#thank you tet

[phantombs]

Happy New Year, Cuong. [ Atieno is clearly thrilled to bring in the new year with him.]

“Thank you.” The paperwhites bleed their honey-sweet welcomes. The tteokguk is cooking. The night swells with glee. Cường, walking toward them now, aglow with the burning lanterns outside, feels fuller than he has been of late. And that? That is for his one company, he wagers. It’s been a long stretch of decades since he’s shared New Years Day, after all, and that fails to mention the visions in his head, and god pity his wretched soul -- the ghosts that wallow. But Atieno, radiant, is no phantom, are they? Radiant and alive, he thinks that ‘no.’ “Happy new year,” he breathes sleepily. Cường sits. The cushions by the window seat creak beneath them as he does so, and pointedly, he moves to dangle a little charm by their face. “Good luck,” he explains. “You know, having you here tonight is a sign of a very lucky year, I think. And I figure, if I’m going to be lucky, I won’t be greedy this time. I should be fair and have you share in that, too.” How generous of him. He takes their hand carefully, gingerly between his gardener-hard palms, and loops the red string about their littlest finger. It’s dainty and small, filled with a little peach petal off a plant he’d grown, and with the streets below giddy, he tilts his head toward the window. There sits a humble kumquat tree. The fireworks glow his face. “This is what they do in Vietnam. Hang this on a branch." And a little conniving-- "Tell it what you wish for.”

[daydreamingcolors]

I have this same hope to see small accounts win again. The one giveaway I did win was back in the peak era (at least for me since I took a very long break after). The artist was very active here at the time ( still is I think?) but were very sweet and pretty popular. I still was new on here but won one of their top prizes, a handmade SD winter coat. And I still have it!

I like to believe that not all bjd giveaways are rigged. I'm a very small account and I've won 2 giveaways. Sure, they were not big giveaways, but the people hosting them were much, much bigger than myself.

~Anonymous

[whiskeyskin]

This

Premise: Astarion begins to understand how hellish it is catching feels.

• Astarion x afab!Tav • 18+ • M rating • MDNI

Astarion's POV, reference to blood feeding, warmth and comfort, hating the fact he's falling, light PinV, lotus pose, sensual, romantic, playful, past trauma's getting in the gods damned way, reliving bad memories, understand, love, deciding not to have sex, feels

2.6k words

Thank you to @casualya for this beautiful picture 😍💜

•°•°•

Astarion gasped, his mouth and throat coated in their delicious blood. So decatent, so warming and sweet. He felt intoxicated by it. A smile curled across his lips, still breathing heavily, mouth open.

"Can you taste the whiskey?" Tav asked, through a murmur of light-headedness and amusement.

Astarion hummed in appreciation against their soft, taut skin. He adored the way they smelled after he fed. Like warm lust, soft bedding and comfort on a rainy day.

He hated it.

Especially when they softly rubbed his back in soothing circles, making his resolve wane further.

His eyelids drooped as he slowly blinked against the lulling feeling of being with them like this. Naked and intimate but with no immediate threat of sex.

"I can," he licked his lips, catching drops of their taste in the creases of his mouth, "Is that why you taste especially warming tonight, my dear?"

He lazily dragged his tongue over the two slowly oozing pierce marks; the evidence of his condition inflicted on another.

Tav shuddered and grazed the back of his neck to lightly fist and twirl his hair. Astarion grasped the Amulet of Silvanus around his neck, muttered the incantation and the tent flooded with blue healing energy.

Tav's naked chest pressed against his own as they inhaled deeply, carried by the spell's energy. They sighed out and peppered kisses against his forehead to the side of his cheek, their skin now feeling similar temperature, instead of his usual cool against their warmth.

There they sat, facing each other in relaxed embrace, Tav's splayed legs hooked over his own. The rhythm of Tav's breathing a sweet lullaby as he closed his eyes, leaning his temple against theirs in complete bliss.

It was awful.

All he'd wanted was a little promise of protection. For them to fall for his manipulations and honeyed words. To use his extraordinary talents and devastating good looks to his own advantage for a little tet au tet. Sex for protection.

Not this. Not kindness and understanding. Not feeling rested and nurtured and important. Feeling safe, truly safe with them. With all of their tadpoled rabble, in fact.

He could feel the warmth radiating off their core as they sat like this, the blood he'd drained from them headed only one possible place.

He could smell them. The allure of their sex. Their want and need for him. Their siren's call to sheath himself fully inside them. But with Tav, there was the safety of knowing that it need not go any further than this, unless he wanted it.

While they didn't understand the full severity of his complicated relationship with sex, they were acutely aware of it and always insisted on his unabashed consent and when it wasn't, they'd simply dressed themself, said goodnight and left for their tent.

It had left him flabbergasted.

That was the most erotic part of sex with Tav for him. The he had that power. That control to say "No" and they would obey.. listen.. allow it.

He wouldn't be forced to go through with it. Wouldn't be compelled to do it. Wouldn't do it to avoid lashings. They would simply get dressed and leave for their own bunk.

However that stint ended the first night Tav had suggested to sit like this together while feeding, for the sake of intimacy; completely naked, with no sex at all. They'd walked out of tent without a word, leaving him unexpectedly frustrated.

He'd riled himself wild the rest of the next adventuring day with the notion of fucking with free-will, that they'd been fucking every night since in some fashion, or another.

The freedom to have sex only, and if only, he wanted to but to still have the electricity of the warm up act? He could feel himself growing harder with the thought.

"Should I ignore it?" Tav whispered against the shell of his ear.

Astarion swallowed, traces amounts of the blood still present. He pulled them even closer, the head of his cock jutting against their swollen lips. Tav made a small gasp, then he felt a small smile against his skin before a kiss was pressed there.

"Tell me we don't have to.." he started, and fanned his fingers out across their back.

"Never. We never have to do anything unless you want to." Tav answered, shaking their head softly.

Astarion's eyes fluttered closed, "Tell me you'll leave if I asked you to." He said, trying to suppress a moan, as his fingers dug against the musculature of their back.

"Without question." They replied. Astarion squeezed his eyes shut tighter and bit his lip.

This. This was something he'd never had. Freedom to say no.

He'd hadn't experienced this, not in over 200 years. Someone who respected his choices, his opinions. Someone who empowered him to take chances in his own abilities, to find confidence in new skills. Someone that he found himself searching for in a crowded place. Someone that openly gave themselves to him without expecting anything in return. Someone who he.. cared for.

Gods below.

"Do you want me to leave?" Tav asked, their tone non-threatening and understanding.

Astarion shook his head and pressed his face into the crook of their neck - his safe place, his haven.

It was Hell.

He pulled them even closer, the bedroll unbunching as he lifted them higher on his thighs and spread their sweet lips apart.

His hard length glided from their clit to their entrance and gently prodded, their hole twitched against the intrusion then relaxed.

Tav breathed a moan and leaned back their head, exposing their neck to him again. Both of them began to writhe with miniscule movement, rocking against each other.

His cock butted from the position he'd tried to suavely place himself in and slid wetly up the length of their vulva.

They chuckled breathless and contented, "Why does sex never go as smoothly as it does in novels and verse?" Tav mused, tilting their head in amusement.

He softly snorted a laugh and burned the brand of his kiss against their clavicle, then smirked out the side of his mouth, "Indeed, my love. I need a little help it seems."

He gently thrust upwards, his cock gliding against their pink, glistening lips, so they would understand what he meant.

"Picking at the lock but need an extra hand to open it?" Tav laughed softly, reaching between them to gently push his length into the correct angle for this position. Astarion flexed his thighs to afford more space and lift them higher.

Their wet folds made deliciously slick noises as his cock slid into place and his head was engulfed by their tight entrance.

They both gasped, their breath mingling as they moaned together. Tav bit their lip and gently rolled their hips to tease his tip, to sucker and release as he barely entered them.

Suddenly, he was plagued with his well practised, tired and loathsome feeling of revulsion and hatred. He tried to push it back, to contain it to the subconscious part of his brain.

He pulled himself back, to look down at the sensation. A low twang of lust to hit in his belly watching the head of his cock disappearing into their waiting vagina, massaging and teasing him.

Tav's hand was resting on his lower abdomen to keep him in place, the other wrapped around his neck.

"You feel so good, my darling."

Tav smiled seductively, but said nothing.

Again, the feeling of revulsion reared up inside him, filling his throat with bile. He shook his head against it, snorting breath through his nose.

"Tell me it feels good, Tav."

"Always, Star."

Tav slid their hand from the back of his neck to delicately capture his jaw, feather light and soft. He leaned in desperately, folding in on himself to get closer.

He was taken back to the palace, to that bedroom.. to the hundreds of faceless underneath, or on top of him.

He gritted his teeth, and strained against it. He blinked back the visions, willing himself through it. He just needed to get through it and everything would be fine. He just needed to find another way through it than his usual routine of disgust and revulsion at what he was doing.

It wasn't a victim, not another body to appease Him. It was Tav. It was..

"We can stop-" came Tav's voice, concern tinged their tone.

"-No," he protested, "Don't you dare." He warned with a devilish snarl, kissing them deeply, tongue lashing with theirs.

He wouldn't be beaten by it. Wouldn't let Cazador keep ruining his life.

Astarion gripped then curve of Tav's ass to pull them toward him, to make them full with his cock but they dug in their heels to stop him.

"Wait, let me.." they trailed off, leaning themselves backwards with one arm to give then leverage.

They rolled their hips upwards in languid circles, using their strength to hold themselves up higher.

Astarion stared down at their meeting. His pale purple head dipping shallowly into their hot, pink cunt. Their combined slick glistening as his tip reappeared from their entrance. He almost swallowed his own tongue.

He never looked at it before Tav. Where the sexes met. It disgusted him. Why would he. He would always look away, or look between the mark's eyebrows. Never in the eyes and never watched how bodies moved with him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? How I envelope around you, welcome you inside me?"

"Y-yes.. my d-darling," Astarion struggled, feeling his cock thicken as he stared down at Tav's inviting folds.

It felt like he was being choked from desire as the feeling sent electricity through his hips and down to his toes. The slow, deliberate friction suckering against his most sensitive part.

However, despite his efforts, the elation was soon tainted by nausea and self-loathing.

Gods he wanted to be normal. To experience and enjoy sex the way you're supposed to. To have the ability to relish in the delights of the carnal, not to be repulsed by them.

He wanted it desperately. Almost as much he wanted Cazador dead. He wished he could give himself fully without the baggage and hurt and trauma he carried.

They deserved more than him. Deserved to be with someone that could make them truly happy. That didn't come with emotional scars that dug so deep they'd never fully heal.

What could he possibly have to offer, except his exceptional ability in bed?

He wrapped an arm around Tav to help take the weight and slid them down his cock another inch, to envelop his tip completely.

Tav whimpered and bit their bottom lip.

Pleasure clenched low in his gut and Astarion moaned, and sought out their nipple to suck and bite on. Something tangible, something physical. To keep him present, to keep him centred. Something to show his affection for them, how they made him feel, what they were doing to him; despite his past creating road blocks.

Tav gasped and heaved their chest upward, legs splaying further. Astarion bucked in rhythm to add to motion.

"I adore watching you like this. Spread for me. Moaning just for me.."

It was true. He did. He just desperately wished that the act itself wasn't marred by sickening, cloying hatred.

He was so conflicted. He understood that this was different; the feelings when he was with Tav were unlike anything he'd experienced for those torturous decades, but the other darker side of himself refused to relent it's vice-like grip.

