up enough for her so she’d never ask him to stay, badly as she wants him to.

She takes a couple days after that to just be. She wanders the city, she eats all the food she missed, she scares the hells out of Dammon turning up unannounced and they both cry yet again. She calls on every friend she ever had: Rolan and his siblings (Lia’s a Flaming Fist now!), Alfira and Lakrissa (not married yet, but possibly finally together? Still hard to tell), Fitz and the baby (not a baby now, he’s walking around and can almost hold a conversation), Danis and Bex (who have a baby now, too), Barcus and his pals– hells, she even stops in at the Guildhall. Cries at all of them.

She buys fruit on the Wide and visits the House of Wonders, because she’s a fucking hero of Baldur’s Gate and best mates with the Grand Duke’s son, so she can actually go to the Upper City now. Doesn’t spend much time there, though. There’s too much to do in the Lower City. She spends a day hanging out by the docks. She considers Sharess’s Caress, but loses her nerve. She haggles with street vendors in Little Calimshan. She visits her parents. Definitely cries there. She lays in the grass in Bloomridge Park for an entire day, even when it starts pouring rain. Then she catches a stonking cold, and spends a few more days in bed, luxuriating in the knowledge that she can just lie around feeling sorry for herself and a bunch of imps aren’t going to try to stab her in the neck while she’s sneezing. She has a big, snotty cry about that, too. 

When she’s well enough to not turn Jaheira’s place into a plague pit, she makes her way there, the last and accidentally delayed stop on her list. She hasn’t really made it past the Blushing Mermaid in this direction. She tries not to look at the statue of Balduran in the square– pity that, of all fucking things, didn’t get destroyed– and as she’s thinking it, resisting the urge to look at that face, she stumbles into someone.

She laughs at once– looking the way she does, you’ve got to let people know right away you don’t mean any harm– and hold up her hands in apology before she’s even fully turned around. “Sorry, mate, I wasn’t–”

She stops. The woman, dressed in a plain black gown, is brushing herself off with visible irritation. “Watching where you were going? Yes, obviously.” She looks up, and her frown deepens. “Why are you staring?” 

Karlach blurts it out despite herself, despite knowing what a bad idea it is. “Shadowheart?” 

Her eyes flash wide in surprise, then she quickly composes herself. “Is that supposed to be a name?” She gives her skirt one final flick– she’s wearing gloves, so Karlach can’t see if the wound is still there on the back of her hand, but why wouldn’t it be? 

The ache of grief and guilt is so sudden and strong, Karlach feels sick. She can’t speak, can’t say anything as Shadowheart gives her a last disdainful look, mutters something about people with more muscle than sense, and stalks away. Karlach sinks right down onto the plinth, sitting there at Balduran’s feet. This is a very different wanting to cry than all the other crying she’s been doing. This is– all the things she hasn’t been thinking about. The people she hasn’t seen, because she can’t bear to see them. This is two fucking years for guilt over what he did– what they did– to curdle into certainty that it was the wrong fucking choice. 

She’s never stopped thinking about it, even in Avernus where you couldn’t ever lose focus, had to sleep with one eye open and keep your mind ten steps ahead. Even in the midst of all that, her shitty old brain found time to remind her constantly, constantly, of the look on Shadowheart’s face as the Mother Superior and those creepy, evil masked Sharrans dragged her away. The look on Jaheira’s face as she stared down Astarion, like she might spit at his feet. Wyll and Astarion shouted at each other for what felt like hours that night, until Karlach and Gale just had to drag them off to separate corners of the camp.  

And there was so much left to do, so much they needed each other for. So they just never spoke of it again. 

They hadn’t killed her. Was that a comfort? 

And on the other hand, they had killed her, hadn’t they. They’d killed Shads, Fringe, the spiky heart with a soft centre that Karlach knew, wanted so badly to know better. There was nothing in those eyes, in a mind they’d probably had to wipe clean half a dozen times since Karlach saw her last. Since Karlach just let them take her away. 

I’m not usually one for making the first move, she’d said. But then again, you haven’t exactly been quiet about wanting some companionship tonight. So… shall we give this upgrade a trial run?

And she’d grinned and said, Oh fuck yes. 

And Shadowheart had laughed, just the smallest bit, and said, Let’s just not go announcing it to the whole camp.

So they never told anyone. 

She’s half in a daze still as she walks to Jaheira’s place, knocks on the door. She can hear the noise of all the kids tearing around inside. One she’s never seen before, an absolutely miniscule little halfling, opens the door and stares up at her with huge eyes and huge rosy cheeks like two apples. 

“Hi,” Karlach says. The kid is so small, it’s really not helping her feel more anchored in reality. “Is your mum in?” 

The halfling takes in a long, deep breath that puffs up her whole little chest, then yells impossibly loudly, “JAHEIRAAAAA!” 

“How many times, Cheska?” scolds Rion’s voice from somewhere inside, but then she, too, is shouting, “Mother! One of your mysterious friends come to call, apparently!” 

Coming here always feels like a flash of a life she could have had, and that’s really not something she needs layered on top of her present state of mind. She almost just turns and leaves right then, but Jaheira’s there at the door before she can, and must see something in her face, because she hauls Karlach right into her study and shuts the door. Then she stops short, her hands on Karlach’s shoulders.

“Let me look at you,” she says. There’s an unignorable waver in her voice.

“Jaheira,” Karlach says warningly. “I’m a fucking faucet these days, so if you start, you’ll never get me to stop. And I just…” 

“Just what?” Jaheira prompts, and seems very glad to get to move past the moment of near-miss vulnerability. “You do not look nearly as happy as I expected you to. How long have you been back?”

“Just over a tenday,” Karlach says. “I meant to come sooner, honest, but–” 

Jaheira cuts her off with a laugh and a wave of her hand. “You needn’t make excuses to me, of all people! Rion would tell me I am getting my just desserts. But come, sit. Tell me what’s the matter, cub.” 

A voice in Karlach’s head that sounds suspiciously like Rion’s points out that clearly, Jaheira is bored. She wouldn’t be home in the first place otherwise. But that can be true at the same time as it can be true that Jaheira cares. About Karlach, about all of them. 

About Shadowheart. 

Karlach takes a breath.

“I just saw Shadowheart.”

Something goes dark in Jaheira’s expression, like a shutter drawn over her eyes. Karlach should wait to see what she has to say, but– well, Karlach’s always been impatient, and talked too much, and two more years in Avernus isn’t about to change that. “How did I let that happen, Jaheira? How did I just– stand there? It was like… it was like I was in Avernus all over again, in Zariel’s court, just watching horrible things happen and telling myself I was powerless to stop them, so it was more important to keep myself alive.” 

“Astarion was in no place to be a leader then, and we should have been quicker to see it.” Jaheira sinks into a chair next to Karlach’s. Karlach knows she was angry about it once– she saw it herself– but it sounds like all that anger has burned away with time and just left weariness behind. 

“I guess we were so used to just letting him do the talking,” Karlach says, not that the thought consoles her. “And I was so proud of him, after everything with Cazador, freeing those other spawn. I really thought he’d just– keep making the right choices.” 

“No one makes the right choice every time,” Jaheira says. “And Astarion is better at hiding his grief than most. He was far less at peace with what he chose than he wished us to know. And Shadowheart paid the price for our inattentiveness.” 

Karlach shakes her head. “I should have seen. I should have done something. It wasn’t too late to fight.”  “You are finally free,” Jaheira says firmly. “Do not turn around and cage yourself in regrets. We were none of us thinking clearly then, with the weight of the world on our shoulders– you, with the spectre of your own death always at your heels.”

“It’s because I’m free that I have to think about her!” Karlach retorts. “I get to be free. We condemned her forever.”

Funny, to get angry and not feel the literal rush of flames engulfing her. It’s just a normal heat– well, probably still a bit hotter than normal, but not literal sparks at the edges of her vision, and– in those last tendays– not the ominous clunking and whirring that said she’d started to push too hard. But it was never just the engine that got her heated up. 

“You’ve had all this time to make your peace with it, but I’ve never stopped thinking about her! I don’t regret anything more in my whole fucking life. We did so much good, and none of it even matters to me because I just think of that one evil, evil thing we let him do. That we did. I need to–” The idea’s words before it’s an idea, she says it without entirely knowing what she’s saying ‘til it’s said. “I have to do something. She’s still alive. I have to help her.” 

“I should have guessed you would say something like that.” Jaheira stands up. She goes to her desk and starts to rummage through it. “I know you know the stories, so it will sound strange to you, but you remind me very much of Khalid. You have the same heart. The same passion, though you wear it differently. Nothing can crush your kindness, after a life that would have ground all the good out of most. You cannot bear injustice, despite all the injustices done to you.” She finds what she’s looking for and straightens up. She plants both hands on the desk and fixes Karlach with a long, level, unwavering look. “You know I do not say this lightly. And you also know it is not entirely a compliment. He had– you have– the true heart of a Harper.” 

Karlach’s jaw drops. She’s just staring like an idiot but she doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing to say, how is she supposed to respond to that? Jaheira thinks that she–

“I have spent the past months,” Jaheria says, “determining how the House of Grief can be brought down. There is unsettled business between Viconia and myself, and I have allowed her to prey for too long on the city’s lost and hopeless. And I–” Her voice falters, almost imperceptibly. “I saw her, too. A few months ago. She must have been given some mission outside of the cloister. But that will be our opportunity.” 

“How’s that? Burn it down when she’s away?”

