#thank youu... this is a fun question!! i hope this helps a bit

[commsroom]

hi! I want to make a patch for my jacket with the names of all the crew members of the first hephaestus station, and I kinda want to sort of mimic their handwriting, so do you have any headcanons for what their handwriting is like? (not only them but any of the other characters if you want— I love character's handwriting headcanons haha)

oh, that's a fun project!! i'd love to see it when you're done. and an interesting question; i cannot say i've ever thought about lovelace's crew's handwriting before, haha. you probably know more about handwriting styles than i do, but here are my ideas:

lovelace: generally legible, but not concerned about aesthetics. maybe a little slanted. mix of printing + cursive with no particular logic, just depends on her mood. has a semi-consistent signature, maybe with a bit of a flourish on the L that she thinks is fun.

lambert: even printing with frightening consistency; might as well be typed out. the only real variance in his writing is that you can tell how frustrated he is by the intensity of the lettering; he starts really gripping the pen when he gets mad. signs his initials and then writes his full name out underneath it.

selberg / hilbert: unreadable. barely even words. his written notes are indecipherable to anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't think anyone else should be reading them anyway. has one of those quick scrawl Doctor Signatures that doesn't look like his name at all. ... any of his names.

rhea: i hate to just assign her Digital Typeface, but all we really know about her is that she's professional and takes her job seriously. she gives me the sense that she'd prefer to type than write by hand, even if it was a viable option, but her handwriting would be very neat.

fisher: doesn't write much if he can help it, mostly fills out forms in big block all caps with whatever abbreviations he can get away with. definitely readable, but not exactly neat or even.

fourier: ... well. her diaries are proof she spent a lot of time writing by hand, and i would guess that's a lifelong thing for her. maybe it's just her appreciation for jane austen and similar writers, but she strikes me as the kind of person who would've gotten very, very into writing cursive. there's kind of a romantic, old-fashioned flair to even her casual note taking. definitely practiced a signature.

hui: complete opposite. he was supposed to practice, but was much more interested in other things, and his handwriting is notoriously kind of a mess. thinks much faster than he writes, and so will skip over words sometimes, etc. he also practiced a signature, but he wanted it to be abstract. hui and fourier definitely teased each other over their respective note-taking styles, especially given how often they were reading each other's notes.

i like to think maybe hui dictated his letters to his family to fourier, and she was the one who actually wrote them down - as a way to keep her close, and to give her some way that she could help him, near the end.

this is already long, but, briefly: the other three characters i have to talk about...

minkowski: incredibly neat handwriting, as a result of lots and lots of practice "standardizing" her penmanship as a child. keeps white-out on hand just in case. signs her full name in cursive.

hera: fairly neat, if sometimes shaky, and it bothers her if it looks too uniform; intentionally incorporates writing quirks that catch her eye; also a mix of printing + cursive in whatever way she thinks flows best.

eiffel: usually not unreadable, but definitely not neat. if he makes a mistake, he'll write over it to fix it and make it worse to the point it's illegible and then just leave it like that. has difficulty with writing in straight lines or even-sized lettering; it's all over the place. you know he's a doodler.

we do, in fact, have writing samples for him, courtesy of the dssppm:

... and he crosses his z's. i think that's cute.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ MAGNESIUM

tw. noncon, blood, branding/marking, some pretty egregious dirty talk and degradation, threats, mirror sex, horror elements, knife play, manipulation, murder, little bit of gore, there be a dead body in here somewhere wordcount. 6.3k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a lovely lovely person whomst im so grateful for ♡ i reallyyy liked writing sakusa a lot so i hope you like it and it is what you hAd IN MINDDD!! this was such a fun commission thank yoUU a ton seriously! mwUah ♡♡♡ i hopeee you enjoy!!! kiSsES once again a million million kisses to everyone who helped read through it when i was struggling you're the bestest ilY

sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader

It’s almost impossible to believe that everything led up to - this. You’re slumped against the car door in the back, and though you’re not knocked out, you sort of wish you were. Instead you have to feel the hard glare Kiyoomi sends you through the rear view mirror each time his eyes flick up as he reverses out of the street. There’s tension so thick that you can’t just cut it, but it’s troubling the air between you two like polluted water. Silence drags on until you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm up.

“Where are we going?” You whisper. 