"I'm very happy for you, Star but I'm going to get a cramp if I don't move." Tav chuckled, resting themself back down onto the bedroll, his cock popped out and now felt cold from the lack of warmth.

"Well, can't very well have that, can we?" He mocked with a true playfulness only they brought out in him, "Shall we change positions in a very sexy and alluring manner, my dear?"

"Oh, not our usual tangle of limbs and curse words that come from us trying to extracate ourselves?"

"Perish the thought. I'm a consummate professional."

"Professional bastard."

"That too."

They giggled softly within each others embrace, then pressed a familiar kiss. Astarion lingered just a second longer than they did before Tav scooched themselves back and stretched out their legs, groaning.

"Ugh, I swear this adventuring lark is tough on the old bones." They complained, impersonating an elder in the warbling tone.

"Your bones are hardly old, mine are far older than yours."

"Your bones are also Elven and Vampiric, and therefore immortal. So yank those reigns, Grandfather." They sassed, pointing and flexing their feet, stretching out their legs. Astarion gave a genuine laugh.

His chest ached. He didn't know why. It was a dull, throbbing ache that seeped warmth into the deep reccesses of his soul.

His brows creased together at the odd sensation and swallowed, embracing it. At least it was different to self-loathing. It was calming but made his body feel like it was struggling for air. He recognised it.. vaguely.. from his early years of enslavement.

Guilt poured over him, dousing the warmth gathered in his chest. Reliving the scant moments of connection and the internal conflict that followed, the fear of disobeying, the desperation of attempted escapes.. the darkness.

"You alright, Star darling? Looking a little peaky, even more peaky than your usual snow white self." They flexed their eyebrows at him with a smirk.

He swallowed, "Oh, yes. I'm fine." His answer was automatic.

Tav's brow twitched, "What is it?" Their tone was soft, light but with a pull of seriousness. Astarion swallowed again, gazing at them, reclined and comfortably naked, in the amber glow of the candlelight.

He couldn't talk about this. Not now. Not yet. He wasn't ready. Not here.. when the world seemed so far away. He had to keep it out. Keep Him out. He wanted to stay in this bubble with them. Inside his tent, in their small patch of nowhere. Not yet. Don't take them away yet.

"Hey, hey.. talk to me. You're worrying me now." They leaned up to grip him arms but stopped short - a gesture toward his dislike of being touched when these memories overcame him.

Gods. Why were they so nice to him?

"Absolutely nothing. But are you alright, my dear?" He asked, trying to deflect, "Are we tired? Does the poor, frail human need their rest?" He taunted with a babied voice, lightly pinching at their soft thighs.

"I will end you if you don't stop jiggling my thighs." They threatened emptily, with a grin and a raised brow.

"Beautiful thighs," he objected, shuffling closer to them and pulling them back into him, "I often get lost in thoughts of losing myself between those thighs." He flashed them a dangerous look, shielding them from the horrors beneath.

He just wanted to return to their previous engaged activity; he wouldn't let his past win.

He wanted to bury himself deep within them and paint their walls. Claim them. He wanted to stay inside them as they lay in the afterglow, warming his cock and keeping his seed pressed within.

But at the same time, he wanted none of that.. because it was all tainted. Even though it was with Tav. It still.. hurt.

He palmed the curve of their hips beneath the splay of his hands, up to their waist and down the cup of their behind. He took the meat of their thigh and brought it to his mouth. He sucked and kissed at their smooth skin.

"And I have also fantasied about you between my legs." They admitted, as nonchalantly as if they were discussing the weather, "whether it's your cock, or your mouth. It doesn't matter which. Although, when it's your mouth, it shuts you up for a while, so that's a massive boon." They smirked, as Astarion caught up with the joke quickly and squeezed at their soft flesh to tickle them.

They writhed and laughed together, as Tav protested between cackles, while he dared them to repeat.

Breathless from enjoyment and glee, they laid back, settled into each others arms. The last titters rumbling, as they coiled limbs around each other.

Several moments of silence passed easily around them. Tav's breathing soothing him once more, bringing him back to the calm, chasing away all thoughts of his tormented past.

"I do adore laying with you like this, when it's just us and.. it's just us." A quiver strained his voice, a strange gripping sensation held his chest and threatened to surge outward but he caught the feeling and held it tightly before it overcame him.

Gods, not this level of Hell again.

"Mm, me too." They whispered, gently stroking his forearm.

A few more wordless moments passed before them, "Star, is it alright if we don't have sex tonight?"

Astarion's head jerked, an oxymoronic wave of relief, surprise and disappointment tumbling over him, "Of course, if that's what you want?" He propped himself up on his elbow.

They nodded, scrunching up their nose, "It is, yeah. I'm quite sore and bruised. Apparently Silvanus' blessing doesn't extend to aching bones and tender vaginas," They shot out a giggle together, "I'm not used to having sex every night. It's a lot for me," They made an uneasy face, "It's why I wasn't letting you in any further than the tip, if I'm being completely honest. Are you disappointed?"

"Well, naturally I am a little.. but.. well.." He looked into their warm eyes, and it's glow radiated into him, "If we're being honest with each other; I'm a little relieved. I wouldn't mind a break."

"Oh, thank god." They breathed with a sigh of relief, smiling widely.

"You don't have to sound so elated." He teased, with faux indignation.

"No, no. It's not that. It's just.. I didn't want to come up short in the bedroom for you. I mean, you're used to a lot of sex and-"

"Darling," He stopped them with a hand, "Consent flows both ways, you know? If you're not feeling it, tell me for God's sake!"

Tav's unease dissolved in front of this eyes, "Thank you, love."

Tender fingers reached for his chin and he willingly followed them down for another sweet kiss.

"Also, you're not going to believe this but I was maybe doing the same with you. I didn't want to let down the fantasy of being with a Rakeish Vampire."

"So, we've both been competing with our own ego's and projected expectations, even though the other was feeling similarly?" Said Tav plainly, pointing out the irony.

Astarion nodded and Tav laughed without humour.

"Well, I suppose that's why they say communicating is key to a good relationship." They shrugged, giggling gently.

A relationship.

Is that what this was?

He'd not been in a "relationship" since well before his turning.

Was that what the warmth inside him had been trying to tell him? Had his cold, dead heart been beating during this time they'd spent together and he hadn't thought to notice it?

Had he developed.. feelings right under his own nose?

Gods below.

"What? You've gone all quiet and pensive again." They rubbed his shoulder to pull him from his stupor.

"I have?" He blinked.

"Yes, you do it a lot," They twirled a curl between their fingers and shaped it around his ear.

Suddenly his vision started to blur, and instead his mind was filled with their first time at the Tiefling party. They'd done exactly the same. He was still inside them, and therefore still dissociated from the event. They'd pulled him back by fixing a stray curl. He'd smiled in genuine affection at the motion.

And in the Crèche. They'd just finished the gruelling fight against the Inquisitor, the others had been looking for an escape away from the main entrance, where the Githyanki hoard waited. Tav had walked over to him to check on his wellbeing, and absent-mindedly stroked a blood-soaked curl out of his face.

And the Underdark. In the Sussur Grove. They'd told him how beautiful he looked bathed in the light of the magnificent arcane tree. That was the first time he'd kissed them. Truly kissed them. Without a plan, or manipulative word. He'd just wanted to kiss them. They'd threaded his hair around their fingers at the nape of his neck into a tight curl that he'd tried to keep pristine.

The gesture was so gentle, so miniscule, so innocuous, yet so monumentous to him; a simple thing that brought up not nightmares from his past, but treasured memories from their time together. Moments not drenched in hate and fear, but in adoration and affection.

"What is it you're thinking about with that particular facial expression, I wonder." They traced a faint scar on his shoulder, smiling up at him.

Gods, he wanted to say it. Could he say it? Was he even capable of it..

Eventually, he said, "I am used to a lot of sex but it's sex that I didn't want."

Tav paused, their eyes searched his face, and raised a hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into it like a cat rubbing against it's favourite human.

"I didn't have anything, not even my own body. I did as I was told for so long, I'd quite forgotten what it was like to want."

Astarion scrunched up his face, emotion from uncharted territory replacing the repugnant bile that once fought it's way out. He placed his hand on top of theirs and brought their palm to his mouth, pressing a firm, almost desperate kiss.

"This," he started, staring down at the person he'd willingly die for, "this is what I want."

Tav's eyes began to fill, as they pursed their lips over their smile to conceal it and failed miserably. They brought their other hand to his cheek and brushed away a tear he hadn't realised had fallen, thumbing another away with the other.

"I know. Me too."

They gently pulled him down to lay with them, wrapping arms and legs together, melted into each other.

They fit perfectly together; a practised position of theirs.

His favourite position of theirs.

Tav gently kissed his forehead and held him closer, twirling their favourite curl behind his ear. They soaked into each other, perfectly in-sync. Bodies and minds intertwined and existing in pure harmony and peace.

His haven. His safe place.

Shit.

•°•°•

Room for more? There's always time for more smut and sweetness 😜

[tetzoro]

HAPPY FRIDAY — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : the office is slow today and your beloved coworker turned boyfriend has a great idea on how to pass time.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, fingering, oral (f!receiving), semi-public (in your office), kuroo being a little shit — WC : 1.2k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : this is all @oooohno’s fault <33 thank you for the brainrot lovely teehee this is barely edited so enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

“cmon sweetheart, there’s barely anyone here today.” kuroo purrs in your ear, slowly lowering to the floor so he could crawl under your desk. you shut your legs together, squeezing them tightly as his palms run down your thighs, fingers brushing along the hem of your skirt. “you’ve been doing so well lately, let me show you how proud i am.”

“tetsu-“ you hiss down at him. it was almost comical seeing this tall man squished under your desk, but the implications of it all made your face heat up. “what if someone walks in?”

“like who?” his hands keep running along your legs in a soothing motion, slowly but surely slipping more and more under your skirt, thumbing at the lace that covers your cunt. “just relax.”

the eager look in his eyes has you acting against your better judgement, sighing in defeat as you save the excel document you were working on.

your back fully sinks into the chair as kuroo yanks your hips further along the seat so he’s in a prime position to wrap his sinful lips around your clit.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he pulls the lace to the side and slips a finger in, looking up at you intently with cat like eyes, sporting a lazy grin that has you wanting to harshly tug on his unruly hair. but he renders you defenseless as he agonizingly pumps his slender finger in and out of your already dripping cunt, letting it get thoroughly coated with your slick before slipping in another.

you choke back a whimper, trying to remain unphased as he tries his best to unravel you. but he had a gift, always managing to stimulate the deepest parts of you.

“comfortable?” you teeth gritted out of spite, trying not to fully give in.

“very.” he drawls the word out, pressing a featherly kiss just above your clit. your hips betray you as they buck up, chasing the fleeting warmth of his lips. kuroo lets out a chuckle and your resolve grows thin.

“you’re such a little —“ your sentence was cut off with a whine, kuroo’s tongue pressed against your clit before sucking on it, stealing the words right out of your mouth.

the low rumble he gives out as he laughs sends a vibration through your core and your traitorous fingers weave through his hair, pulling him closer.

his fingers slip out as his salacious tongue takes its place, shoving the warm muscle as deeply as it can go as his hands tightly grip your thighs.

how could you focus on work when there was a man starved between your legs? kuroo must’ve forgotten where he was as he got lost in you, groaning softly into your cunt as his tongue becomes drenched in your essence.