“We must be spies before we can be soldiers,” Jaheira says with a crooked smile. “They are too well-versed in secrecy. We must have someone on the inside, and none of my Harpers have had any success. There is only one person.” Jaheira splays out her hand. The silver harp glints in her outstretched palm. “When Shadowheart sees a glimpse of light, she reaches for it. They cannot crush this out of her no matter how hard they try. You have shown her before. I know you can do it again.” 

She cries when Jaheira presses the pin into her hand. 

[hippolotamus]

For the short & impactful: "lie to me." Buddie :)

Bless you, Al for bringing some inspiration to the Hippo Cove 🫶

Buck is everywhere. Fingers interlaced with Eddie’s, pinning his hands to either side of his waist. Massive chest against Eddie’s own, pressing his back to the kitchen cabinets. Lips a scant space away, stealing and supplying all of Eddie’s breath.  “Lie to me.” Buck challenges, nipping gently at his lower lip. “Tell me none of this was real. That you don’t love this, love us.”  The ‘love me’ goes unspoken, hanging heavy in the air between them.  “I-” Eddie wills the words to come out. To do as Buck asks. To tell him that they were a mistake and it was all a reaction to moving home to LA, whole and complete with Chris. That he got caught up in the moment, all those weeks ago, choosing joy when Buck kissed him while they were unpacking boxes, and he kissed back.  “You can’t, can you, Eds? Because you don’t do spur of the moment. You don’t go around kissing just anyone. I know that because I know you. Because you have been my partner and best friend and had my back for seven years.” Buck pauses, his eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to hold back the tears making his eyes glassy. “Or am I just another Marisol? Another Ana? Someone your kid loves, so you just rolled with it. Maybe I don’t know you at all.”  “You know that’s not true, Buck. You could never be that to me. But I- we-” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut tight, unable to slow his breaths coming rapid and shallow, like an adverse reaction to the falsehood he can’t force past his tongue and teeth. “Breathe with me, Eds! C’mon, breathe with me.“ Okay, you. You’re my problem. Wanna go for the title? You don’t have to pretend with me. I’m here. What can I do? You knew I wouldn’t. What are you afraid of?  “What if I fuck this up? What if I’m still too broken to be what you need?” “Baby,” Buck soothes, resting their foreheads together. “Give yourself the chance to try. Please don’t be someone else telling me what I can and can’t handle. I can’t- I can’t take that. Not from you.” He inhales a shaky, trembling breath. “If you really don’t want this, say the word, Eds. I’ll do whatever you ask. Just please don’t force me away because you think you’re doing me some sort of favor. Please.” “Okay.” Eddie opens his eyes again, lost in the endless blue of Buck’s gaze. “I won’t.” Buck cups his cheek with one hand, nuzzling against the other. “Promise?” “Promise.”

send a prompt!

[sahrii]

omg congrats on your 100 followers milestone ⭐️⭐️ can i get a posy bouquet of 15 roses? make the bouquet that will remind you of leftover feelings by regina song. i’ll give it suna rintarou 🙈🙈 my boy

suna rintaro!

❛So between me and you and this floor and this ceiling//I've been wanting to say//I have leftover feelings for you❜ — leftover feelings by regina song

warnings! hurt to comfort, gn!reader, songfic, suna is a player, situationship implied (??), mentions of crying, suna is kind of an asshole, confrontation.

word count! 858 (give or take haha)

100 followers event

suna rintaro has been avoiding you for 17 days and 16 nights now. at this point, you’re not sure what you are. you’re not sure what the sweet kisses meant, or the late night calls, or the not very secretive giggles you shared. you always tell yourself that you’re over him, but the next morning, the second your eyes set on his figure, you convince yourself that this time it’s going to be different.

The second you step into the same class, room, floor he’s standing on, he scurries away. and it takes everything in you to not break into a fit of sobs and cries.

but this time it’s different. he’s in front of you, and it was involuntary, the way your legs moved towards him. it was always you running to him, you wished it was the opposite for once only.

“suna,” you yell. you yell loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for everyone else to. the hall was already filled with a faint buzz of different murmurs so your yell wasn’t really heard.

his head snaps back, only to be met by your forlorn gaze. he felt something tug at his heart. he turned his head back, wanting out quickly, but your hand wraps around his bicep to stop him from running away. “can we please talk?” you quietly ask.

suna rintaro was a playboy. but he seemed different around you. you were not going to get over your leftover feelings for him anytime soon, so might as well try.

he stared down at you, golden pale eyes contemplating on whether it’s a good idea or not. he let out a defeated sigh, though its not really defeated because he’s been waiting for you to come back.

he always pushes you away, but waits for you to come back. he doesn’t know the endless nights he’d spent with his friends, gaming and laughing, and the endless nights you spent in solitude, tears dripping down your chin because of him.

he likes you. he really does. he feels different around you, more like himself in a sense. as if he’d been living with a missing piece, and that missing piece is you. you make him whole, but he knows he’ll hurt you. so he would rather stay away, stay incomplete, because he was okay with feeling completely incomplete if it meant that you found someone better than him.

now instead of it being suna, you, and the many students are you, it was suna, you, and the whistling trees.

his hands were stuffed in his pocket. he was waiting for you to talk. he missed being in your presence.

“you’ve been ignoring me,” you mumble. your voice almost cracks, almost. “have i done anything wrong?” your eyes move from your feet to his face. your heart was beating in your ears. you hate confrontation, but for him you’d do anything.

he was quiet for a while. his stare was intense, you almost felt naked under his gaze. he was contemplating on whether or not he should tell you. whether or not he should express how he likes you a lot, but the voices in his head keep telling him that he’s not good enough for you. that his bad reputation will stick to you. that he might end up hurting you. the voices in his head grew louder, but the hum of his heart shut them down. he likes you.

“you’ve…you’ve done nothing wrong,” he sighs, his eyes still on yours. “i’m the problem here,” he blinks and shakes his head slightly when saying that.

“what do you—“

“i’m gonna hurt you if we keep doing this. i think it’s best for us to stop here,” he cuts you off. your throat feels dry. your brows furrow.

“do you think i’m stupid?” your voice is raised, and his mouth slightly parts. “do you genuinely think i’m stupid?” you repeat.

“what? of course i don’t,” he replies.

“then why do you treat me like i am? i know what’s going to hurt me and what’s not, i know what’s best for me. you can’t decide that for me,” your eyes feel teary and wet, but nothing is rolling down your cheeks yet.

he didn’t reply. he was taken aback. he thought he was stupid. he wanted to punch himself.

“you’re hurting me more by avoiding me,” you faintly mumble, sniffling in the process.

“i’m sorry,” he replies. “i like you, and i’m too scared i’m going to end up hurting you,” he simply says. “i have never been in a committed relationship before,”

your throat feels dry. you swallow. “okay,” you breathe.

“okay?”

“we can try,” you say. “we can try and if doesn’t work out, i’ll stop bothering you,”

“but what if—“

“i don’t want what if’s, you just need to promise that you’ll try your best. what comes after that…i don’t know but if we both want to do our best then there is no harm in trying,” you cut him off.

he looks at you, he really looks at you. then he breathes. “okay,” a small smile forms on his face. “i promise i’ll try my best,”

[shalscumbunny]

Could I maybe get some Noncon uvogin crumbs if you like writing for him, if not Shalnark crumbs 🙏🏻

Hungry | Uvogin X Female!Reader

Summary: Uvogin clearly loves you, needs you, he is completely obsessed, your body is a treasure, the best appetizer that life can offer him, your body is simply so beautiful, so sensual, it makes him hungry for you.

Pairing: Uvogin X Female!Reader

Warnings: Vaginal sex, aggressive sex, female reader receiving oral sex, nipple sucking, vaginal bleeding, cumflation, pet names, stomach bulge due to penetration, non con, body manipulation, dacryphilia, impregnation kink, size kink

Author’s note: Good news! We will do both and start with Uvogin! because you deserve it! ❤ I hope u like it!

Sites: AO3

Being captured by Uvogin was a far cry from what the other members of the Phantom Troupe would have done. While the others would opt for discretion, leaving no traces and avoiding trouble, Uvogin literally had no problem capturing you in broad daylight and carrying you off like a rag doll thanks to the significant size difference. Even with all your strength, you wouldn't have been able to put up any resistance. 

And now you'd regained consciousness and your breath caught in your throat as you saw him standing at the foot of the bed where you lay, that giant, muscular figure, even bigger than a bear. You couldn't even swallow, your eyes fixed on him.

"You're a heavy sleeper, I like that" His deep voice made you tremble. 

"Please... let me go... I don't have any money" You begged, looking at him fearfully. 

"I don't want money, I don't use it" He replied mockingly. 

For someone so big and heavy, you were astonished when, in the blink of an eye, he was on top of you, pinning you to the bed. You only just noticed then that the bed was his, no one else would have a bed that big.

For the first time in your life, you were genuinely scared. You recalled the countless wildlife documentaries you’d watched during idle hours on television. For the first time, you identified with those small animals in the jaws of their predator.

“I’m a thief, thieves just take what they want…” You jumped as you felt his large hand grab your lower hip. “I want you, from the first time I saw you… so I’ve decided to take you.”

“I’m not an object you can possess” You tried to defend yourself, completely terrified but indignant.

You heard his deep, rumbling laugh. He seemed amused, as if he were playing with his prey, mocking your boldness at this moment.

And indeed, Uvogin was enjoying himself. From the first time he saw you, he liked you, he liked you a lot. Beside him, you were small, like a rabbit next to a bear, but it wasn’t just your appearance, he liked your personality a lot too.