The man in front smoothly turns the corner, as an almost impalpable furrow moves his brow. It takes him too long to answer for your liking, as you shuffle in the leather seat, unable to get comfortable. “I don’t like fighting with you, but you always push me.” The dry tone and answer says everything his eyes can’t. “Tonight pissed me off, you know? I’m not ever gonna let you go.”

“All this because Atsumu complimented me?” You try, and when that doesn’t get a reaction - not even a blink, your hands clamp together. “He’s like that to everyone. He was calling Hinata ‘real handsome’ all evening.” Nothing. The Kiyoomi you fell in love with was a bit sarcastic and clumsy in his words, but he wasn’t ever cruel. Wasn’t ever purposefully standoffish. What seems left of him is only the brittle, icy void. You would’ve been better off breaking up days ago.

He also would’ve given the blond the benefit of the doubt.

You can basically feel the smile shine off of your face closing the billowing curtains against the golden light, looking back at the dark-haired beauty splayed out over your bed. You clear your voice. “So what’s the deal with your teammate- that Miya guy?” Kiyoomi’s brow raises a few millimeters. “He’s serious? He’s really like that all the time?”

“The whole flirtatious act?” Your boyfriend yawns into the question, before rolling over so that his muscular shoulders, pecks, and that pretty waist are even more distracting. It’s infuriating how good he looks. But you nod, and place yourself down on the edge - where he trails a lazy hand over the back of your hand. “Oh, yeah. He has this overflowing… charisma that you can’t help but get used to, and learn to appreciate.” He chuckles when you frown. “He drives me up the wall. But he’s a good guy.”

“Hmm?” Your pout is instantly enough to have him reaching around to pull you down onto him. “You’re not worried?”

You try to blink away tears, and stare out the window instead, at every light that flashes past. More to yourself than to him, you hiccup as you brush away the wobbly lines of heat down your cheeks. “You’ve been acting so— different.” He barely glances before turning too comfortably at the next lights, speeding up enough to make your chest feel tight. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I want you to go back to how you were.” That’s the only way you can put it. It’s like there’s nothing left.

Kiyoomi’s mouth corners drop at your confession, but he doesn’t speak. You’re not sure you want him to anyway. His free hand runs through his brushed back hair, long fingers sitting still against the steering wheel when they land. And they don’t move again as you sit in the quiet cold.

“Worried?” He repeats, calm expression changing into a grin. “Please, Miya fucking wishes.” You laugh when his lips start dragging down your pulse and he softly moans against you. “You’ve got way better taste than that. In neighbors - and,” his kisses get a little more hot and needy when his large hands glide down your body to grab your ass and pull you closer, “in boyfriends- and in perfume— you smell sexy, ‘s that new?”

You giggle harder, can’t help but get flustered when he gets so touchy. “I’ll get an inflated ego if you compliment me so much.” He shrugs, and positions you better onto his broad chest. But still. “How don’t you get jealous? I’m pretty sure I would if the roles were reversed.” His dark hair is splayed out over the pillow when he drops his head back, and those pretty eyes flick over your face for a second, thinking.

“I do,” he eventually breathes, “but not because of you, and definitely not with Miya Atsumu.” When you start giggling again, he frowns. “I mean, truly- genuinely-” You snort, and he stares at you with an affronted look. “If you wanna run into the egotistical, bombastic, borderline- pathetic sunset with that guy, I might have to take a long, hard look at myself. Wonder what horrible traits you’re dating me for.” His eyes fall back to you when you take a deep breath, and he goes a little bit softer as you nuzzle up under his chin. “You wanna leave me for a shitty dye job?”

“I don’t think so,” you whisper back. He looks much too at ease in the comfort of your now shared apartment.

The silence that once felt so comfortable, now squeezes the life out of you with all it’s got. Only after a few minutes, Kiyoomi’s voice reaches out, and the shiver down your neck seems to screw the icy collar down tighter.

“Y’know, I hate how that Miya looks at you. Makes me want to carve his fucking eyes out.”

+

About a week into living in Tokyo, you decide it’s not all that bad. Hauling along the giant box of fresh veggies and two more bags of groceries, you can barely look over enough to watch the elevator open, and hasten your steps. “Hold the door, please! There’s no way I’m doing the stairs today,” you sigh, and watch as the doors ping. You slide in just in time, and a deep chuckle follows when your arms start slowly folding with the weight.

“That’s … some collection you’ve got there,” the deep voice continues, “did I miss the call on doomsday?”