“tets-“ you gasp softly, pulling on his hair with all your might, trying to keep your moans at bay. “you gotta slow down, baby—“

there was a muffled ‘no’ as he didn’t even bother lifting his head. his vindictive eyes flit up to you, the usual gooey amber color was eclipsed with darkness, a lust that overtook his soul and wouldn’t be quenched until he had his fill.

all you could do was surrender under his ministrations, letting his tongue expertly spell out all your worries along your clit before kissing them away.

the more he continued, the more the burdens on your shoulders slipped away — pleasure carrying you far, far away from your workplace and into the heavens that is kuroo tetsuro’s touch.

“‘m gonna,” you whimper before reality crashes down upon you with an invasive knock on your office door. you all but jolt out of your skin. quickly, you yank kuroo off of where he was latched to you in an attempt to collect yourself. after giving him a warning glare, you straighten yourself up. “come in.”

kuroo tried not to snicker, watching from below as you scoot your chair in so your bare cunt wasn’t exposed and notably drenched in his saliva. his cock throbbed at his subtle claim.

“good evening, i have those reports for you.” your assistant cheerfully says as he walks in. you offer a weak smile before your gaze goes back down to kuroo, one hand still tangled in his hair to keep him from doing what you know he wants to do. “you feeling alright?”

“i’m,” you clear your throat as your voice wobbled. “i’m fine.”

“great, well that’s all from me today.” he smiles, putting the file on your desk. kuroo’s skin crawls as your attention wasn’t on him anymore, stuck on your overbearing assistant who was always chasing you like shadow.

even though kuroo boasts on how he isn’t a jealous man, he knows deep down that may not be true. especially as his fingers trail back to you, pawing for the lustful gaze you were giving him only moments ago — before you were rudely interrupted.

“thank you — aah!” you squeak out as kuroo slides two fingers back into you. your assistant looks at you in alarm.

“are you sure you’re okay?” the concern in his voice only pisses kuroo off and spurs him on to add another finger, blatantly ignoring the warning tugs you were giving him.

“mhm.” you breathe out. “just a really, really annoying migraine. i’ll be fine. you should get home and have a good — aah ! — good weekend.”

kuroo was deliberate with his strokes, making sure not to go too quickly so your assistant could hear anything but agonizingly slow enough that had you seconds away from riding his hand — assistant be damned.

“thank you, you too.” he nods, turning around and exiting the room. thankfully, he closed the door behind him.

“kuroo.” you snap down at him. he winces and offers an apologetic grin, increasing the speed at which he’s pumping his fingers at.

“don’t call me that.” he pouts, pressing kisses along your inner thigh, nipping at the skin slightly. “c’mon, i just want you to cum for me.”

“you’re so annoying.” you slouch back in your chair, letting him have more access to where you were dripping for him. he easily catches your clit in his mouth, swirling around the bud as his fingers don’t stop. “but fuck, it feels so good.”

kuroo hums against you which only pushes you closer to the edge, your hips chasing his fingers in an attempt to match his pace — all but humping his face.

with a moan muffled by your bitten lips, you feel your body lock up in its spot, thighs trembling in kuroos hold as you reach your high. stars erupt behind your eyes as you squeeze them shut but a warning pinch on your thigh has them sliding back open — only to be met with kuroo’s smug gaze.

slowly, he retreats his fingers, making a show of cleaning them off with his tongue. your lace underwear was slid back into place, quickly getting soaked from all the excitement.

“happy friday.” kuroo smirked, palms sliding up your body to give your clothed breasts a cheeky squeeze before standing up. you’re pretty sure this man will be the death of you one day.

quickly, you grab a hold of his tie and yank him back down to your level where you were still seated. the sudden movement had his eyes widening, smirk wiped clean off his face. good.

you pull him in for a kiss, enjoying the soft moans he lets slip as your tongue trails along his bottom lip. just as it was getting to the good part, you pull back with a smirk of your own, thoroughly enjoying the slightly dazed look in his eyes.

“happy friday, tetsu.”

[babyhd]

Good morning uolls..😘

• Baby nk lanje tet*k, tpi cannot share video yg clear disini.☹️

So baby try add filter and cut video to short je💋

+Like and REblog klau nmpak post ni🫦.hihii thank you sayang² semua💋🥺

[andythelemon]

✨ PRE-ORDERS NOW OPEN ✨

FIGHT LIKE A GIRL! A Girls & Swords Artbook

40pg | A5 | saddle stitch

An original collection of illustrations by 28 East Asian & SEA artists, featuring women & weapons.

Artists: Andy - Lisa Kogawa - Jade - Vi - Jacqueline Li - Tet - Karyn Lee - Bokchois - Jununy - Kristina Luu - Amy Matsushita-Beal - Dee Nguyen - Aster - Lessonata - Pemprika - Mlkinis - Michelle T. - Lauren - Ibon - R.Y.P. - Mai - Mon Nguyen-Vo - Tomoko Morohoshi - Vivian - Meruz - Ellen Mei - Ryn - Hana Chatani

Merch: Pearl Law - Maya - Jenny - Alice

Tier 1: Digital PDF Tier 2: Book only Tier 3: Book + 4 A6 postcards + 2 bookmarks + sticker set

Pre-orders close June 7th. Please contact the store if you have any questions not answered by the listings/FAQ. Thank you for the support! ⚔️

[prettyiwa]

🍉 Fics for Gaza — Sponsor a WIP 🍉

Hello, everybody! I'm honestly not sure how this will go, if at all, but I want to participate in the fundraising efforts of @ficsforgaza. Lately, I've been focused solely on projects that bring me joy regardless of readership and so for this, I'll be opening up all of my WIPs, including those not listed on my official WIP page but previously mentioned on this blog. For this fundraiser, I'm committing to returning to those old projects that have been unceremoniously left in the dust.

I'm committing to this undertaking with the hopes that one of my projects will encourage donations if they weren't previously inclined or were on the fence.

Raised: $91.39 Written/Sponsored: 3.443/18,278

How it works:

$1 = 200 words!

Make a donation to a vetted fundraiser of your choice (links below) and send me a screenshot of your donation excluding identifying information + the WIP you'd like me to work on. For every $1 donated, I will write 200 words for your chosen WIP. Upon receiving proof of donation, I will begin working on the WIP.

Example message template:

Hey, Ix! I've donated [this amount] to [link to vetted fundraiser]. Would you be able to work on [WIP title]? Thank you! (Included screenshot of proof of donation)

Vetted fundraiser links:

Vetted fundraiser masterpost-masterpost

List of Palestinian Evacuation & Support Fundraisers

Masterlist of links, official & vetted

how you can help palestine

Eligible WIPs:

Because the list of WIPs included is so long, they'll be listed below the cut. Fandoms included: Daiya no Ace, Haikyuu!!, Attack on Titan, Fullmetal Alchemist, & My Hero Academia.

Daiya no Ace

The Catcher's Accomplice - Miyuki Kazuya Major Leagues, Interpreter, Forced Proximity (Belated Quarantine Fic), Falling in Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Fluff

When Kazuya insisted he be posted for the MLB, he wasn't quite aware of all that entailed, only concerned with being able to continue playing. He didn't fully anticipate the sheer loneliness of moving to a different country, especially just before a pandemic. How lucky for him that you're there every step of the way.

word count: 4,591/20,000+

Promises We Made - Miyuki Kazuya Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmates (if you squint), Expression of Grief, Anxiety, & Depression

He existed as a beacon for you—someone who had been there since before you can remember, someone who always found you when you got lost. All you wanted was to be able to stand on your own two feet beside him.

word count: 14,119/50,000+

His Name - Miyuki Kazuya Non-Linear Storytelling, Falling in Love, Break-up Fic, Angst, Hints of Pining & Regret

Kazuya never realized how much he loved the way his name sounded as it rolled of your tongue, a promise he didn't hear until it was too late.

word count: 1,593/6,000

not a stranger - Sawamura Eijun Younger Brother's Best Friend, Childhood Crush, Childhood Friends to Lovers

Fifteen years after he used to announce to the world, "I'm going to marry you one day!," he no longer looks like the Ei-chan you once knew.

word count: 3,548/12,000 FULLY SPONSORED!! written: 261/10,000

Play with Me - Kuramochi Youichi NPB, Bassist, One Night Stand to Lovers, Falling in Love, Shared History, Fluff, Suggestive

The story of you and Kuramochi Youichi goes further than the night he finds himself in the audience of your show, but it takes you a while before you acknowledge that.

word count: 339/7,500

Chink in My Armor - Kominato Ryousuke University!AU, FWB, Jealousy, Stubborn Ryou, Getting Together, Suggestive

For someone who "didn't have the time to focus on a relationship," Ryou spends an awful lot of time focusing on you.

word count: 273/5,500

Wanna Run with You - Yuuki Tetsuya University!AU, Friends to Lovers, Old Crush, Reunion, Falling in Love, Fluff

A favor for your new editor puts you in contact with your old friend and crush, someone you fervently wanted to avoid. Now that Tetsu has you in his life again, he isn't so ready to let you go this time.

word count: 6,513/9,500

Haikyuu!!

Mine to Keep - Iwaizumi Hajime Yakuza, Fight Club, Violence, Light Stalking & Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Smut

Iwaizumi's taken his time with you, preferring you willing and wanting, but there's only so much waiting he can do before he snaps.

*requires editing so the word count may vary.

word count: 11,717/15,000* sponsored word count: 1,000 written: 1,000/1,000

Always You - Iwaizumi Hajime Fallen Angel, Demon, Memory Loss, Reincarnation, Angst, Love Perseveres

You two were favored angels, models for how others should perform until you made the grave sin of loving more than your Creator. For your crime, you were doomed to loving one another time and again through never ending reincarnation, forever watching the other suffer and die.

word count: 2,378/6,000 sponsored word count: 1,278 written: 1,278/1,278

Coming Home - Iwaizumi Hajime Punisher!AU, Grief, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to ??? to Lovers

After your mother died, you never expected to find comfort in the return of the friend you long since thought dead.

word count: 1,524/6,500

Late Nights - Iwaizumi Hajime University!AU, Pining, Getting Together

In the cover of night near the university baseball diamonds, Iwaizumi finds the courage to talk to you.

word count: 328/3,000 **FULLY SPONSORED! written: 904/3,000

Maker of Myths - Oikawa Tooru Trojan War!AU, Paris & Helen, Falling in Love, War, Infidelity, Grief, Angst

The first choice you ever made was which suitor would be your husband, the King. The second choice you made allowed for you to choose your lover, your partner. The third choice you made started a war.

word count: 4,860/13,000+

This Tree, This Bed - Kuroo Tetsurou Odyssey!AU, Odysseus & Penelope, Falling in Love, Separation, Reunion, Hurt/Comfort

Kuroo liked to fashion himself as one of the smartest men in the known world. While his cunning managed to win your hand and your heart, it was unable to save him from going into a war unrelated to him.

word count: 3,215/7,500

Anxious, Wide Awake - Kuroo Tetsurou Magic & Monsters!AU, Vampire, Sorceress, Witcher inspired, Violence, Blood, Established Relationship

The more they touch you, the more their stench sticks to you, the more violent their deaths will be when he comes for you. Because he is coming for you. You have more faith in that fact than you do that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. His promise can still be heard nearly a century later, still humming along the skin where he first whispered it. He’s coming.

word count: 4,353/10,000

Please Look at Me - Hanamaki Takahiro & Matsukawa Issei Love Triangle, Not Polyamorous, Smut, Getting Together, Angst

“Is it okay if I have a taste?” Don’t you kids do anything I wouldn’t do. Takahiro’s seen Mattsun do a lot. He’s seen Mattsun in so many compromising situations throughout the years, he’s given up on keeping count long ago. And this? This is definitely something Mattsun would do.