He always saw you arguing, shouting, and being so stubborn, which was charming. He was surprised by how much naughtiness there was in such a small and... delicious... body.

“I should teach you how to behave in front of me. You’re mine now, you must obey me and respect me, especially obey me”

You froze as you watched his left hand wander and position itself on your abdomen. The hand was bigger than your torso; he could literally grasp your entire body with just one hand. You wanted to scream at him to stop, but you didn't have the courage when you looked into his eyes.

You twisted as his hand moved up your chest, his heavy fingers playing with your breasts aggressively, your legs trembling.

"W-wait... d-don't do that" You gasped, trying to turn away.

You wriggled trying to avoid him, but it was literally easy for Uvogin to rip your clothes off in a second, leaving you in just your panties. Your eyes filled with tears, and your face flushed.

"Do you really think you can stop me? Come on! Keep trying, it's fun to watch you struggle" Uvogin removed your bra, revealing your breasts, your nipples erect from the stimulation and the sudden cold.

"Let go of me!" You whimpered between gasps until his mouth captured one of your breasts, sucking and biting aggressively.

You were speechless, only forced moans came out of your mouth, while your legs managed to kick him, but you didn't really hurt him in any way, on the contrary, you began to feel a terrifying bulge forming in your kidnapper's crotch.

Your body trembled as his teeth tortured your breasts, as if they were flavored gum, a flavor he loved, while his big hands obscenely massaged your hips and ass.

Your weak hands tried to force him back, scratching and pinching, but that only excited him, it excited him to see you so tearful and defenseless, so much his...

One of his hands left your hip forcing you to open your legs revealing your wet panties which made him smile, he was hungry, hungry for that wet treasure on your legs.

“I don’t think you’re hating this” He whispered in your ear licking it and at the same time making you whimper.

Completely stupefied you saw his large middle finger caress your wet underwear making you move your hips involuntarily at the feeling of need.

“Are you wet, bunny?” He whispered caressing your clit with the wet fabric of your panties, the friction stealing your breath

“No! Please not there! Stop!” You begged between desperation, shame and pleasure

Uvogin was having one of the best times of his life, his middle finger roughly massaging your pussy, which looked tiny and small in his hand. Ecstatic to hear your whimpers and shame. It pleased him to be the one who inspired pleasure and terror in you, he was proud.

You couldn't hold out much longer, you came in your underwear between cries and begs and Uvogin was quick to take them off, revealing your excited and sticky pussy, you couldn't even anticipate Uvogin's animal acts, he took your breath away by sticking his finger inside you, already filling you completely.

Your cry of pain and pleasure made you open your mouth, which Uvogin took advantage of to plant a dirty kiss on you, inserting his tongue in your mouth and capturing yours.

All you could do was whimper on his tongue while your pussy squeezed his finger completely needy, you felt like it was pumped inside you quickly and roughly, making you cum several times.

“Good bunny, you see, you wanted it” He congratulated you with a growl in your ear, pulling his soaked finger out of your dilated pussy.

You saw him stand up, so you thought it was all over, however, the relief didn't last long, as you saw how he spread your legs and positioned his face between your thighs.

“I’ve been starving for hours” He murmured, licking your pussy with his tongue, making you shiver

“Please… no more” You begged, overstimulated

“Calm down bunny, now that you’re mine, we’re going to improve the stamina of this delicious pussy” Uvogin kissed your clit “My name is Uvogin, yes bunny? That’s the only name you’re going to moan from now on”

You tried to kick weakly, but with no effort Uvogin spread your legs wide and began to devour your pussy as if he hadn’t eaten in years, within seconds you had already cum for the first time, your insides were moving as he sucked on your clit, red with excitement, and his tongue penetrated your rubbery walls, it was more than you could handle, your head was clouding over and you were losing your mind.

At first you were just begging him to stop as you came on his tongue and chin, but every time you came, you started to lose track of the fact that you were literally being raped by your captor.

But soon Uvogin’s middle finger started pumping into your tight pussy as his tongue tortured your raw clit, making you cry for more and more as Uvogin greedily tasted your pleasure juices.

“Ah! Uvogin! Uvogin” You moaned his name, practically screaming it, exploding with pleasure

Uvogin proudly stood still, proud of the mess you were, seeing the bed all wrinkled from your attempts to escape and then the writhings of pleasure he caused you, because only he could, because you were only his.

You looked so silly with your mind clouded with pleasure, innocent even, like a submissive little bunny to him, adorable and tiny next to him, yes, you were definitely a bunny, his bunny.

“You know, I love bunnies, they’re so cute and pretend to be innocent, just like you” He purred in your ear as he pulled down his pants, your mind was so clouded with pleasure that you didn’t even notice the giant, hard cock between your thighs, completely swollen, veined and throbbing to be inside that fertile little pussy of yours.

His huge tip throbbed at your soaked and needy entrance, he knew it wasn’t going to fit in the easy way, so he would get it the hard way and teach you to take it the hard way, from now on that would be your duty.

“But bunnies are just like you, little whores eager for someone like me to fill their cunts and impregnate them” His deep voice made you writhe in pleasure

Uvogin took your chin, opening your mouth, kissing you once and at the same time giving you a deep thrust with his huge cock that knocked the air out of you, causing you to bite his mouth in the kiss, but he didn't care.

The strong stab brought you down from the cloud of pleasure, your body trembling from the pain, you even felt like you were going to faint, everything upset you, even feeling the blood from Uvogin's lips in your mouth.

You managed to break away from the kiss in tears, the unbearable burning and pain making you kick to separate yourself.

“Ah! It hurts! Please I don't want to” You begged between cries, watching your pussy bleed from the aggressive and huge intrusion

Uvogin loved you in the end, as much as he wanted you, so he comforted you by kissing your hair and caressing your clit to help you cope with the pain.

“Shhh… shhh… you’re taking it well” He whispered hotly to you pulling out a little and again penetrating you all the way “You’re going to like it, you’re going to get used to it”

You didn’t even have the strength to fight, you just whimpered into his hairy, big chest, amazed because only half of his huge cock was inside you, you even felt like you were going to die, you saw his fat cock stretching your rubbery, aching walls while you clearly saw how your belly was slightly bulging in its shape.

This time it took you a long time to get used to it, you cried every time he entered and exited your sore pussy that at least wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the stimulation on your clit managed to make you finally cum after a long time.

“See how you’re getting used to it, bunny, look how well you’re taking me” Uvogin congratulated you, increasing the pace of his thrusts

Your pussy squeezed him in such a delicious way that he felt lucky, it was a dream to see you so pretty and so small receiving his huge, fat cock while his heavy balls contracted, eager to release the semen they held.

All you could do was gasp and whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders and back, the intrusion was no longer so painful, your clit was so needy that it enjoyed Uvogin’s attentions and your pussy squeezed his cock as if it were begging for more, you didn’t even last long when his head hit your sweet, rubbery spot that made you forget the pain.

“I can’t anymore… ah… ah…” You begged between moans

Uvogin also knew that he wouldn’t last any longer, so he didn’t care about hurting you, he began to penetrate you with more force and kiss you needily.

“Pretty bunny, I’m going to fill you up, just like you deserve it, okay?” Uvogin’s muscular arms held you tight to him “I’m going to impregnate that pretty womb of yours, I’m going to make you a pretty mother of several children so that you remember who you belong to forever”

You didn’t even understand it well, your mind was clouded, completely lost between pleasure and pain, Uvogin wanted to impregnate you? Who cares! You only needed that thick, hot semen to satisfy you, to end the hot need of your body, even though your mind and heart cried out for help.

It finally happened, you rolled your eyes in pleasure as Uvogin filled you to the brim, brutally hitting your cervix, while hot, copious loads of thick cum filled you, starting to bulge your belly.

“Good bunny” Uvogin moaned in pleasure as he licked and bit at your neck “I was so hungry for you”

Thank u so much for reading this shit 🖤

Shalnark version-> HERE

[yoredoesmore]

Hello! I saw you opening request again, can I have a request for soshiro and fem reader where they spend time each other for holiday?

Maybe they're having a cafe date in this cold season or maybe ice skating or spend time alone together?

Memories of Snow | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Fem!Reader

genre: /romance/fluff overload

summary: You take your boyfriend out on a cute date to help him relax during the holidays.

wc: 1,7k

a/n: I'm falling to my knees, rubbing my hands together and apologizing for taking this long for your request. please accept my apology anon please please please 😣

Enjoy :>

It was that time of the year again. Tokyo sat covered in a crystal white blanket and the freezing temperatures urged everyone to take out their coats and fuzzy winter scarfs. Christmas lights illuminated the streets and the smell of baked goods and hot chocolate lingered in the air.

It was a beautiful time to be, and your favorite.

Your mitten covered hands tried their best to work the phone in your hands. The cold air threatened to dry out your skin the second it came in contact with it, which is why you refused to take them out of the warm fabric. You knew better now.

It was already five past seven and Soshiro had yet to respond to all your messages.

“Im ag the Christmas makest where eate hiu”

Soshiro has long adjusted to your typos, therefore you did not bother to correct your mistakes (not that it was possible with these things on anyway).

Worried that something might have happened to the man, you tried to dial his number but upon the first sound ringing up, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist.

“Someone's impatient.” Soshiro placed a gentle hand on your cheeks before leaning in for a kiss. His lips moved gently over yours, capturing your heart in a swift motion.

“Yes, because you're usually on time.” You rolled your eyes in a playful manner as you pulled away from him and smiled, immediately forgiving his actions.