You manage to turn yourself enough to see the pair of warm, obsidian eyes staring down at you - soft curly hair freshly wet from a shower. The eggplants and pumpkins in your box start rolling toward the edge, so you shift the box onto your side with a struggling smile. “No, I- I like to buy in big batches and pre-chop everything to freeze. I don’t really love cooking so… that way I save- some time while still…” You fall quiet when he keeps your gaze without any reaction, and clear your voice. Most of his face is kept behind a black surgical mask, hiding what you imagine to be the rest of a handsome face.

But no one likes being stuck in unwanted small talk, do they. He nods though, right as you arrive on your floor and the doors slide open. “That’s smart. I’ll have to try that sometime.” The box starts slipping further. The noiret’s eyes go from your face to your white-knuckled grip, and then back. “Would you like some help with that?”

“Please,” you can’t say quickly enough, afraid that one wrong move will send the entire box rolling across the floor. It’s not like you to admit defeat so easily, but currently your pride could cost you a hundred on fresh produce, and— he doesn’t seem like the type to ask if he’d mind. Your neighbor doesn’t say anything, but his eyes crinkle a little with a smile. Aside from some very brief passings in the hallway, you haven’t had the chance to meet any of your building’s occupants yet. He doesn’t bat an eye when lifting the very heavy box out of your arms, and you fluster. “Sorry for the hassle.”

“No, it’s alright. I have the afternoon off - ‘s nothing. You’re the new 3B tennant, right?” He frees one hand just to slide his mask down when you nod your face towards your door. He’s probably the prettiest guy you’ve seen to date, strong jawline, full lips and an almost perfectly straight nose; dark curls framing smart, observant eyes. So not only is he tall and charming, he’s also hot. When you mumble a soft acknowledgement, he gives you a little smile, and you can’t help but feel a bit too seen. “I’m Kiyoomi.”

You think you like Kiyoomi.

+

The heat of hands shakes you out of sleep with a slight startle, and the surprise soon makes way for a wave of rolling pleasure mixed under a heavy layer of embarrassment - at the way Kiyoomi’s toying with your body like it’s his own, and the low chuckle he lets out when you let out a pinched whimper. One of his hands is two fingers deep inside your pussy by the time you can even blink the sleep out of your eyes, feeling the warmth flood onto your face. As slick gathers between your thighs, he pushes himself up above you, and squeezes your throat between his free fingers.

“Sorry for waking you up, baby.” There’s a sharp glint in his eyes that you can’t miss even with the low light, deep from within. His hand slides down the curve of your spine to settle around your hip, pressing you further into bed as your back arches when he curls his fingers without any mercy. Though you are leaving wetness all over his hand, the sudden invasion is still a little jarring, definitely when he starts sucking at your tits and bites down. “Omi, ow,” you breathe, and he only grunts as he nudges a thigh between your knees, spreading you apart. “Right now?”

“Shhh, just bear it for a bit,” he mumbles back, as his hand trails down your ribcage and forces your body to adjust to him when he hikes your leg over his shoulder. “Woke up so hard thinking of you, and- you were so cute just sleeping here next to me without a worry in the world.” His fingers are replaced quickly by the hot head of his cock, that is slid a few inches too deep right away, and your whimpering only drives him further. “Ah, fuck, there it is. Good- fucking- girl…” By the time he bottoms out there’s silvery slivers running down your face and you’re shaking your head as the ache has you moaning with pain.

But the dark haired man above you barely gives you any time to adjust, before he starts rocking himself against your center and rubbing himself deep enough to force your mouth shut. “You trust me, don’t you, angel?” He pants, stroking the inside of your thigh a few times, before starting a punishing rhythm that rocks the bed hard. The question takes you off guard, but it doesn’t seem like Kiyoomi needs an answer to keep going anyway, and you swallow down your whimper to hide your face in the pillow. He’s so big and rough and your body can’t keep up. “Oh, your pussy’s so fucking good. So tight and- warm, agh, fuck.”

Jutting out your lip into a little pout, you let out a little noise. You’re trying not to let the way he’s basically getting himself off inside you ruin your mood. After a moment, you blink up at him with wobbly vision. “Can you kiss me?” He takes a few seconds before the words register, fucking you harder each time he bottoms out— before his dark eyes go from your eyes to your lips like he’s having to debate it. And that hurts. He decides maybe against better judgment to lean in anyway, and presses his lips to yours with a low sigh, an almost moan that you suppose you have to be content with. 