word count: 867/6,000

Rosebuds & Black Currant - Futakuchi Kenji Strangers to (eventual) Lovers, Falling in Love, Getting Together, Fluff

It takes you entirely too long to understand the messages Kenji's been trying to send through the arrangements he gives you if only because you don't believe he's familiar with the language of flowers.

word count: 188/3,500

Attack on Titan

Rapture for the Sinners - Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman Canon Divergent, Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Grief, PTSD, Smut

Fiercely loyal to Erwin Smith, you find yourself to be one of his most trusted soldiers, ready to do what is necessary for either of you to get what you want. With no room for romantic relationships, you two easily find yourselves engaged in a sexual relationship. Why do you suddenly find your situation muddled when you're tasked with bringing three thugs from the Underground to the Survey Corps? What happens when you suddenly find yourself developing feelings for the one you were prepared to kill and who was prepared to kill you in turn?

word count: 103,168/170,000+ sponsored word count: 2,000 written: 0/2,000

For You, in the Future - Bertholdt Hoover, Levi Ackerman VOV Rewrite, Canon Divergent, Tech Advancements, Friends to Lovers, Lovers to Enemies, Political Intrigue, Grief, PTSD, Love Perseveres

An attempt at a rewrite of my first story. I've worked on it in secret over the winter and could be swayed to starting it once more.

word count: 7,601/150,000+

Fullmetal Alchemist

From the Ashes Flowers Bloom - Roy Mustang Canon Divergent, Violence, Religious Guilt, Subterfuge, Exes to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort

You've spent the last four years avoiding staying in one place for too long due to the belief in the superstitions of your mother's religion. After the murder of your adoptive brother, you begin to learn the truth of the larger conspiracy that's left a pile of bodies wherever you go. Deciding to confront the root of the problem head-on, you find yourself reforging old relationships, for better or for worse.

word count: 43,580/80,000+

My Hero Academia

Set You Free - Aizawa Shouta Pre-UA Teacher!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Grief, Getting Together

An unfortunate quirk, bad timing, and grief-induced anger tied you to Aizawa years after the death of Shirakumo. He wanted to be a hero, and it takes him a bit too long to realize he may have ruined yours.

word count: 2,256/6,500

Hit Me Before I Knew It - Bakugo Katsuki Pro!AU, Fake Dating, Pining, Getting Together, Parental Grief

“I’m sorry—can you repeat that?” “I’m not saying it again.” “No, please. I didn’t quite hear you the first time,” you push, trying to repress the uptick of your lips at Bakugo’s unexpected question. He looks at you and you can tell he knows it’s not quite the truth, but he obliges you. The peculiarity of it all has you struggling to process it just as much as he’s struggling to say it. With a heavy sigh, he tries again, voice lower than before. “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just a date or two to get my buddy off my back.”

word count: 531/6,500

[ethanlikeslemonade]

vi and jinx are just black brother variants thank you for coming to my tet talk

[darsynia]

Eeeee thank you!! Especially this: Gurl, lemme just first tell ya that no matter how much of this you 'spoil' me for before reading the full thing, I get floored every single time.

Mostly because I'm always afraid I'll ruin something's impact but I'm so excited to share as I'm writing it!! Speaking of which, remind me to ask you about the viability of something in the upcoming car scene :D

You make me feel:

Thanks dearest!!

Shipping and Handling | Ch 2: Urgency

(Stucky x Reader slow burn, Steve x Reader fast burn, Friendship all around)

Summary: There’s a chance you and Steve aren’t the only people dealing with the strange chemical bond from Mistress, so you agree to submit to daily tests that should help Dr. Banner figure out what’s happening, and maybe how to stop it. The problem? Seeing each other every day brings a new set of side-effects that both of you hide from each other and Banner until things come to a head– not just for the two of you, but also for the man who has to deal with you: Bucky Barnes. Length/Warnings: 3,028 / sexual situations Prompt: @allcapsbingo April Adoptable: Sex Pollen ((I know, right??))

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan @brooke0297 @caplanreblogsfics @hails270105 @venusfalling @zzz000eee @eralen @mrsevans90 @myinconnelly1 @thorinsmistress @cjand10

Excerpt:

Steve’s expression turns sheepish. “I was trying to persuade him to walk you out.” 

“Let me guess, he was doing the same?”

He nods. The elevator protests the doors remaining open, and he murmurs some kind of command that changes the red color to green.

“You could escort me down?”

“That’s probably a bad idea,” Steve says solicitously. There’s a light in his eyes that sends a thrill along your spine, and you almost wish you could push him to change his mind-- but then you remember how important it is to figure out what the hell Mistress is doing to the many people exposed to it every day. Encouraging Steve Rogers to take an elevator ride so you can stand near him and wish he would kiss you is probably not furthering the cause of science.

Chapter Two: Urgency

In retrospect, inviting you over for dinner has clearly made things more complicated, not less. Bucky had figured you’d show up, they’d order food, and then the three of you would have an uncomfortable but necessary conversation (one he’d get to enjoy observing, which would make up for the awkwardness).

Instead, he’s barely holding in his amusement at the way things have devolved into an R-rated I Love Lucy episode.

In a strained voice, you observe, “The connections are hopelessly stretched. You’ll probably need a whole new stove.”

Bucky just nods.

“It’s actually kind of impressive, the way the metal crocheted with the cotton in this tea towel withstood the stress like that.”

He clears his throat to cover his need to laugh, but the sound ends on a wheeze.

“Damnit, what?”

“You practically knelt down in front of him. Take pity, will you Doll?” 

Bucky only realizes the endearment after he’s said it aloud, and to minimize the damage, he clenches his jaw and twists his lips into an inconsequential smile.

It doesn’t work.

“You’ve never called me that before,” you say, your lovely eyes lit with surprise and something else, something he shouldn’t be looking for. 

Gruffly, he says, “Really?” It’s a shut-down tactic, because people are much less likely to elaborate on something they’re uncertain over. He maximizes its effect by leaning down to examine the oven door, which is indeed fucked.  

“Really. I liked it, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft. “Looks like you’ll be needing these menus, I doubt the stove is kitchen rated with the door off! Come on, I���m sure Steve is going to be hungry when he shows back up.”

Are… you joking about what Steve’s doing in his room right now? Bucky lunges over to block your way out of the kitchen. The shirt you’re wearing smells like the detergent he and Steve use, and something about smelling Steve on you sends heat straight to his groin.

He really should’ve punched Banner, too.

“What?”  

“Are you sure you want everything out in the open?” You look at him, uncomprehending, and Bucky’s a hypocrite, because there’s no way any of what he’s been thinking about lately can be in the open.

You’re shaking your head at him. “I don’t--”

He grips the doorframe so tightly it gives a little under his metal hand. “Steve is jerking off in there. He’d only do that while we’re waiting out here because he has to. If he comes out here and you make a comment like that, he’ll feel guilty for--”

“--weeks. Maybe forever. Shit.” you interrupt. He pushes off from the door to let you pass, and you continue; “Banner seemed certain that the… intensity was because we’d spent those two weeks apart, but this is--” You break off and drop the pile of menus on the dining room table with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m really worried it’s going to be untenable, but then I remember all the people out there this could happen to, you know?”

Bucky nods toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, where Steve is probably touching himself right now. “Is that the ‘untenable’ you’re talking about?”

Your face wrenches in embarrassment, eyes closed, and you nod.

Because he doesn’t want to go through this whole ordeal without some amusement at his own expense, he says, “There are two bedrooms, if you need to borrow mine? You know where it is.”

Your eyes pop open, and you suck in a breath, tightening the blue shirt enough that he can see your nipples are hard. Then you smack him hard on the right arm.

“The look on your face! Stop fake-leering at me, asshole, I was already worried about that!”

That was close. “Worried about what?”

“Well I got to thinking, it’s not like the combined pheromones are inert, right? So anyone who spends time around the two of us could get hit with them. Hell, maybe even the solo ones we were making might be able to--” You retreat to the other side of the table like you need the fortitude of distance. “You’ve still been able to achieve-- I mean… Have you?”

“Roll that back. You think that stuff could turn me as horny as the two of you?”

You wince. “Promise me you’ll tell me if anything changes? For science?”

“I promise,” Bucky says. He is affected, but nothing whatsoever has changed.

“And you can still…”

He raises his eyebrows and pretends not to understand.

“Bucky!” Your exasperation is not a deterrent at all.

“Just spit it out.”

“Can you come?”

He cannot resist. “Come where?”

“Oh my God, I cannot believe you!” Instead of stomping off to cool down, you march right up to him and grab the loose sides of the dress shirt he’s wearing on top of his tee. “I am asking you if you can orgasm, you monumental dickhead!”

Maybe the pheromones you and Steve are emitting are doing something, because a number of inappropriate things leap immediately to mind.

He chooses the least offensive of the five. “Pretty sure I can, but I’m willing to go try right now, if it’s that important to you.”

Steve speaks up from the hallway before you can vocalize the affectionate fury Bucky sees written all over your face. “Everything okay?” 

Steve’s hairline is wet, like he’d stepped into the bathroom to splash his face with water, and his own shirt is untucked. By now, Bucky’s used to steeling himself against his attraction to Steve, but he’s not used to being so close to someone who can figure out what he’s thinking before he shoves it away. Your hands tighten on his shirt, and when he looks back at you, there’s understanding in your eyes.

Understanding and guilt.

Carefully, you reach up to adjust Bucky’s collar as if that’s what you’d been doing all along, patting at his chest maternally before stepping away. “Starting to think you had Steve help you dress before you’d show up at the restaurant for those 40’s nights,” you tease.

Shit. Shit. Are you trying to-- Shit.

Across the room, Steve’s body language is stiff, and he adopts a false joviality that has Bucky screaming in his own head at the multitude of misunderstandings.

“Are you kidding? He snuck out! Probably didn’t want me to ask why he was wearing all that leather on a weeknight.” A second later, Steve waves his hand in embarrassment and comes over to the table. “That came out like I was implying he dresses in leather on the weeken--”

“Stop!” Bucky groans. “I’m starving and the two of you are nuts. Pick something and order, would you?” He walks off toward the window and hopes that you and Steve will mix pheromones so much you’ll completely forget what you think you just saw.

The need to stare at each other (and feed him) seems to be enough to preoccupy the two of you. Bucky looks out at the bustle of rush-hour traffic and tries to tamp down his panic. Of all the struggles he’d faced in the past year, he’d never have picked ‘caring too much about his closest friends’ as the one to give him the most trouble. It’s an unfair thought on its face, because the burden of all his other shit has been lifted by having you and Steve around.

It’s not just caring, though, and as much as he wants to lie to himself, it’s not just physical, either. If there was any way to reassure you about the pheromones, he would, but if Bucky’s honest with himself, he’s glad you’re worried about that. It gives him cover.

He sighs. A thought that had occurred to him a few nights ago pops back up. To have friends is one thing, to want someone is another thing, but to know better than to act on it? To step aside for the sake of the people he cares most about in the world… that’s a sign that he’s more human than weapon. It’s cold comfort, but he’s used to the cold.

The knowledge of what Steve had been doing and why is burning through your insides. It looks like it’s burning through him too, but from embarrassment, since he’s just worked through his other discomfort.

Steve clears his throat and reaches over to scatter some of the menus. “Any preferences?”

“Let me see what we’ve got,” you say, and he nods, loosing a lock of wet hair that flops onto his forehead.

It suddenly occurs to you the reason why it’s wet-- he went to wash his hands, and just in case that wasn’t enough, he washed his face, too. Because he’s a gentleman, despite what it was he was doing. You feel such a rush of pure affection for him that it shakes your ability to stand. To cover it, you drag out the chair you’re standing near and fall into it, reaching for the brochures.