“So, what does my Snow Angel have planned for us?” His hands wrapped around your fuzzy mittens. One thing you have noticed was that Soshiro loved matching your nickname to whatever season or event was currently taking place. It was a cute habit of his, one that you have gotten deeply attached to.

The both of you began to walk down the christmas market, taking in the beautiful scenery around you and the sweet smell of roasted almonds. You have been looking forward to this day ever since he got the green light to take this day off. Attending the christmas market was like a tradition, one the both of you have grown quite fond of.

“Sooo, it occurred to me that we never went ice skating together and lucky us, the market renovated their ice skating rink! I got us two tickets for that and afterwards we can grab something to eat and look around a bit more.”

While you were talking, Soshiro couldn't help but lose himself in your presence. your eyes shone with such anticipation and joy, it caused his heart to melt the cold around him away.

He was always so on edge at work, as the vice president it was his duty to take care of everything around him and protect his division after all. It was a constant pressure that rested on his shoulders. But with you around him, that weight was lifted and he was able to enjoy the moment.

When it came to dates specifically, it was usually you who took care of everything. The reservations, the schedule, the dress code– you loved taking care of it all. Of course it was always nice to see Soshiro handle those things when he found the time but most of the time, all he had to do was show up and take care of the financial aspects.

Upon arriving at the skating rink, you noticed how many people were already enjoying the sports. Couples, families and friends danced around on the ice, having an enjoyable time. You have been looking forward to this for ages now and you couldn't wait to try this out with your boyfriend. But as you turned around to look at his face, he had a..less excited expression on.

“What's wrong, Soshiro?” you asked, pulling your tickets out of your bag.

“Don't tell me that you have never done this before.” Your words were meant to be taken as a joke, you didn't even look at him as you spoke that sentence but when Soshiro didn't laugh or make any other signs that he hadn't taken your words to heart, you paused in your actions.

“No way..”

“It's not that big of a deal, I mean how hard can this be.” The man crossed his arms over his chest, the usual sassy expression hanging on his lips. He was avoiding eye contact as well, what a cutie.

You wanted to tease Soshiro for this. Poke at his ego a little and drop a few jokes but you decided against your worse judgment. Your boyfriend was amazing at many things, so many that it was painful to compare your achievements. Thus, having him admit that he was unable to do such simple thing as holding himself up on the ice did feel like a win for you.

This was going to be interesting.

*

He was exceptional.

Soshiro moved on the ice as if he was born to do so. Your boyfriend made it seem effortless, keeping his posture while elegantly moving through the crowd. It was a sight to behold, watching the man who almost stumbled over himself upon entering the icy rink now holding himself up like it was nothing.

Meanwhile you stood in the corner, admiring his skills.

You had told him that you needed a break but in reality you simply wished to admire the man.

It should not have been that much of a surprise to you, after all you were well aware of his abilities as noted before. The master of blades and swift movements was bound to find his calling on the ice. And not to mention– he looked unbelievably handsome.

Once the lap was finished, Soshiro returned to your side. His chest heaved up and down in order to regain his stamina and his rapid breaths visualized in the cold evening wind as misty clouds.

“This is funnier than expected.” Soshiro smiled, placing his hands on his hips.

“You sure are enjoying yourself, Soshiro.”

“Sure am. My girlfriend is excellent at picking fun activities after all.”

A knock of wind suddenly hit your face as you found yourself being dragged back into the center of the ring. “Let's try it together!”

Soshiro didn't even wait for your answer as he urged your stiff body closer to his. But you did not complain nor refuse, as you were all too used to Soshiro's sudden antics and therefore simply followed behind him.

You haven't laughed like this since breakfast this morning. Soshiro held your hands while moving along to the music. Your feet followed him, matching his pace and rhythm. The people around you almost became nonexistent in your eyes– it was simply the two of you who existed in the moment.

He held your hands as you tried a trick and pulled you back up after failing miserably. But you just laughed it off, not paying the failure any attention.

But before you knew it an hour passed and it was time to clear the ice. Soshiro and you went for one last round before the magical time was over.

“What a bummer. I could have gone for another hour.”

Hearing him say this earned a smile out of you. The smile on your face sat brightly as you wrapped your hand around his and pulled him along.

“The day's not over, so let's find something else to do!” Soshiro welcomed your enthusiasm by giving your hands a soft squeeze.

You ended up walking around the market for another hour, relishing in the festive spirit, enjoying the moment and stopping by almost every food stand. And just when you believed that the night could not go any better it started snowing.

Tiny crystals of ice landed on your skin and melted on impact. This was no weather to return home to, Soshiro said and guided you towards the nearby river.

Less people now walked the street but those who were outside enjoyed the view of the water along with the snow.

“Remember last year, when we went to the christmas market and it started snowing just like this? A little earlier than now but it was so beautiful.”

“And so cold as well. Yer fingers almost froze off.” The both of you laughed at the memory, the image of you desperately trying to heat up your fingers by rubbing them against each other so clear in your mind.

You were about to continue the story, when all of a sudden you found your arms being lifted up to your chest. One by one, Soshiro removed your mittens, until your fingers stood exposed in the cold winter air.

“Instead of buying yourself gloves Y/n, ya asked me to hold yer hand instead, but im pretty sure that mine were just as cold as yours."

Soshiro chuckled. "And I wasn't allowed to wear my gloves anymore either, ya said somethin bout 'let's suffer together'. Froze my one hand off that day but the other one did feel kinda warm."

And just like that, Soshiro took your hand in his and smiled. It wasn't a grin or one of his sheepish smiles but one that instantly warmed your hands and heart.

“So..would it be selfish of me to ask you to do the same for me now?”

Your words temporarily got stuck in your throat as you found yourself unable to answer him. Soshiro was so smooth with his words, catching you off guard in the moments you least expected it. But most importantly, he was sweet and caring and meant everything he said.

“You're already holding them, silly.” You somehow managed to reply, slightly flustered by his tender smile.

“And I already feel so much better.” He replied, pocketing our mittens with a sheepish smile.

The snow continued to fall over the world as the two of you walked down the river, hand in hand, while enjoying the beautiful scenery and old memories.

[flightfoot]

ML Fanfic Recs for Completed Fics 7K - 10K Words

Only 12 fics for this category, there are generally fewer fics the higher the wordcount you look at.

All of these fics will be in my Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2024 Collection, and if you like that, please consider checking out my other collections, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2023, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2022, and Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics - Misc. Years.

Valentine Surprise by choppa01

Adrien had the perfect plan for spending Valentine's Day with Marinette. Unfortunately Chat Noir has the worst luck when it comes to keeping to the plan. But it all works out in the end, right? Right?

This is adorable. Chat Noir keeps running into people who need help on Valentine's Day and sacrificing his own plans in order to help others. Luckily, all is not lost, even if everything he set up for his date is.

---

Run Amok by @mirrankei

The more time a sentibeing spends away from their amok, the weaker that connection becomes. In time the magic of the amok, desperate to keep that connection, will move to an item that the senti is closer to. Adrien's amok is empty, and Felix and Duusu are on a frantic search to find the new item before someone else can get their hands on it. Without letting Adrien know any of this is going on, of course.

I really loved the concept of this fic, with the Amok moving, and seeing Felix's perspective was a treat! Especially with which item he suspected held the Amok. The senticousins' dynamic is always interesting to watch.

---

every wall that I knock down (is just a wall i'll replace) by @purplecatghostposts

Now it’s Félix’s turn. Adrien needs to know about his own existence before anything else and Félix wanted to have that conversation himself. Marinette didn’t argue when he told her as much. If anything, she seemed slightly relieved. Félix has been meaning to do it for a long time. Adrien had been at risk if he said anything before, not to mention it felt cruel to tell him when he would still have to bend to his father’s orders until the rings were retrieved. But Adrien wears his own amoks now, making his own choices with no one forcing him to do any of it. All physical risks are out of the way. Félix only needs to break it to him. The problem is that it never seems to actually be the right moment. (Or Post Season 5, Félix finally has the chance to tell Adrien about both of them being sentibeings and their family history. He’s not quite sure why his words keep failing him whenever he tries though.)

I love the analysis of Felix's thoughts and feelings about being a sentibeing, the psychological hangups that are preventing him from telling Adrien everything. I especially like how he doesn't even seem to realize HIMSELF what his problem is. Few people are able to really understand why they're reacting the way they are, why they feel the way they do, without either some deep examination or talking to someone.

---

sub-in by @purplecatghostposts

Wordlessly, Adrien slips the ring off his finger and offers it with an outstretched hand. Félix stares at it for a long moment, knowing in an instant what it is but processing what it means. “You can’t be serious.” Félix blurts out at last. Adrien, the traitor, can no longer fight the grin that stretches across his face. “Completely.” (Or Félix was still getting used to Adrien being Chat Noir, but now he must take on the performance of a lifetime and become Chat Noir. It’s more stressful than it sounds. Takes place in Season 2 of a Félix Joins Early AU.)

I loved seeing Felix's and Adrien's relationship here, they act a lot like siblings XD. Adrien's just a ray of sunshine while Felix is a grumpy cat, though he loves Adrien dearly. I love seeing Felix try out the catsuit, and also realize how VERY close his cousin is with Ladybug - and how good a sense she has for him. He's a good actor, but he didn't have time to fully study up on this role.

---

Rhododendrons by @buggachat

“These are your apology flowers?” “Yes,” he whispered. “They’re very pretty,” she said quietly, staring down at them, “But they’re not good for apologies.” “Oh, yeah?” he breathed. “They mean ‘danger’,” she said, raising a brow at him. — Marinette had always been so patient with Adrien when it came to matters of his father. She understood that he struggled to say 'no', that he was trying his best. She always made it clear that she loved him anyway. But even she had her limits. Her trust in him was wearing thin. Good, he couldn't help but think, standing at her front door with his father whispering into his earpiece. She shouldn't trust me.

Classic "Gabriel recruits Adrien to help him deal with Ladybug, taking advantage of his possession of Adrien's Amoks to ensure he has no choice" fic here! Buggachat's writing is as visceral as ever, you can really feel Adrien's misery at this situation.

---

Regardless of Perfection by @aidanchaser

Marinette rejects Adrien's proposal; he can't understand what he did wrong.

I love this look into how Adrien would respond if Marinette freaked out and rejected him, seemingly out of nowhere, because he tried to propose using one of his parent's wedding rings. He'd have no clue why she freaked out, and the way it would make him feel... it's not good. Luckily, Felix is there to help straighten things out!

---

forever (and a little bit) by @rainbow-arrow

Now the world was out of tune. It was messy and blurry and Luka could not fathom waking up tomorrow and accepting his new life. He had less than nothing. How could he care about anything when the better half of his melody was replaced with silence. --- see also: Luka's villain origin story

This is a tragedy, don't go into it expecting a happy ending. Adrien breaks up with Marinette because he's upset over her lying to him about his father's fate and not telling him he's a sentimonster, and gradually becomes closer to Luka instead, first as a friend and later as a lover. There are fragments of story from the future that let you know this love story isn't going to last...

It's rated M, though I think that's mostly because of Adrien's injuries. I can see why it's M rated, but I think most teens should be fine reading this.

---

I'd Do Anything For $20 (To Feel More In Control) by @shroomifiy

Bee!Nathaniel AU one shot (because I think he's silly teehee) Nathaniel hated keeping secrets, especially from someone he cared about. But unfortunately, it's not up to him to decide that. Marc feels hurt from Nathaniel's actions. He just wants his boyfriend to be honest with him. Hawkmoth is a bitch ass motherfucker. Enough said.

Fun Nathmarc fic here! I love seeing Nathaniel's interactions with Pollen, and him cope with the strain on his relationship with needing to run off all the time to go fight akumas with only the flimsiest of excuses. He loves Marc deeply, as deeply as Marc loves him. But Marc's getting suspicious and wondering what's going on, and Nathaniel doesn't think he can tell him.

---

the monster who loves you by @purplecatghostposts

Mum nods, clapping her hands together. “Your brother is finally feeling better and is coming home today! Isn’t that so exciting?” Félix pauses mid-bite, processing her words. Mum waits expectantly, as if expecting him to jump for joy, or his equivalent of it. But… Félix doesn’t have a brother. (Or Félix’s brother is a monster, but only in the most literal sense. Félix’s father is a monster despite being very, very human. He learns to navigate the world through these two truths.)

I loved how this story emphasized the differences between different kinds of monsters - the type who inhabit horror stories, who look terrifying, and the mundane, human sorts of monsters who are often the most dangerous. And how monsters can choose to act humanely, while humans can choose to act monstrously.

---

so say my name - and every color illuminates by katrinette

When an akuma hits Chat and turns him into an actual cat, Marinette can't just leave him on the streets overnight. She takes him home with her. But a cat might overhear any number of things he's not supposed to know...

I love this trope. Thankfully for Marinette, Chat retains his mind in cat form, so he's pretty cooperative. It also means that he remembers everything he sees and hears as a cat though, which is bad for secret identities, but great for their relationship.

---

Adrien's Wingman Plans Failed Successfully by @mexicancat-girl

Adrien’s going insane. His friends Nathaniel and Marc were so obviously in love with each other, but no one else seemed to see it. Well, that was gonna change! Adrien was now their number one wingman and will get those two comic-making boys to confess and kiss one another! Thankfully, he had Luka to help him along the way, even if the other boy insisted he should stop meddling.

This fic's great if you need something cute and wholesome! Adrien's a bit OOC (he's not nearly this oblivious or perky in the show), but this version of him is still a lot of fun. He seriously manages to have no clue how hard he's clearly crushing on Luka, even while Luka's actively trying to date him.

---

Chat's Discovery by hislittlelady

On patrol, Chat Noir stumbles upon Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s been missing for six months and now she’s got a secret: something to protect, something far more valuable than her secret identity.

So Marinette's secret identity got exposed, and she had to go on the run as a consequence. Luckily Chat found her, because taking care of this particular secret on her own would be... let's say, unsafe. Adrien's about ready to murder his father by the time he finds out everything.

[lokisswiftie]

My beloved ghost and Me (Spencer Reid x Reader)

3.2k words

First time writing for Spencer, please be nice! I’m open for requests :)

Summary: Spencer Reid was your entire world. Until he died, leaving you with nothing but the ghost of him. But Is the ghost of him more present than you expected?

Warnings: Main Character Death (it’s literally the premise of the fanfic), mentions of Guns/Gunshots, loss and grief is a key theme, Reader is probably depressed, BAU!Reader, Heavy Angst, descriptions of violence, Ghost!Spencer, possibly ooc Spencer because I’ve never wrote for him before, written with early seasons Spence in mind. Yes I did make Wuthering Heights the book, who is going to stop me? Tell me if there’s any I missed.

When you first met Spencer Reid, you were both young agents at the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Before he ever became close to you, you’d found yourself slightly intimidated by his vast intellect. Still, you grew close fast, Spencer Reid was a kind person, more than that all his little quirks seemed to make you like him even more. The rest of the team could see you both falling for eachother fast, they could see the way his eyes always found you after he told a fact- searching for your approval. He always got it.

There was reluctance to accept the love between you. Love could hurt, and the two of you had experienced enough hurt to know that. But try as he might, Spencer Reid could not pull his eyes away from you. He could not stop himself from wanting you. The longing between you grew and resistance was futile. So on that quiet night at some hotel the team was staying at, when he had sought you out and your lips had met for the first time, it was a breath of relief after so long pretending.

After that your life was filled with Spencer Reid, and you woke up in the morning when the sun was creeping through your windows and saw him next to you and knew this was were you needed to be. You saw a brightness in him that seemed to pull you towards him, like a moth to a flame. Though, in the time that Spencer Reid was in your life he had only ever hurt you once. The pain of that flame came unexpectedly.

You both knew that with your work, with the job that you both had that there was danger. Part of the reason you both had for being so reluctant to be together was that something happening to one of you in the field was a haunting thought. And it could happen. And though you reassured eachother constantly, promised to be careful and tried to be… it did happen.

You never should have left him. There was a sinking feeling of dread in your gut the moment Spencer even proposed the idea of splitting up, but you had pushed it down. You had given the okay, agreed to him taking the back of the building and pushed down the crawling feeling of nausea in your gut.

Less than a minute. Less than a minute after your beloved had left your sight, the snap of gunshots echoed through the air. Your head had snapped in the direction of the sound, hands flying to your radio to alert Hotch that something had happened. Something had gone badly wrong.

Try as you might since that day, you can’t forget the sight of Spencer on the floor of the building, dark blood pooling around him. His eyes had been wide with almost childlike surprise, looking at the blood on his clothes like he didn’t even realise what it was. You stayed beside him till the EMTs came, and he’d begged you not to go. While you had been holding onto his steadily whitening hand, he remained as calm as he could and promised you everything would be okay.

Spencer died in the hospital. The gunshots- yes, that bastard had shot the love of your life multiple times- had broken inside him. Just like something had broken inside you the moment the doctors told you and the team that Spencer was gone. The rest of your team were doing their best to support you, but loss weighs down heavily. Especially when someone like Spencer is gone.

Since Spencer died life has felt at a stand still. Mandatory leave has resulted in you trapped at your apartment. Surrounded by your shared belongings. In the months after he died, Penelope was a rock for you, and bless her she really did try to keep you steady. She forced you to actually venture outside the apartment. And on the days when she arrived and you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed, she stayed with you too.

Nothing could replace him though. And the team couldn’t be there all the time- you understood, of course. But when you were alone, you felt the darkness creeping in. You couldn’t bare to open the curtains so your apartment remained in half darkness most of the time. When you slept, you dreamt of Spencer. And though you knew it wasn’t helping… you were just glad to see his face again. Even if he did fade with the morning light.

Three months after Spencer died, and you think you’ve driven yourself mad with pacing your apartment like this. Your daily routine has turned into getting up, and finding a new area of the house to be flooded with memories of Spencer by. Today you were standing by the bookshelf, swaddled in your pyjamas. Tears wet your cheeks. They always do.

This apartment had originally been Spencer’s, but when you moved into it he had accommodated space for your belongings. Both of you being avid readers, a large chunk of that was books. Your fingers trace over the spines of countless books, eyes flickering to titles. You don’t have an eidetic memory, but you can remember Spencer’s voice reading these stories to you during cold winter days, his arms around you tightly. You pull your hands away when you find a book Spencer had read to you late one night when you were both stressed after a case. Wuthering Heights.

You can feel the tightness in your throat already, and when you close your eyes you can see him again. Your hands hover over the bookshelf while your mind flicks back to that day with Spencer. Your Spencer.

“Are You okay?”

Spencers voice broke you out of the trance you had been in, your head snapping up to look at him in the bathroom mirror. He looked exhausted, already wearing his pyjamas and leaning on the door with tired eyes. He’s been watching you. Watching you staring at your hands, soaking them in the sink for so long they’ve started to prune. The water stopped being filled with blood long ago, but the urge to scrub your hands so hard the skin peels prevails. You wipe your hand on your face, sniffing while you quickly drain the clear water from the sink.