“Do you, ah…” 

He falls silent, and when you look up, he looks supremely uncomfortable. You lift your brows.

“Do you need to…”

You are completely baffled-- until you aren’t. “Oh, God, thank you, but no. I’ll--  I’ll manage.”

His nod is anxious, so you hand over the menu you had your eye on and do your very best not to worry that you should have taken him up on it. After all, you weren’t able to change your underpants, but if there’s a world where you have to ask Captain America if he can smell your arousal, you’d rather just disappear into the NYC sewers.

Dinner goes surprisingly well. You already knew that Bucky and Steve got on well, and over the course of the evening, you can tell that your rapport with Bucky is reassuring to Steve. Instead of making you uncomfortable, the simmering heat you’re afflicted with seems to keep you on your toes, a constant reminder to be careful about what you say and do, lest you awaken the same banked fire in Steve. 

You let the two men run the conversation, and at times they almost fall over each other to share anecdotes. When you’re ready to leave, you step away to use the bathroom and come out to Bucky and Steve deep in a serious discussion, almost an argument. Maybe it’s your full, happy stomach, maybe it’s your sense of impishness, but instead of alerting them to your presence in the room, you sneak over to the door and make it to the elevator before Steve catches up to you.

“Making me feel like a failed host,” he says, jogging over to hold his hand over the just-opened doors.

“Not at all,” you smile. “You two looked like you were having an important conversation.”

Steve’s expression turns sheepish. “I was trying to persuade him to walk you out.” 

“Let me guess, he was doing the same?”

He nods. The elevator protests the doors remaining open, and Steve murmurs some kind of command that changes the red color to green.

“You could escort me down?”

“That’s probably a bad idea,” Steve says solicitously. There’s a light in his eyes that sends a thrill along your spine, and you almost wish you could push him to change his mind-- but then you remember how important it is to figure out what the hell Mistress is doing to the many people exposed to it every day. Encouraging Steve Rogers to take an elevator ride so you can stand near him and wish he would kiss you is probably not furthering the cause of science.

“Good night then, Sir Knight,” you tease, dipping into a curtsey. Your skirt is tight along your thighs, but you’re able to use the tails of your borrowed blue shirt to aid in the look.

When you lift your head, the elevator doors are closing, and Steve is nowhere in sight. It’s not a big deal-- you’ll be seeing each other once a day for the foreseeable future anyway.

Not that you’re looking forward to that, or anything.

Steve and Bucky had agreed to show up at the performance the next day, to satisfy the proximity requirement. As expected, the 90’s crowd is different from the 40’s one, but the energy is high, and you end the night on a literal high note. The plan is for the two of them to come over after the set to spend a few minutes physically close by, but as usual, the band is crowded by admirers who ‘just want to chat a few minutes.’

You can see that Bucky’s temper is flaring by the way Steve’s fingertips whiten on his friend’s shoulder, so you try to hurry. The last person to push through to speak to you is carrying two of the restaurant’s signature ‘flagon’ beer glasses, and he enthusiastically thrusts one into your hands before you can stop him. The action sloshes the liquid over onto the back of your hand.

Before you can formulate a polite refusal, the restaurant’s bar bouncer Benji throws a collegial arm around the man’s shoulder and guides him away.

“Saved a life, right there,” Steve says in a low voice beside you. You actually slump over into him for a few seconds in relief, feeling him initially stiffen at first contact before his arm comes around to support you.

“What do you mean?” you ask, lifting your hand up to lick off the alcohol. 

To your surprise, Steve spins you the few steps out into the dance floor. The ballad currently playing means that the couples around you are slow-dancing in the ‘modern’ style, hands on hips or shoulders, swaying close with little to no artistry. His hand at your wrist is an inexorable band as he positions your palm flat on his chest, his other hand grasping the small of your back in defiance of convention.

“Okay, clearly you have panicked,” you say, blinking up at him. Your other hand is holding onto the lapel of his suit jacket as if for dear life, because holy god, the man sends your senses reeling.

“Inside pocket, Mistress test tabs. Swab your hand,” he whispers hoarsely.

Your steps falter, and you nod. Testing has become second-nature at this point, so you don’t even need to check the box for the color key. 

“Orange,” Steve says, when he sees the strip. His hand at your back sweeps you closer. Orange is more than the yellow or green of faint traces. 

The drink was dosed.

“On it,” Bucky husks as he brushes past the two of you, plucking the test strip from your fingers on the way. Because of Steve’s close stance, you’re helpless to stop him-- a point Steve makes very clear by spreading his fingers at your back. The possessiveness of the action works like napalm in your bloodstream, but the pressure of each fingertip against your skin sends a very clear message: you may not follow.

There’s napalm, and then there’s napalm.

Fixing your eyes on his chest, and with a bright smile hiding that your teeth are clenched, you hiss, “Steve, if we weren’t in my workplace, I would be pitching a fit right now. You are not in charge of what I do or say, do you understand me?”

The pained sound from his throat drags your eyes up to his. Steve looks stricken, and you realize you’d offered the man who tried to deliberately drug you with Mistress more grace than the one who dearly wishes he hadn’t. Your apology dusts in your mouth when he starts speaking.

“I couldn’t protect you when it counted. I can’t protect you from me. I will damn well protect you from everything else!”

As he speaks, Steve moves the two of you off of the dance floor and back past the bar into the alcove Benji usually stands in. He’s shaking, and you’re overwhelmed, the fear of what you’ve just dodged only prickling the edges of your consciousness. The only thing you can think of to defuse the moment is Bucky’s gripe about Steve’s reticence for swearing aloud.

At the very last second, you realize you can’t use the phrasing you’d meant to, because this man’s mother has been dead a very very long time.

“You kiss your lovers with that mouth?”

Time stands still for a long second as you regard each other. Then, Steve’s head tips to the side, eyes locking onto your mouth. His lips part, and the sigh he releases seems to release the angry tension he’d been holding since pulling you close in the first place.

“You tell me,” he whispers, releasing you and holding his hands up like a man being held hostage. In a way he is. You both are.

You can’t recall wanting to kiss someone more than you do right now. To hell with absolutely everything else! you think to yourself, reaching your hand up toward the side of his face.

The wetness on that hand reminds you, and you draw back. “Shit. Shit, Steve! Mistress!”

He looks at your lips again, then your hand, then your chest, and then dashes off into the crowd of people only to reappear again impossibly quickly with a damp washcloth from the bar. Without asking, he scrubs at your hand-- but you bite your lip at the sensations. Even that small amount of the drug is affecting you, having soaked in while you were distracted by the undercurrent of desire you always feel around Steve.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your voice low. 

He makes a little noise in response, then puts a hand on each of your shoulders. “We need to get to Banner. If what I’m feeling is related to the Mistress in your system--”

“Oh God,” you whisper.

Steve’s grip on you tightens, and he snaps his head back like he’d been about to lean in for a kiss before his instincts kicked in.

Your instincts are affected by Mistress, but you don’t give a shit. You reach up with both hands and cup his face. “In the cab.”

“Stark sent a car, actually. I sent a distress call.”

“Even better.”

To be continued...

[sleepytwilight]

Hey! I hope you're having a wonderful day today, I've seen that your requests are open and I am somewhat interested in giving my own prompt for the silly little sorcerer men

How would the ARTW guide sorcerers react to an MC being a high ranking assassin in Mid-Eartheim? Like for some reason they manage to find out about it or we trusted them with our little secret!

Alrightyy

𝔸𝕣𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕦𝕤

He found out.

Okay but Arcturus keep it as a secret

Kinda almost try to blackmailing you when you didn't do your homework 💀.

Arcturus don't mind you're an assassin, as long you don't hurt a student in academy nor miss your class.

Okay he gets very worried sometime if you decide to be an assassin again in Neb Aula.

𝕊𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕒

When he noticed you and Arcturus act suspiciously, he totally did not choke Arcturus to tell him the truth.

When he found out through Arcturus, he locked you up in your dorm.

It took Alpheratz to convince him to let you out.

Spica of course don't hate you, just being careful.

Of course after you get out from your dorm, Spica lectured you about the rules and punishments of Neb Aula.

ℙ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕩

It took him the whole stages to realize you were an assassin.

When you found out about his secret, you was like why not just tell yours?

His jaw dropped faster than you dropped your life purpose.

He forgot he was fighting his twin brother unconscious body and immediately question everything.

Now he understands why you have good reflexes

𝔸𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕫

Arcturus accidently told him about it.

He couldn't careless if you were an assassin as long you let him take a nap.

Alpheratz appreciates when you stop the dorm war, thanks to your assassin skills. Of course you didn't kill anyone, just threatened them.

When he found out Spica locked up, he became rebellious and mess up with Spica. That's how you got out-

Since then he have been by your side.

𝕊𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕦𝕤

He found out before Arcturus but keep it as a secret to see how it goes.

Mf keep on laughing everytime Spica try to keep you lock up while Alpheratz stealing you away.

He had fun thanks to you-

He seriously want to tell Pollux but wait until the end.

When Pollux found out, he laughed like a madman.

𝕍𝕖𝕘𝕒

He found out through Spica.

Boy was questioning what the hell happened after you and him got separated.

He still defend your actions and said you could be redeem.

Since this is Neb Aula, he couldn't careless about your mid eartheim crimes.

Yeah he also spars with you time to time since he is curious about your full skill since you're a high ranking assassin. Other sorcerers doesn't get the assassin classes.

Bonus!

𝕊𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕𝕒𝕣

He finds it very intriguing.

He never expected Polaris to be reincarnation as a assassin-

He didn't know Spica locked you up because he's busy chatting with Thuban.

𝔾𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒

You left the woman speechless.

Like Vega, she'll defend your crimes since she soon to be your mother in law lol

ℝ𝕚𝕘𝕖𝕝 - for @tophatmaker

Great you're now his new headache.

At least you didn't hurt any Queen Tet, so he's fine if you decide to kill a fili pfeper or tharaval.

He likes to see you hurt a karmago.

[jennyfromthebes]

[image description: Jon Wurster's setlist for 10-13-24 Cincinnati OH. It reads:

*Elijah, Idylls, Romans ("Saved one day"), *Young Thous, Doc/Yoga, Water T., Possum (cym), Before, Tranc., Baboon (Cyms/strum), Patriots (swing), Dance - Tet - T.Y.

end ID]

show was really good I'm normal 👍 encored with full band thank you mario which was INSANE. when the internet archive comes back up I've got a tape that I'll be uploading!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 1

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, more dark elements to come.

Wouldn't mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

The glass cases and sparkling gems contrast your unbelonging as you step through the elaborately decorated entry. Your imposter syndrome nips at your neck as you twist the strap of your purse, the brown leather faded and cracked.

You swallow and look around. Unlike the rest of the mall, the shop is mellow and nearly empty.

You pick at your wooly cuff poking out from under your puffer coat. You go to the counter where a woman in a black turtleneck dress smiles flirtily at another customer. He looks like he belongs, though you're not a fan of the mustache. He chuckles as she helps clip a gold watch around his wrist.

"Does it bring out my eyes?" He kids as he puts his arm straight and pushes his shoulders back.

"They don't need help," the associate, her name, Kelsey, etched on her silver name tag, "it suits you."

"Mm, sure, you're not just saying that for the commission, are you?" He holds out his arm for her to unclasp the watch, his dark jacket is no doubt designer, if not tailored to his tapered torso.

You tune out their back and forth, the superficial exchange only adding to your displacement. You have a budget and a mission. You want to be in and out before you can dwell on everything you can't afford.