“I’m fine. Sorry I’ll be right in-“

You freeze in the middle of drying your hands, staring at yourself in the mirror. You can see the haunted look in your own eyes. Somehow the flickering bathroom light isn’t bright enough for you to forget what you saw on that case. Both of you know it. Spencer watches you for a moment, watching how you visibly recoil at the sight of yourself. For a long moment neither of you speak, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing.

When Spencer’s arms gently encircle your form, you jump at first before settling into him. Admittedly, you’re shaking.

“It’s Not your fault.”

He whispers by your ear, his voice as soft as the sweater he’s wearing. You’re looking at yourself in the mirror and find your lip trembling. There’s a look of skittish fear in your eyes that’s strange to you. You don’t remember starting to cry.

“I know-“

You try and reassure him, unable to meet the soft brown eyes you know are staring back at you.

“It’s Not your fault,”

He repeats it anyway, saying your name with a firmness. you realise how much you’ve begun to lean on him, and how his hands steady you. You’re filled with a rush of emotions and you turn around in his arms before he can see you fully start sobbing. Spencer pulls you into his chest without hesitation. Your eyes sting so you press your face further into his neck, and he repeats those words over and over again until you can believe it. Until you can’t cry any more, and he’s gently rubbing your back and pulling away.

You know you must look even more of a mess now, skin puffy with broken sobs. But he doesn’t look at you with anything less than adoration. His hand comes up to hold the side of your face and you exhale shakily, the space between you tiny.

“Let’s go to bed baby,”

And so you do, following Spencer into your shared bedroom and slipping under the lavender covers. You look up In confusion when he doesn’t join you, and your eyes land on him as he finally comes to join you with a book in his hands. He smiles when he sees you squint in questioning, and you could melt at the adoration in his eyes at that moment. He slips into bed beside you, beckoning you closer which you eagerly comply with and find your designated place in his arms.

“What’s this?”

You question finally, looking up at the sharp curve of his jawline from where your head rests on his shoulder. His face is focused as he flicks through to the first page of the book.

“Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë.”

He replies, and sensing the scrunch of your nose in confusion he adds with a coy smile.

“I’m going to read to you.”

You’re sure you’re burdening him with your unpleasantness, because once again you find yourself replying in a far more abrasive tone than his.

“I’ll probably fall asleep before you’re even started.”

You grumble, and you’re not sure why you’re fighting off the affection but something within you wrestled with your morals, begging you to be difficult. Maybe to see if he’ll love you anyway.

He turns his head to look at you when you say that in that specific tone, and his eyes have this way of seeing through you.

“That’s the point. Get comfortable, I’m about to start.”

He turns his head back to the book and as promised, begins to tell the story to you like you’re a little kid. You settle down without another word of protest, too exhausted and too content by the sound of his voice to fight it anymore. You find yourself Inhaling deeply while you watch his fingers dart over the page, surrounded by the scent of his cologne and drifting in a sea of his voice.

As promised, you slip into a sleep quickly, one far more restful than would be without his help. And when Spencer tenderly brushes your hair back from your face you lean into his touch. Sometimes you still find yourself leaning, but find nothing left of him to hold you.

A choked gasp leaves your throat at the memory, and then before you can judge the situation better you grab the book tightly by the spine. It’s hurting your hand how hard you’re gripping the ornate cover, clammy hand shaking with rage. The sound of your own crying has become like white noise over the past few months. It's filled so much of your time recently that the sound of silence is more distressing than the wretched sobs.

Your eyes flash and once again your head is filled with images of Spencer. When his eyes appear in your mind, you hurl the book right at your front door. For a moment you choke on your own sobs, before caving into the bookcase and without much grace slump to the floor. With your eyes blurry with tears you can see the book, it’s spine looking cracked. Spencer would have hated that. Spencer would have hated you for doing that.

“God, I’m sorry-“

It’s pathetic, you tell yourself. How often you find yourself apologising to the memory of your partner. The reason why changes every time. There’s so many reasons to beg for his forgiveness now.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry-“

You wail, and you can’t even be bothered to think about your neighbours. The first few times your wailing had disturbed them they had been understanding, and they gave you the same pitying smiles in the corridors that everyone did. Now, you're certain their sympathy has worn off. The bookcase makes a noise while you suddenly slam your head back against it. It aches deep into your skull, and when you find that it somewhat muffled the sound of Spencer’s voice in your head you do it again. And again, and again and again and again and-

“Y/N.”

No. You’d been slamming your head back so hard you were starting to see stars. Surely reprieve from the torment that is his voice should have come by now.

“Y/N.”

No, he sounds clearer this time. You almost scream in frustration. You weakly hit your head again.

“No!-“

Your voice comes out in a scream that silences the voice for a moment. The relief doesn’t even get a chance to fill you, before your chest starts to feel like it’s being crushed. You keep Your eyes screwed tight shut to avoid the sting of your own salty tears, and deep down to avoid his voice. Jesus, you must be past the point of insanity now.

“Y/N!”

Like a crackle of thunder, Spencer Reid’s voice echoes into the air around you. And it is a startling realisation, one that spurs you to blink your eyes open- but you’re certain. You didn’t make that up. He’s here.

Tears blur your vision, and you struggle to make out the room in front of you for a moment before it swims into focus. The sight rips the breath from your lungs all at once. Your eyes travel up, from his shoes which are shiny and polished, to the top of his head where his hair shines like a halo in the warm lighting of your apartment. There, like a mirage in the depth of the desert, is Spencer. Your Spencer. And he looks back at you with soft eyes.

The seconds where you stare up at him like a worshipper to a god seem to stretch into hours. You gape like a fish wrenched from the ocean, silently begging for words. Begging for an explanation for the man you love standing In Front of you, when for the past months all you’ve done is remember him dead.

Finally the silence breaks when you wheeze out a reply, breathing his name like a prayer while tears threaten to cloud your vision again. You frantically wipe them away, lest he disappear from the world again and leave you more broken than ever.

“Spencer?”

He looks back at you, his eyes startlingly alive. So bright, you could almost kid yourself that the young man before you is still alive and well, and not buried with all of his future in the ground with him. The guilt eats like maggots under your skin, a rot you’re certain is polluting the air around you. The way he looks at you with some kind of divine forgiveness in his eyes does not ease this feeling.

“I’m here, it’s me.”

He replies, his voice eerily nostalgic. And then he reaches out a hand to you, and you look at it. You realise how pathetic you must look, on the ground with your lips wobbling while you suck in breath after breath. You can’t seem to care when all you feel is disbelief. You stare at his palm; you don’t trust yourself to grab ahold of it in case he vanishes like mist in front of you.

“How… are you here?”

Your voice cracks and his fingers twitch like the sound pains him. You look up at him and can’t restrain the flood of liquid to your eyes when you say the words out loud.

“You’re dead.”

He looks down at you, his eyes warm with heartbreaking pity, and then he comes closer as he drops to the ground. You watch with stunned half believing eyes as he sits beside you, leaving a distance of approximately five inches between you both as he too comes to lean against the bookshelf.

“I was. I don’t know. I think I still am, I’m not sure I-“

His voice is like a fever dream, every syllable making you shiver with memories. You stare up at his face, and he cuts himself off and looks down at you. That’s when you know this must be real, because he has that look. The one that seems like he’s totally enraptured with you. None of your previous visions of him had given you that mercy, the burn of hatred in his eyes was more common. Spencer looks down at you with sorrow.

“I remember dying. I remember… watching everything that happened after.”

He explains, fixing his eyes on his hands while you stare at him numbly.

“I watched you for so long, Y/N. I tried to talk to you- I think I wasn’t strong enough then, maybe or something like that.��

Your heart, which you didn’t know could still shatter further, somehow does. Spencer. He’s been here, within reach but somehow not. If you could remember how to, you would laugh bitterly at the revelation that the universe has found yet another way to kick you down.

“What changed? How are you here now?- I don’t understand-“

You frantically ask, and he quickly reaches for you. His eyes flash with hurt for a moment when you duck away from his touch before they fill with understanding.

“Y/N, please- I’m here. I don’t know how, I think maybe I’m… stronger? I’ve been trying to get you to notice-“

You listen to him and at this your mind flashes with memories of the various objects that have been falling off of tables. You didn’t care at the time, but the pieces fall into place now. He continues.

“…I saw you hurting yourself and I didn’t think about it, I just spoke. And you heard me.”

There’s a moment of silence where the world seems to settle- it turned on its head when you saw him, and you’re not sure it will ever return to the way it was before. But the world around you settles as you grapple with the knowledge.

You stare at your palms stunned, and you can hear the anxious tapping of Spencer’s fingers against his thigh. It’s a sound you didn’t realise you’d missed. It’s then you realise sluggishly that he’d tried to touch you, and you’d pushed him away. It’s then that your body is filled with overwhelming need for Spencer, and it’s the moment that you realise you can have him again.

He lets out an exclamation when you quickly turn towards him and briefly look at his face. Not bloody, not bruised, not pale and lifeless. You choke on a sob, and launch yourself into his arms again.

“Oh my god, Spencer-“

You sob, and his arms wrap around you without hesitation. He’s just as eager to have you in his arms again, and he doesn’t flinch at the way you squeeze him harshly. He’s real. You reach up and you can feel the softness of his hair under your fingertips. You bury your face in his neck and you can smell his cologne once more. Then his hand moves up to gently cup the back of your head, which you’ve only just realised has started to sting. He cradles you close to him, and you can sense the worry emanating from him.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

He whispers, and presses a firm kiss to your forehead. You shudder at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as his breath tickles the hair on your neck.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

[dioslesbianwife]

Here are my headcannons for Jojo villain house and how I think they’d each approach chores

Dio

Refuses to do chores outright. He sees himself as above such menial labor and will either try to manipulate someone else into doing them or make excuses.

If he has to clean, expect a dramatic show of irritation. He’ll use The World to do everything inhumanly fast, pausing time and leaving the room spotless but making sure everyone knows how beneath him the task was.

Biggest offender: Leaving blood filled wine glasses around the house when he forgets about them.

Kars

Insists on having things done “the right way” and will redo someone’s work if it’s not up to his impossibly high standards.

Enjoys organizing. He might spend hours rearranging bookshelves, ensuring they’re sorted by theme, era, and importance to human evolution.

He delegates tasks to others but criticizes their technique endlessly.

Biggest offender: Lecturing everyone about how primitive humans are and how they’ve “desecrated” the art of maintaining a clean space.

Yoshikage Kira

The only one who genuinely enjoys chores- as long as it’s quiet. He finds cleaning therapeutic and uses it as an excuse to stay away from the others.

His favorite chore is folding laundry, particularly because it lets him admire the way hands move as they grab onto fabric, bend, and fold.. He folds everything with military precision.

He despises dirty dishes and will passive aggressively complain about anyone leaving them in the sink.

Biggest offender: The ungodly amount of nail clippings he produces.

Diavolo

Doesn’t do chores, period. He considers them a waste of time and relies on Doppio to handle everything. If questioned, he’ll walk away.

He gets visibly annoyed when the house isn’t clean but refuses to do anything about it himself. If someone confronts him, he’ll use King Crimson to skip the argument entirely.

Biggest offender: Leaving half empty coffee cups everywhere.

Doppio

He takes on messes left by Diavoll without complaint. He tries to stay cheerful, but even he gets overwhelmed when Diavolo’s mess becomes too much. Occasionally, he’ll mutter to himself about how unhelpful the others are.

Enjoys vacuuming because of its repetitive and calming nature, aslo it drowns out the chaos of the house.

Biggest offender: Picking up random items to make his phone calls and leaving them out of place.

Enrico Pucci

Insists on assigning everyone their tasks at the start of the week, using philosophical arguments to convince them that chores and daily routines are part of some higher plan.

He’s efficient but doesn’t tolerate laziness, constantly nagging the less helpful men to pull their weight.

Pucci has a habit of singing hymns while sweeping or mopping the floor, which unnerves everyone.

Biggest offender: Rearranging everyone’s personal belongings to organize the house according to “the Lord’s” standards.

Funny Valentine

Treats chores as a matter of patriotic pride. He gives long winded speeches about how a clean home reflects the strength of the household.

He has a habit of delegating tasks and overseeing them rather than just doing them himself. He’ll help if absolutely necessary but only with "important" jobs like cooking or maintaining the garden.

Obsessively cleans anything that might tarnish his image, like the front porch or living room. He makes sure guests (if they ever get any) think the house is always immaculate.

Biggest offender: He sometimes makes a mess intentionally to test others' "dedication to the cause."

Chore Dynamics in the House

Dio and Kars constantly fighting over who’s more above doing chores.

Pucci trying to convince Dio into participating, only for Dio to scoff and vanish dramatically.

Kira scolding Diavolo for leaving things dirty while Doppio tries to mediate.

Best team: Doppio and Kira. They’re the only ones who actually get things done without complaining.

Worst team: Dio and Diavolo. They’ll spend hours arguing about something and never lift a finger.

Pucci and Kira end up supervising everything like a pair of exasperated parents, while Valentine alternates between helping and giving motivational speeches no one asked for.

[bunnycatalina]

Remote Pleasure - Sylus x MC

A short #Sylus smut drabble from my twt that someone requested to be cross posted here ♡

The challenge was simple - catch the newest plushie at the arcade within 5 tries. Of course there was a catch to this — a vibrator buzzing deep within her, leaving her at the mercy of sylus and the app he was controlling on his phone.

"Focus kitten, didn't you say you wanted the latest plushie in the arcade?" he chuckles lowly by her ear. The electronic sounds of the cheery arcade music and loud gaming machines echo around them.

A low buzzing sound is drowned out by the loud ambience around them despite the lack of other customers in their corner of the arcade.

It had been 4 rounds, making this her last try to win the challenge. Sylus had made sure that every time she was focused on the task, he would break that focus. Dark eyes watched her with his phone held nonchalantly in his hand. 

A quick tap on his screen to switch up the intensity of the vibrator at the last moment, causing her hand to slip or the timing to be missed resulting in failure.

Her original determination to win this challenge was quickly losing out to the build up of lust and excitement of what they were doing.

Her vision swims as she tries her best to focus on the task, hand tightly gripping onto the joystick while her eyes furrow into a squint.

Caged between sylus’s arms and the machine in front of her, the task of catching that silly plushie for a challenge is slowly slipping from her mind.

“Sylus…mmph please..” She whimpers softly, giving into the impulse to drop her head against the cool surface of the machine in front of her.

Warm puffs of breath fogs the glass as she pants shallowly, fingers tightening their grip as she ground her thighs together. 

The thump of her heart beating loudly in her ears as the adrenaline rush of possibly getting caught by someone in such a position had her drifting on a high.

What a sight she must be right now, flushed and weakly leaning against an arcade machine.

“Ah ah,” he tuts, voice teasing as his hand slides down to grip her hips “weren’t you the one that said she could win this plushie easily - no matter what?”

Pulling her away from the machine, her hips flushed against his own where she could feel his excitement pressing against her. 

His fingers slowly trail up the side of her body to grip her chin, lifting it up so that she would meet his gaze in the reflection of the glass.

“Now focus. The sooner you catch that plushie the sooner you’ll get your reward sweetie.” 

His sardonic grin taunts her as she watched his red eyes flicker with mischief and something darker.

Breathing deeply she tries to pull herself together, to ignore the buzzing between her legs that has been driving her insane for the last twenty minutes or so.

Glaring at him she straightens up as much as she could, manoeuvring the claw over the plushie before slamming the button with more force than she intended.

“Please please please” she chanted mentally, “just let me win this and go already. I can’t take much more.”

As she watched the claw slowly sink down towards the toy, her eyes catch onto his gaze in the reflection.

A wink.

She watched as he fiddles with his phone feeling the change rather than seeing it as a shock of pure electric pleasure shoots through her. 

Sliding the intensity up another notch on the app in his phone, Sylus intently watches as her expression crumbles when the new setting kicked in.

The intoxicating way her cheeks flushed and eyes widen with shock before slamming shut.

The game long forgotten as her knees give in and she drops towards the ground, hand slapped across her mouth to hold back a keening moan behind bitten lips.

Legs shaking she could feel her body tense up as she rode through the waves of her release, the crash of the adrenaline as she prayed that no one would walk round the corner to catch them.

The vibrator that had been buzzing relentlessly within her finally stops, giving her a blissful reprieve as she catches her breath. The chime of her victory rang from the machine, as the plushie tumbled out of the slot to the ground near her. 

“Good job kitten” a low voice husky with desire greeted her as she panted, leaning bonelessly against the bottom of the claw machine.

A tanned arm reached by her, picking up the plushie to toss in her lap before wrapping around her spent form to carry her.

“Now it’s time to go home and collect your reward” he promised, fingers curl around the plush of her thighs holding her against him as Sylus strode out of the arcade.

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Artistic S/O

Characters: Shikamaru, Deidara, Itachi, and Sai

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru is low-key impressed by your skills, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it often.

He likes to lay on the floor, watching you work while cloud-watching out the window. He finds your creativity soothing.

When he’s stuck on strategies, he’ll casually ask for your perspective. “If this were a painting, how would you balance it?” He doesn’t admit it, but your insight helps him think outside the box.

He secretly loves when you draw or paint him, even if he tries to act like he doesn’t care. If you catch him blushing, he’ll just say, “You could’ve picked someone more interesting.”

Shikamaru will fall asleep in your studio sometimes, claiming your space is just too peaceful.

Deidara

He’s obsessed with your work. Being an artist himself, he sees you as a fellow creative soul. He’s constantly hyping you up, calling your pieces “art” in the most passionate way.

If your style is different from his, he loves the contrast and often debates with you about what “true art” is. He claims his explosive art is superior, but deep down, he’s amazed by your skill.

Deidara will absolutely collaborate with you. Imagine him using small clay bombs to add dynamic texture to a sculpture or piece of art you’re working on.

He’d be the type to randomly grab a paintbrush or pencil to “improve” your work, though it’s usually just him trying to bond. “Huh? What do you mean I ruined it? This is genius!”

He keeps your art on display in his personal space, showing it off to anyone who visits.

Itachi Uchiha

Itachi is quietly supportive of your passion. He admires your ability to express yourself through art, as it’s something he struggles with.

He finds watching you create incredibly calming. After long missions or stressful days, he’ll sit nearby in silence, letting the sound of your pencil or brush soothe him.

Itachi is a big fan of meaningful, symbolic art, so if your work has hidden themes or stories, he’ll notice immediately and ask thoughtful questions.

He’ll secretly collect small pieces of your work, like sketches or paintings, and keep them tucked away in his belongings as little reminders of you.