You peer through the glass at the Rolexes, casios, and Tom Ford pieces. Your eyes wander, looking for another employee to fetch your purchase. You don't want it to sell before you can get your hands on it. The silver watch with the sapphire face is exactly like the picture saved on your phone.

You lean forward trying to see behind the tall counter then pace to the corner and around the rear of the store. There is only the security guard at the door, watching shoppers mill by. You go back to the front where the customer continues his playful tet-a-tet.

You sigh and cross your arms, heat gathering in your thick coat. Your scalp speckles damply and you sway as your patience dwindles. The man browses the cufflinks as he asks advice on style.

"Ahem," you swallow your reticence at last, "sorry to interrupt–"

"And yet you did," the man retorts, "you can wait your turn." His sneer is derisive as he takes you in, head to toe, almost revolted by your dumpy attire. "That is if you can afford it."

"Excuse me, I…" your voice crackles and you shrug away the insult, "I'm sorry, just, when you have a moment."

You step away and drop your arms as you pretend to look at the earrings. The man scoffs and the associate gives a tinkly giggle.

"You know what would look good on you," the man says as you look out through the open wall into the mall, "pearls."

"Pearls?" Kelsey preens.

"Oh, yes, a nice little necklace around that pretty neck," he intones.

"I don't know, aren't pearls kind of… outdated?"

"Not the ones I have in mind."

You cringe at his entendre and roll your eyes. You should just leave. You really don't have the money. A year of scrimping and saving and for what? Colin doesn't care if you give him gold or a card, he's just happy with whatever.

Still, he deserves it. You just want him to feel special. For one day. To feel like he didn't settle, like maybe, he got the prize.

"You hold onto those for me, sweetheart," the man's voice carries in the vacant shop, "I'm gonna have a look at the tie pins."

You turn your head to watch his figure from the corner of your eye. He sidles around the other side of the store and you spin around. You go to the counter as Kelsey puts away a tray of cufflinks.

"Hi, yeah, if you don't mind I wanted this silver watch," you point over to where you found it.

"Sure, sorry about the wait. We're a bit short staffed at the moment," she smiles, "um, which one was it?"

"This one," you shift over and point over it, "with the blue."

She takes out the watch and brings it onto the counter. "Is it for someone special?"

"My husband," you smile, "he needs a new one. He got a new job so…"

"Oh, how exciting, is this the one then?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"And were you interested in the insurance plan? It includes free cleaning and battery replacement."

"Hm, how much would that be?"

"For this price range, an extra one-thirty."

"Oh," you can't hold back the impact of the number, "um, what's the total for just the watch?"

You hear a snicker and a shadow blurs in your peripheral. Kelsey goes to the till and you move along to stand across from her. The taxes are more than you expect.

"There's a Wal-Mart down the road," the man mocks as he leans on the glass, "think they might be more in your range."

You don't acknowledge him, merely biting down. What an asshole.

"I'll take the insurance, am I able to split the transaction?"

"Sure thing, how do we want to split it?"

"I'll pay for the watch in cash and the rest credit."

You put your purse on the counter and search through your clutter of receipts for your ziploc of bills. You peel open the top and start to count through the twenties, tens, fives, and hundreds, apologising for it as you do.

"You could have a good time down at the strip joint," the stranger comes closer and you turn slightly as you try to block him out. "Aw, baby, am I hurting your feelings? Maybe you could take that money and get a manicure instead? Or sort out that rat's nest."

"What do you want?" You slam down your hand as you lose count.

He smirks as you meet his eyes, bold and sparkling with amusement, "that."

"Leave me alone," you start over, frazzled as a few bills slip and flutter down to the floor. You bend to pick them up and grit your teeth as you resume your count.

"It's okay," Kelsey says, "I'll count."

You look at her and nod, pushing over the loose money and the ziplock. You take out your wallet and slide free your credit card, for emergencies only.

You wait as the man lingers closer. You wince as you feel him touch your hood and you pull away from him.

"Don't touch me. What are you doing?"

"Sir," Kelsey says as she puts the cash in her till, "please, I–"

"Mind your business," he snaps and keeps his eyes on you, "I'm just tryna figure who would marry… you?"

"Credit," you say to Kelsey as you motion with your card. She hits a button and you swipe.

"No wonder you're splurging, gotta keep him around somehow."

You key in your code and submit payment. You shakily place the card in your wallet and pack up your purse as Kelsey closes the watch box and slips it in an ivory paper bag. She tears off your receipt and staples it to the warranty.

"You gonna cry for me? Hm? Or maybe you can go home to the old man and tell him another guy actually noticed your fat ass–"

"Shut up." You snap as you swipe the bag off the counter, "I told you to leave me alone."

"Just one tear for me," he steps closer.

"Sir, please, I'll have to call security," Kelsey warns.

"You won't. I'm about to drop a month's worth of sales on you so you'll sit pretty and wait for me, dolly."

She flinches and curls her lip, fighting against her customer service smile.

"It's fine," you wave her off, "I'm leaving."

"Tell daddy you need a good fucking to get that stick out your ass," the stranger snorts after you, "if he can even find a hole."

You steam and puff your chest as you pass into the mall. Your lashes flick as your eyes sear. Just your fucking luck to run into the biggest douchebag in the place.

[bunni-v1]

(Twenty) Nine Lives for Love

Chapter 2: First Day Prev Chapter\\Next Chapter m.list

Tw: Kenma is a little creepy, but not in a bad way.

Info: Kenma x Reader (for real this time); Kuroo and Reader; Kuroo is a wingman (maybe?); Your cat is so fucking fat

Word Count: 5k 🍓Hehehe, it's finished! Writing this was a fun challenge, simply because Kenma is so fucking odd and weird and I love him so much please marry me Kenma!!! Anywayyyyyy, please pretend that Animal Crossing New Leaf came out just a little earlier for the sake of this fic. Thankssssssss.

Tag List: @angel-academia

Since you moved to Tokyo, a lot has happened. You finished (by some miracle of the universe) unpacking and decorating the house in about a week, managed to get accepted by the shelter for work over the weekends (which you loved so far), and picked out all of your classes for the spring semester. You even got into the Animal Sciences course you were gunning for by passing the entrance test. Everything was going great, you had just one tiny… eentsy weensy thing you didn’t account for.

Nekoma’s campus was way bigger than you expected. Sure, you figured it would be, it’s a Tokyo High School, but it didn’t seem all that intimidating when you went to pick classes. You turned down a tour, confident in your navigational skills – it’s just a few floors of classrooms, how hard could it be?

Very, as you’ve come to learn.

Clutching the flimsy paper that held your schedule tightly, you looked around woefully at the students who passed you by. Everyone was too busy catching up or chatting, not paying you any mind. You glare at your class schedule again, and “Class 3” glares back at you. That is not helpful. You are lost. Very lost. God, you wanted to beat past you senseless – stupid stupid overconfident past you.

Just as you’re about to scream or bash your head into a wall and ruin your reputation before classes begin, your savior appears. He’s incredibly tall, his uniform jacket unbuttoned and his clothes wrinkled. His messy black bedhead stands straight up in the air, bangs shrouding half of his face. He looks like the crafty type like he might take advantage of the situation and make you buy him lunch as thanks. However, when he speaks, you realize you might be overreacting just a tad.

“You alright? I couldn’t help but see you floundering over here,” He laughs.

You flush, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder awkwardly, “I’m a little lost…”

“You’re a first-year?” He asks.

You frown, shaking your head, “Second-year. I transferred from Karasuno High School, uhm, in Miyagi,” you quickly clarify. You hope you didn’t look like a first-year.

He hums, nodding, “That makes sense,  looking for your homeroom then?”

“Yeah, I just… can’t make sense of the schedule they gave me,” you admit, lifting the paper for him to see.

He looks over it, and then smirks to himself, “Ooh, Kenma, she’s in your class.” He says to someone, and hot shame washes over you as you realize there was another person here the whole time.

He’s a shorter guy with a pretty shitty dye job that reminds you of a lot of pudding. You try not to snicker at the mental image of actual pudding on the poor guy's head. He eyes you like he’s considering you. It’s clear he’s taking in everything about your appearance, and it makes you flush a little. You didn’t take well to being scrutinized – especially not by cute strangers. (Cute? Did you find this guy cute?) Something about the way he looks at you is… familiar… but you’ve never met this guy, so you brush it off and smile apologetically.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were there or else I would’ve greeted you too,” you apologize.

He shrugs, eyes catching on something in your bag, then he goes back to staring at the PSP in his hands, “It’s fine.”

You frown, but the beadhead guy sighs loud enough to interrupt any self-depreciation you might’ve started on.

“Don’t pay him any mind, he’s always like this,” he tells you, then shoves his hand your way, “I’m Kuroo Tetsrou, Third-year!”

You take the hand, shake it firmly, and introduce yourself with a smile. Kuroo turns to Kenma, pulling his game out of his hands and confiscating it in his pocket, grumbling lowly to him about being polite. You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you at their antics. 

With a grumble, Kenma turns to you and nods reluctantly, “Kozume Kenma.”

Kuroo lets out a satisfied huff, visibly pleased with the interaction, then gestures for both of you to follow him. You take off first, trying your best to keep pace with his incredibly long legs, Kenma follows just behind you, dragging his feet enough that he wouldn’t match your pace. 

“So,” Kuroo starts again, “What made you transfer here – Tokyo’s a big change from Miyagi.”

You sigh, “I’ll say. My dad moved us here 'cause he got some big promotion,” you grumble, then realize you might be too grumbly and add, “but… Tokyo is nice. There’s a lot more to do here, and the people are nice.”

“Thank you, I do try,” He laughs, “there is a lot to do here, though. Too much, sometimes. What kinda things do you like to do?”

You hum, folding the paper in your hands as you think, “Well, I like helping out at animal shelters – oh and I like video games. I know there are arcades around here, and I wanna check some out.”

Kenma perks up a bit at the mention of video games, but he doesn’t say anything about it. As if he were a mind reader – or maybe he just knew Kenma well – Kuroo beams back at you.

“Thank god, I thought I’d never find someone who likes games like Kenma does,” he laughs, “I was gonna ask about that charm on your bag, it looked like one of the characters from his games.”

You frown, looking at your bag, and realizing the Tom Nook charm you got in middle school was still on it. It wasn’t in very good shape, but you could still discern that it was Tom Nook.

“It’s Tom Nook, from Animal Crossing,” Kenma corrects, “You should know that.”

“You play,” you ask suddenly, and a bit too excited, seeing how Kenma shrinks back a bit.

He nods, slowly, afraid of setting you off, “Yeah, not so much anymore, but I still like the game.”

“Sorry,” you laugh, “None of my friends from home liked it all that much, so I’m excited to meet someone who does.”

He hesitates, and your smile falters a bit. For a second you can see him panic, though you aren’t sure why. Then, he digs into his bag and pulls out a notebook and a pen, scribbling something down sloppily as he walks. When he finishes, he tears the page out and hands it to you. It takes you a second to realize what the numbers mean, but when you do, you grin.

“You have your friend code memorized?” You ask lightly.

Again, you see him panic a little, but he plays it off well enough, “I… handed it out a lot when the game first came out.”

You hum, folding the paper up and putting it in your bag, “I’ll write mine down and get it to you tomorrow.”

“Woaaaahhhhh,” Kuroo butts in loudly, “Sharing Animal Crossing friend codes already? That’s pretty big for first-time meetings.”

Kenma groans, “I could’ve shown her the classroom myself.”

“You would’ve just made her uncomfortable with all your moping,” Kuroo shoots back.