If you ever draw or paint him, he’s deeply touched, though he might not say it outright. You’ll just catch a soft smile and a quiet, “Thank you.”

Sai

Sai is fascinated by your art. As an artist himself, he’s genuinely interested in your techniques, tools, and inspirations. Expect him to bombard you with questions.

He loves comparing styles with you. Sai’s work tends to be precise and controlled, so if your art is more freeform, he’ll admire how expressive it is.

He’ll happily share tips and even teach you some of his ink techniques if you’re interested. In turn, he’s eager to learn from you, no matter how different your style is.

Sai isn’t the best with words, so he often expresses his feelings for you through little drawings or paintings. You’ll randomly find sweet sketches left on your desk or in your bag.

If you draw him, he’ll analyze every detail and take it as an opportunity to understand how you see him. “Is this how I look to you? Interesting…”

.

.

.

Masterlist

[akumaparker]

Color Me Pink -Nishimura Riki

Summary: you and Riki are childhood friends. But when Riki is approached by a guy at school asking about you, unexpected feelings rise to the surface.

Content: mild swearing, jealous!Riki, he's oblivious to his own feelings, feat. 02s

Work count: 1.4k (sorry)

Author's note: hihi! This is my first enha fic! I haven't written in a while and I also wrote this at 1 am so I'm sorry if it's bad 🙏 anyways thanks for reading byeee

Rain beat against the window of the history classroom, and Riki was watching the raindrops race each other to the bottom of the window pane. Mr. Lewis was droning on about some war or something or other, he wasn’t quite sure. History was never his strongest subject.

He turned to you, nudging your shoulder.

“Do you want to go to the arcade after school today? I need to get enough tickets to collect that limited edition Pokémon figure.”

You turned to him, nodding.

He grinned, and returned to his grueling task of betting which raindrop would win the race.

The bell rang signaling the end of another boring lecture.

Riki grabbed your hand, dragging you out of your seat.

“Come on!”

You giggled at his enthusiasm, and Riki grinned. He loved it when you laughed like that. And he loved that he was the only one who really got to see it.

The neon lights and the robotic sounds of the arcade games radiated around the enclosed space. Kids ran from machine to machine, as tired parents chased after them, piles of tickets and sodas in hand. A group of teenagers were playing a car racing game, and the smell of greasy cheese pizza floated in the air.

Riki raced over to his favorite game- Dance Dance Revolution. He was pretty good at this game, if he said so himself. He put the tokens in, and selected his favorite song to play- Replay by Shinee.

He began to follow along, flawlessly hitting each step.

You watched him from afar, sipping your soda.

His face was contorted in focus, sweat dripping down his black hair.

Riki finished the game, and turned to look for you.

You waved to him, and he hurried over.

“Y/N! I finally have enough tickets!” He jumped up and down while hugging you, which caused you to laugh.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back after I exchange these tickets!”

He approached the counter with prizes, his eye on the best prize of all- a limited edition Pokémon figurine that he had been trying to get for months.

Behind the counter was someone he recognized from school. Kai, he thought his name was.

“Hey Riki.”

“Hey Kai! I’ll take the limited-edition Pikachu figurine please”, he said, slapping down the pile of tickets on the counter.

“You got it.”

Kai turned to the wall behind him, and grabbed the figurine.

“Here you go. Hey, by the way, you’re friends with Y/N, right?”

Riki was confused by his question but nodded in response.

Kai blushed, a hand creeping to itch the back of his neck.

“Do you think you could introduce me? I’ve had a crush on her for the longest time, but I don’t know how to approach her.”

Riki felt his stomach churn a little, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was the questionable hot dog he ate earlier from that street vendor.

“Uh... sure. How about you sit with us at lunch tomorrow and I’ll introduce you?”

Kai let out a relieved breath.

“Thanks so much. I owe you one.”

As he walked away, Riki was apprehensive about introducing you to Kai. What if he was a bad person? What if he only wanted to use you? He would have to keep a close eye on him.

The next day at school, Riki kept his promise. He found Kai in the lunch line, and brought him over to where you were sitting.

“Everyone, this is Kai. He’s going to join us for lunch today.”

A chorus of hellos echoed around the table.

Kai sat next to you.

“Hi.”

“Hi. We have English together, right?”

“Right!”

Riki watched as the two of you engaged in an animated conversation. You laughed, one of those genuine laughs that only he got to see. What could Kai be saying that’s so funny? He’s way funnier than that guy.

He was broken out of his trance by Jake, who tapped his shoulder.

“Dude, you’re going to burn holes in Kai’s face from your staring.”

Riki scoffed, “I am not staring.”

“Uh-huh...sure.”

“I’m not. I’m just...curious as to what he’s saying that could be that funny.”

Jake gave him a knowing look before returning to his sandwich.

The time for history class came around again, and Riki was utterly bored out of his mind.

Nudging your shoulder, he passed you a little note.

Do you want to do a movie night with the guys tonight?

He watched as you scribbled a response with your blue fountain pen.

I can’t, I’m going to see a movie with Kai tonight :( Maybe another time?

He nodded, and you gave him an apologetic look before returning your attention to the lecture.

Riki was disappointed. You always went to movie night, and now you’re suddenly bailing? For this guy you just met earlier?

He rested his hand in his palm, resuming his intense daydreaming session.

There he was, at Jay’s house, a bucket of buttery popcorn in hand, and his favorite movie playing, but he couldn’t focus. His attention kept drifting to you- what were you doing? Were you laughing at something Kai said? Were you dressed in that pretty floral dress you looked so pretty in?

Riki felt a discomforting pain in his chest that he couldn’t quite place. Jealousy, maybe? It was probably just because he had been single for so long, that he was jealous of your love life. Yeah, that was it.

Sighing, Jake grabbed the remote, pausing the movie.

“Hello? Earth to Riki?” He waved his hand in front of his face to break his trance.

“Hmm? What?”

“You’ve been distracted all night”, Jay said. “Do you want to watch something else?”

Riki shook his head, “No I like this movie.”

“Then why aren’t you watching it? Is it because Y/N is with Kai? On a date?”, Sunghoon asked.

Riki opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated.

Jake gasped.

“It is, isn’t it. You’re jealous!”

Riki let out an awkward chuckle, “No of course not! I’m just... worried about her.”

Riki looked down at his hands as he said it.

The older boys shared a knowing look, but decided not to press him further on it.

Riki pulled out his phone, clicking on your messages.

R u done with the movie yet?

He tried to refocus on watching the movie, and he eventually fell asleep.

The next day, you still hadn’t responded to his message.

He texted you again to ask if you wanted to hang out, but you said that you couldn’t- you were studying with Kai.

Red-hot anger bubbled inside him.

You were his best friend.

Suddenly you don’t have time for him now that another guy came into the picture?

The next day, Sunday, was your usual arcade day, but you bailed on that too, saying you had too much homework this weekend and Kai was helping you with a history project.

All of Monday, Riki decided to ignore you. See how shitty it felt.

After the last class of the day, he hurried out the main entrance of the school.

“Riki! Riki! I know you can hear me!”

You were calling after him, but he kept walking away.

He made it all the way to his house before he felt a hand grab his own.

He turned to see your panting figure looking at him with pleading eyes.

You dropped his hand before asking, “Did I do something wrong? You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

Riki rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you go hang out with Kai, isn’t he your boyfriend now or something?”

You were shocked at what he said.

“No, why would you think that?”

Riki let out a frustrated groan, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’ve ditched me all weekend to go hang out with him?”

Now it was your turn to be mad.

“Are you serious, Riki? I didn’t spend one weekend with you and you’re mad at me?”

“Yeah. You know how important our arcade days are to me, and you bailed on me for that stupid guy! I don’t want to be your friend if you keep seeing him, because clearly, he’s more important than our friendship!”

Riki turned on his heel and stormed off.

You scoffed, and followed him inside his house.

“You don’t get to tell me who I can hang out with Riki!”

Riki slammed the door shut behind him, setting his bag down by the shoe rack in the hallway, before he turned to face you.

“Yes, I do!”

“Why, why do you care so much?”

“You’re my best friend, that’s why!”

You dejectedly sighed, running a hand through your hair.

There was a beat of silence before Riki spoke again.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your new boyfriend? Don’t waste your time here with me.”

“What is so wrong with me hanging out with him? Is it so hard to believe someone might actually think I’m attractive, or want to go out with me? Is that it? Cause that’s what it fucking feels like you’re saying, Riki.”

“No, of course not! I just... I just-”

“Just what Riki?”

“I’m in love with you okay! I’ve been in love with you for my whole life and I was stupid to not realize it until now."

His voice softened as he continued.

"I love the way you laugh, and the way you eat the head off the gummy bears first. I love everything about you.”

There was a silence as you processed his words.

“Y/N.. please say something.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear those words.”

With that, you walked towards him before placing your lips on his. Your hands found their way to his neck, as one of his hands cupped your cheek.

The kiss was slow, but electric. He gently kissed you, all of his love pouring out into this one moment.

You pulled away slowly, blushing.

Riki cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So... does this mean that you feel the same?”

You let out a giggle before ruffling his hair affectionately.

“You’re such a dumbass. Yes, Riki. I love you too.”

Riki grinned from ear to ear, before pulling you back in for another kiss.

You were lost in the kiss, when you heard someone clear their throat.

The two of you broke the kiss, pulling apart quickly.

Jake, Jay and Sunghoon were standing in the entryway of the kitchen,a smug, satisfied look on their faces.

They exchanged looks before Jake exclaimed, “Fucking finally!”