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue any further. Kuroo grows a smug, satisfied smirk, and practically struts the rest of the way to your new classroom. He reminds you a lot of a proud cat, and you fight off the mental image of him with ears and a tail. 

Getting to the classroom was surprisingly easy, and you mentally scolded yourself for making two strangers have to guide you on such a stupid side quest like you were some kind of NPC. Two flights of stairs and three right turns took you right where you needed to be. The schedule with directions from earlier made a lot more sense now that you’ve walked it once.

“This is it!” Kuroo announces, “Not so bad, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry for making you walk me here. It’s pretty embarrassing I couldn’t figure it out myself.” You admit, rubbing the back of your head.

“It’s fine,” Kenma says, shocking both you and Kuroo, “I had a hard time getting around when I was a freshman. The schedule isn’t very helpful for navigation.”

“We were both on the way anyway,” Kuroo adds, “so meeting you was just a bonus!”

As he says that, the ten-minute bell rings above the three of you. Kuroo bids both of you farewell, making sure to give Kenma a hard time about taking care of you. It’s embarrassing to be treated like a helpless kid by a total stranger. You feel a bit guilty, so you try to apologize, but Kenma seemingly beats you to the punch.

“Sorry about him, he’s always like that,” he says, echoing Kuroo’s earlier sentiment about him.

“Oh! It’s fine, I kinda deserve it.” You dismiss with a laugh.

Kenma slides the door open, and you are both hit with a barrage of voices. Students giggle and catch up, excitedly sharing what their break was like, and what they expect the school year to be like. Kenma trudges through them with a glower, eyes glued to a desk in the corner of the room. A few people give him greetings, but he ignores them outright, which they seem to expect. You awkwardly follow behind him, trying to ignore the curious eyes of your new classmates trying to figure out who you are and why you’re in their classroom.

Kenma settles himself in his desk, and you stand by him, nervously playing with your fingers. He gives you a weird look – not quite judging you but staring curiously. Normally you would be hurt by the look, but something about it is so familiar that you feel comfortable enough to explain yourself.

“I don’t wanna take someone's desk and tear up a friend group and be known as the stupid new girl who took someone's seat on the first day like an idiot.” You say quickly.

He stares at you, head tilting, blinking like you were stupid, “Just… sit next to me.”

You blink dumbly, taking in what he said as slowly as possible, and then you plop yourself down in the desk next to him. Well, you were still embarrassed, but at least it wasn’t because you’d accidentally made yourself enemies. Avoiding Kenma’s very intense stare locked onto the side of your head, you pull out your notebook and pencil case, getting ready for the school day. You glance over your schedule one more time, humming as you take it in. Most of them were general classes like Math and English, but you also had Animal Science in the afternoon – which you had to switch classrooms for, but it would be fine you were sure.

“What’s your schedule look like?” Kenma asks suddenly close, making you jump out of your skin. You’d forgotten he was there for a second.

It takes you a moment to recover, but when you do you lean over and show him the paper, “Pretty normal stuff, but I have Animal Science fifth period in Class 1’s room.”

He hums, “We have most of our classes together except that one,” you silently praise the universe for that, “but someone I know from volleyball is in your Animal Science class.”

You’re a little disappointed that you won’t be taking it with Kenma, despite having only known him for a few minutes. But five out of six courses together wasn’t too bad. You process shortly after your disappointment that he mentioned a friend from volleyball, which strikes you as odd because he doesn’t look all that… sporty. Or social.

“Volleyball? Do you play?” you ask, trying hard not to give away your thoughts.

“Yeah. I’m not athletic at all, but Kuroo got me into it when we were in middle school and I’ve stuck with it.” He explains simply, and you feel bad for assuming things about him in the first place, “Do you like it?”

“I don’t play, but my best friends from home love it,” you reply, smiling fondly, “so I guess you could say I do.”

A little smile grows on his face, mirroring yours, and you think that he looks cuter when he's smiling, “You should come by and watch one of our practices then. If you have the free time after school.”

You nod excitedly, then remember what he said earlier about his teammate being in your class, “Your friend is in my Animal Science class?”

His face sours, and you bite back the laugh that bubbles up your throat, “I wouldn’t call him my friend – his name is Yamamoto. He’s loud and intense, and he’s probably only taking the class cause he thinks it’ll be easy fun.”

You frown a little, “It’s definitely not easy fun.”

“I know, I tried to tell him that, but he doesn’t listen to me,” he grumbles, “he’s got a stupid haircut, you’ll know him when you see him. Avoid him if you can help it.”

You laugh a little, “Thanks for the warning, Kozume.”

He blinks, and then frowns a bit, “You can just call me Kenma.”

“Wouldn’t that be rude? We just met,” you ask.

“I don’t care that much about formalities, so just call me Kenma.” He says simply.

There’s not much room for argument with him, so you nod conceding, “Okay, but you have to do the same for me.”

He also nods, a little smile lighting up his face again. He goes to say something else, but the door slides open, and your new homeroom teacher steps in and commands silence from everyone. You give him an apologetic smile, shrugging a little, before giving her your full attention.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

Classes go by smoothly, thanks in part to Kenma catching you up on anything your old curriculum might’ve missed. Introducing yourself was as awful as it always is, but your classmates were very welcoming, so it wasn’t so bad. You eat lunch with Kenma, further discussing the many different games that you both like. You learn he and Kuroo really like Metal Gear, and when you say you’ve never played it he offers to lend you his copy (though, he seems reluctant to do so, despite him offering it in the first place). He even shows you to Class 1’s room, though he doesn’t stick around very long. “I don’t want to deal with him,” was his excuse.

You do immediately recognize this ‘Yamamoto’ person, as he’s the only person in the room with a fuzzy yellow mohawk. Like Kenma said, he was loud and intense, but you didn’t mind it too much. He reminded you a lot of Tanaka and Noya, and even though you were too shy to approach him, you were pretty confident you could handle him if he ever bothered you. 

Kenma also picked you up from class, which you weren’t expecting at all. Again, he managed to come up with an excuse. “Kuroo wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I let you wander alone.” You don’t mention how you could find your way back to the classroom two doors down, because the sentiment of him waiting on you is sweet, and you don’t want him to be annoyed with you. Your classmates stare at the two of you like you’re insane when you walk back in together, but you try your best to pay them no mind like Kenma does so easily.

When your last class is over, the two of you head down to the front gates to meet up with Kuroo. You hold a light conversation with him, talking about whatever topic seems to interest him. Mostly video games, which makes you feel incredibly behind with all the titles he throws at you, but he assures you he’s just more into them than most people are. Shortly after you arrive, Kuroo jogs over with a smirk on his face. You feel Kenma’s dread roll off him in waves at the sight, and you give him a reassuring smile.

“Kenma took good care of you?” he asks playfully.

“She’s not a child, Kuroo,” Kenma sighs.

“You’re right,” he nods, turning his smirk to you “Did you take good care of Kenma?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head, “He was very helpful,” you turn to said Kenma, “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to do all that.”

He shrugs, “It wasn’t a big deal, don’t worry about it.”

Kuroo seems to consider something for a moment before he shrugs and any comments he might’ve said are lost to time. “Which way do you live shorty?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you with the nickname, despite no one else being around, “Oh! Uh, that way.” you point in the direction you remember your house being, giving them the street name.

“Hey, that's where we live,” he exclaims, “aren’t you lucky, bumping into your neighbors this morning.”

You are lucky, you think, but you don’t want to feed into any more of his teasing, so you just shrug. You take the lead this time, much more confident on the route home than you were on the route to class. Kuroo and Kenma quickly fall back into place beside you.

“I’ve been wondering who moved into the Shirashi’s old place,” Kuroo comments absently.

“Were you close with them?” you ask.

“Nah, they were an old couple with no kids,” he sighs, “they used to make all the neighborhood kids cookies and stuff, so I’m gonna miss that.”

“They smelled weird,” Kenma adds.

“Don’t be rude!” Kuroo scolds.

You laugh, “The house does have a weird smell. Dad and I had to buy a bunch of those plug-in air fresheners when we moved in, and it’s still kinda smelly.”

“See,” Kenma says smugly.

Kuroo rolls his eyes, “I don’t like this tag-teaming that's going on right now.”

“You just don’t like being wrong,” Kenma comments flatly.

“That’s it, I’m not giving you your game back!” Kuroo declares, and Kenma prickles at the words. They bicker back and forth again for a little while, you watch with amusement. They remind you of a mother cat and her kit. You snicker at the thought of Kuroo grooming Kenma like a kitten, catching their attention long enough that they stop arguing.

You walk in a nice quiet for a few blocks, Kuroo occasionally pointing out some places he thinks you might like – Kenma adding in his two cents when he felt like it. Kenma points out a specific arcade as you walk, and Kuroo highly suggests going there sometime. As you walk you get to thinking, and you recall your conversation with Kenma during classes. Kuroo was the one who got him into volleyball, and you were a bit curious about the volleyball club yourself. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), Tanaka and Noya were very successful in their pro-volleyball brainwashing.

“Are both of you on the Volleyball team?” you ask.

Kuroo nods, puffing his chest out and jutting his thumb at it proudly, “I’m the captain! Why, are you interested in getting involved with the girls?”

You shake your head, “Nah. Kenma mentioned it, and my friends at home are interested in it, so I was curious.”

“Well, we haven’t been very successful tournament-wise in a while,” Kenma comments.

“This year is gonna be different though, I can feel it!” Kuroo jumps in, determination shining in his eyes.

“You’ve said that every year,” Kenma sighs.

“Well, I mean it this time! Our team is shaping up to be amazing, I think we could even win nationals.” He says confidently.

Kenma rolls his eyes, but you smile, “Passion like that is a good thing.”

“See? Thank you shorty, this guy doesn’t get it like us.” Kuroo teases, pointing at Kenma accusingly. 

There’s a pause, then he asks, “What about you, have you thought about clubs yet?”

You shake your head, “I wanted to do something with animals, but all the ones that are there seem kinda lame.”

Kuroo nods, “Yeah, that’s typical. Nekoma doesn’t have much variety, unfortunately.”

You hum, adjusting the strap of your bag as it moves with your shoulders. Then, suddenly, it hits you.

“Wait, why aren’t you at practice? I saw somewhere that all the teams had mandatory practice today.” You ask.

“Oh, coach let us have the first day of classes off,” Kuroo explains, “We did a training camp with the new first years over break, so he’s being generous today.”

“He’s only doing it so he can work us harder later,” Kenma grumbles.

Kuroo ignores him, thinking something over, then smiles at you, “Hey, we have practice tomorrow. Since it’s the first official one of the season, it shouldn’t be too bad. Why don’t you come to check us out.”

You stare at him like he’s grown a second head. You are a total stranger, and he’s… inviting you to watch his team practice? Sure, Kenma might’ve done the same thing earlier, but you think he was just being nice. Kuroo seems… sincere. It’s a bit odd, you wonder what his motive is. 

“What’s your motive,” you say flatly.

“Motive? I don’t have a motive!” He defends, hands flying up into the air.

Kenma returns your flat look, probing for answers himself, “You absolutely have a motive.”

Kuroo glares at the two of you, hoping one of you will break. Unfortunately for him, you were raised stubborn, and Kenma had the best poker face in all of Japan. So, with a groan, he gives up.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” he admits, “We don’t have a manager, and despite all I’ve tried I can’t get anyone to say yes.”

“So you try and harass the new girl?” You tease, earning another groan.

“Don’t make me sound like some villain. I figured it was worth a try, but I won’t force you.”

You smile at him, shaking your head, “No, no. It’s fine. I kinda miss watching my friend's team play, and I almost managed their team too, so it wouldn’t be a big deal for me.”

Both Kenma and Kuroo perk up at that.

“So you’ll do it?” Kuroo asks excitedly.

You hum, thoughtfully, “I’ll think about it. I want to see the whole team first and meet the coach, then I’ll make my decision.”

Kuroo practically leaps in the air, pumping his fist energetically in celebration. His excitement is infectious, and you feel your stomach bubble with delight at his outburst. Kenma also looks pleased, less outwardly than Kurro, however. Something about this feels… natural like you were meant to be friends with these two your whole life. Neither of them had left any room for you to feel awkward or left out, despite having only met you today. It was… nice. Comforting.

Kenma taps you on your shoulder, pulling you from Kuroo’s display, “The team can be a handful, but… I think you’ll fit in great.”

A curious part of your brain wonders how he could be so sure of that, but you shove it back in favor of smiling warmly at him. “I hope so, I could use some more friends – and a hobby.”

Kenma laughs, a real laugh, and you realize you like the sound a lot more than you probably should. Before you can dwell on it too much longer, Kuroo interrupts the thoughts with some declaration of being left out. You think you could get used to this routine.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

The walk back to your neighborhood is about fifteen minutes, and the two boys you’re walking with make it much more interesting than your walk to school this morning. Most of it is Kuroo talking about whatever he feels like, you and Kenma nodding along with whatever he says. Kenma does talk, though. Mostly to you, mostly teasing Kuroo. It’s nice, you think. You’re still talking as you approach your gate, and you’re a bit disappointed that you have to cut your time short.

As you go to close your gate behind you, Kuroo shouts at you to wait, so you do.

“Hey, since we all live on the same street, why don’t we walk together tomorrow.” He offers.

You give Kenma a little side eye, and he shrugs, so you copy the motion, “Why not? Better than walking alone.”

He smiles, then seemingly remembers something, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. You think for a moment that his parents might’ve been scolding him for something, but then he shoves it over your gate and into your hands. You stare at it stupidly for a second, then look back at him.

“Your number, so we can keep in contact.” He explains.

You nod with a little ‘ooohhhh’, and quickly punch your number in. When you hand his phone back, he holds his hand out. Brain connecting the dots faster this time, you pull your phone out and pull up your contact list before giving it to him. Kenma peers over his shoulder as he punches in his number, then glares up at him for a long second before he hands the phone back to you.

You scroll down the contact list, seeing both Kuroo and Kenma’s numbers on your phone. You smile a little, what an odd guy. 

“Thanks, I’ll send you a message so you have my number too, Kenma.” You assure.

He nods, and then he and Kuroo are bidding you farewell. You watch them for another long moment, laughing to yourself as they bicker – no doubt about Kuroo putting Kenma’s number in your phone. You can’t help but feel a little grateful, though. You never would’ve had the confidence to ask yourself.

You sigh, turning around to enter your new house. As you open the door, Maki practically attacks you, pressing her fat little body against your legs with happy little chirps. You wonder how she’s able to move so agilely with so much extra weight on her little bones. You keep trying to put her on a diet, but when you try your dad would undo all your progress cause he feels bad for ‘starving the poor thing’. You bend down and scoop her up, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I missed you too fat girl,” you coo, closing the door behind you.

As you do that, your phone buzzes. Right on time as always, you think. You set Maki down, pull out your phone, and smile at the messages. Three from your dad, who was still at work – his new schedule had him working late almost every night, but he sent you messages at 3 o’clock on the dot without fail since you were little. It was sweet that he kept it up.

Dad: Hey sweetpea, I hope your first day was good! 

Knowing you, it was. I’m sure you have a lot to tell me.

Dad: I’ll be home late like usual, but I’ll pick us up 

something to eat before I get back. Maybe that 

one sushi place we saw the other day?

Dad: You should pick a movie for us to watch 

while we eat! Love you!

You smile. Your dad was the most amazing person in the world, and you’d bet on it too. Despite your differences, namely your disagreement with soulmates, he never let it affect your relationship. He treated you so well, and you couldn’t ask for a better father in a million lifetimes. You bet he was the best one you’ve ever had.

You: Thanks, Dad!

You: I was thinking about that new horror movie 

that came out.

You: Seems really scary

Dad: Yes! I’ve been wanting to watch it! Is it on that one 

streaming place?

You: Netflix? I think so.

You: If not, I’ll figure something out.

You: Good luck at work! Love you!

Dad: Love you too pumpkin!

You click off your phone, looks like you had a little side quest tonight. Shouldn’t be hard, so long as it’s actually on Netflix. You make your way to the living room, nearly tripping over Maki four times as she glues herself to your feet. When you manage to make it without killing yourself or your cat, you pull up Netflix on the nice new TV your old man bought you. Lucky you, the movie is on there, which saves you the trip to a video store. 

As you set the remote down, your hand bumps into your DS, and you suddenly remember promising to get Kenma your friend code. Nerves light as you pull up your account, and you can’t place why. Kenma made you the opposite of nervous so far, but sharing your friend code felt too important. Probably because of Kuroo’s teasing earlier in the day. Something about Kenma just felt… familiar. Right. Like you’ve known him for a long time – or like you should’ve known him for a long time.

You have his number pulled up and a message typed out before you know it, but you can’t get yourself to send it. It’s just one text, you scold mentally, but your thumb doesn’t move to press send. This was so unlike you, to be so flustered over someone you hardly even knew. With one last demolishing comment toward yourself in your head, you manage to press send.

You: Hi Kenma! I told you I’d send you a text, so here it is!

You: I also wanted to give you my friend code now!

You: 2946-6782-9856

Kenma: Cool, I’ll check your village out later.

You stare at the message for way too long. If he were here in person, he would stare at you with those freakishly big eyes. Chills run up your spine at the thought. 

You: Yay!

You: You can tell me what you think tomorrow.

His response doesn’t come through for a little while, and you worry you might’ve been too forward. (How in the world were you too forward? The logical side of your mind insists you’re being dramatic. The teenage girl part of you is about to beat your ass.) Then, your phone buzzes again, and you dive for it embarrassingly fast.

Kenma: Looking forward to it.

Your heart practically flips in your chest, and you re-read the text an embarrassing amount of times. In an attempt to remain semi-sane-looking, you wait a little longer to send your response. You don’t want to scare him off after the first day of knowing each other. Still, you respond a little too fast for your liking. 

You: Me too! See you then!

After sending the message, you pretty much throw your phone across the room. You can’t send any more awkward messages if you don’t have your phone. A little rude? Yeah, but it’s for the best, you reason. You were not acting like yourself, therefore you had to ‘normal’ yourself before you could continue a conversation with him. Nothing about what just happened felt normal. Are you crushing on a guy you just met? ‘That's so unlike you.’ You could hear Noya say.  You sounded like Takana! Oh God, you hoped he didn’t feel like Kiyoko. You didn’t think he was your soulmate, at the very least. You weren’t that crazy… yet. God, you were screwed, weren’t you?

[pomegranateboba]

How would the ArTw cast react if an evil witch turned Alpheratz into a wooden spoon 🤨

It's us, we are the evil witch

When Alpheratz is a wooden spoon

Arcturus

In shock

You have to reassure him that Alpheratz is fine, he's just a spoon now

He tries to find an antidote to this, we can't have the principal's grandson a wooden spoon

Spica

Speechless.

He doesn't know whether he should congratulate the culprit or find and punish them

Needless to say, it was more convenient for him. He could just bring Alpheratz the spoon to meetings instead of having to run around the school to find him

Also tries to find an antidote

Alpheratz

Spoon.

Pollux

Immediately burst into laughter at the sight

Took a million pictures so that he can bully Alpheratz about it when he turns back

Now he has something to use against him when he calls him short again

Wants to send the culprit flowers and a thank you card

Vega

What the fuck.

Honestly, the behaviour of the sorcerers around him.

Couldn't really care less

Just requests that the antidote be found sooner, because Pollux keeps laughing hysterically

Sirius

He has been questioned whether he was involved in this. He has neither denied nor confirmed this statement

Amused chuckles as chaos ensures

Asked you if you were involved (you haven't gotten back to him yet)

Does not help at all, just watches

Rigel

He heard it from Spica

What the fuck. Part 2

He's just grateful it didn't involve Queen Tet

Though he did ask Sirius whether he was involved

Sirius has yet to given an answer

Schedar (because I'm feeling silly today)

Actually came over to take a picture of Alpheratz as a spoon

Doesn't really care that his grandson is a spoon

"Is this what the kids nowadays like to do?"

Shows Thuban.

Will never shut up about it when Alpheratz comes back to normal

[8r14r-r0s3]

Crack Madoka theory time

Mami is Gretel. Yes as in Hansel and Gretel.

Mami has a very European theme to her. She wields a weapon first made in Europe, she is blonde (a pretty European trait to posses), she has a whole thing around tea, the dance she does in her Rebellion transformation is based on Ice Skating which originated in southern Finland, and her standard unit Magia Record Transformation gives her a fashion design theme, where she rocks what I’d consider fairly standard modern clothing (which most of originated from Europe because imperialism).

“Oh but briar, sure she has a european theme, but like what the fuck does that have to do with Hansel and Gretel-“ shut the fuck up who told you that you were an adequate enough person to interrupt me while I’m ranting and raving about PMMM again. I don’t know if your familiar, but the names Hansel and Gretel are very European. So there is basis in assuming that Mami of all characters could be tied into a western fairytale. Okay okay okay I know I know, Sayaka is the little mermaid, Homura is Clara and the nutcracker, and Kyoko is Ophelia/the little match girl. And yes, dear viewer, you’d be right, but again, who the fuck told you you got to interrupt me, dick hole??? Now 3/4ths of those come from their witch theming, and if you know absolutely anything about Candeloro, you’d know that she’s just a fucking amalgamations of European things: Tea parties, decapitation, and a hostage taker. Candeloro is a lot of things, but a direct fairytale inspiration she is not.

So let me go over the similarities Mami shares with one Gretel Last-Name-Unknown. She’s an orphaned underaged girl (some of you fucks need to remember that second descriptor) who gets eaten by a witch who lives in a house made of sweets. Well yeah, those are the obvious, but what about the implications?

Gretel and Mami both play the roles of harbingers of what’s to come. Both sew metaphorical and literal breadcrumbs for what is ahead of them and what truly lies behind the fairytale. For Mami, this is her death and the truth behind being a magical girl. For Gretel, this is a bunch of bullshit I made up to sound cool. Mami and Gretel also play the role of a nurturing figure, as Gretel is the eldest of the siblings and Mami of the quin-sex-sept-oct-whofuckingknowsanymore-tet. Gretel and Mami also both die for their cardinal sin: gluttony. Gretel is too eager to escape her starvation and consumes the poor witches house, a misdeed that costs her life; Mami is too eager to escape her touch starvation and tries to convince two of the local lesbians to join her cult so she won’t die alone, and because of that, she’s dies in front of them. Gretel and Mami also both play the role of the fool, with both entering what is clearly a trap.

In conclusion, Mami is Gretel, and if you try to convince me otherwise I’m going to become Mami in that one timeline and shoot you all and then myself.

Thank you and I hope you have a very nice day :3

[hana-the-ghostieee]

random fact you didn't need to know but you're here listening: the MV for this song takes place in Amaharashi in Takaoka, Toyama

...yw!

crying screaming throwing up after finding "Just a Sunny Day for You" by Yorushika after 1 (one) eventful summer in a nowhere town before I moved n turned 20