He pushes your knee up to your chest as he gets closer, and the heavy pressure of his body on yours gets even more unbearable when his free hand wraps around your neck and presses until you’re gasping out. Your boyfriend’s eyes glint as they flick all over your face, and a small grin starts to travel up his lips. “Don’t you like me better like this?” You’re too distracted by the pounding in your head to answer, and whine out his name as your back arches off the bed. And Kiyoomi pants as he forces you to take each thrust. “I like you a lot. Wanna keep you.” You throw your head back, and reach around his wide shoulders to pull him even closer, trying to lock your legs around his waist with a sigh.

“Shit, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he pants into your mouth as he rocks himself into you, forehead to forehead as your nails dig into his skin. You feel bad, but you can’t help but pull him closer by his shoulders as the shower water trickles between you two and makes the entire room a steamy mix of pants and sweaty touches. “So-” he kisses messily, making you smile as his tongue swipes yours, “-damn pretty. I love your body so much.”

“And me?” You breathe back, letting your body tremble in his strong hands as he rocks himself so deep inside you that it’s making you breathless. Your little whine makes him stare, and nod.

“Of course I love you even more— don’t be silly- agh, fuck.” You move one hand to brush the wet tresses of hair out of his face and let yourself get moved up and down him, thighs wrapped ever so tight around his narrow waist. He breathes your name like the word itself is lovely, and you can’t help but moan a long whimper of his name when he hits the right spot so perfectly. “You feel so good, taking my cock right in there- that tight, little pussy. Drooling all over me, huh.” Another kiss as you swallow your mix of spit and rest your hand on his cheek. “You drive me crazy. I really- ugh- really love you, baby.”

Your tits brush up against his chest. “Promise?”

“Uhuh, mh-ahg. Promise. I can’t get enough of you.”

Sometimes you swear you can hear the house close in around you with heavy breaths.

+

The door to your apartment already hangs open when you notice the noise. The low thumping that is only audible when you slide the headphones off, a vaguely rhythmic noise that makes the hairs on your neck stand. You slide off the bed with a little frown, and smooth the wrinkles in your camisole as you peer into the open apartment area - which is empty. “Babe?” The door wobbles when the wind passes through, and your frown only digs deeper into your face when there’s no answer.

“Kiyoomi?”

The noise is louder when you walk towards the hall, and fist your hands into the bottom of the flimsy dress to pull it down. Only after a few moments of thought, your instinct drives you across the hall to pull open the door of the neighbors’, a young guy who moved in after you two did. Sure enough, your stomach drops as the scene splays out before you. There’s red all over the floor, Kiyoomi’s hands, and most horrifying - all over Ryouta’s nose and mouth as the barrage of fists lands over and over again— and you let out a horrified gasp. The damage has already been done, the brunet lays back with swollen eyes and is no longer fighting back, and you’re basically stunned in place as his knuckles crack on his cheek again.

When you manage the next breath, you force out a call of his name between tears. “Hck- Kiyoomi- w-what are you-,” your voice sounds too tiny to be your own, but any more volume doesn’t make it out of your throat, “please stop.” The last crack that resounds before he stops is even harder than any of the ones before— and he gets up without a word, smoothing his jersey back in place. He only quiets a moment, before turning over his shoulder to look at you. You, wobbling toward him like a baby deer.

Honestly, you don’t want to worry about him. But you can’t help but take his hands in yours to inspect the split knuckles, bloody and bruised— as if this is some bizarre dream. Kiyoomi’s precious about his hands. They’re his dreams, his passions, and his opportunities all in one, something to be cared for, rested gently like they mattered more than anything else. And now they’re bloodied like animals at the slaughter. When you look up at him- there’s no regret, no worry or care or concern. Just a blank sort of faux-understanding of your worry when he reaches out to brush your cheek.

You pull back away to look instead at the young man on the floor, because if you think about it too hard, you might start sobbing. Your hands drop by your thighs and feel so heavy, tears drying on your face. “Why did you-”

“Got back from my run and he said he needed your help.” There’s a cold, detached resolution in his voice. “And I told him to forget it, and then he asked me what ‘the fuck’ my problem was.” You find yourself shrinking into yourself when his dark eyes shift to you, with that unreadable look in his eye once more. His hands are slid into his pant pockets with a soft sigh, but he still raises an eyebrow your way. “Why would another guy need my girl?” Ryouta’s been nothing but nice to you since he moved in. You believed, maybe mistakenly, that that niceness had extended to your boyfriend.

But staring at the poor, battered face of the guy on the floor— something tells you that even if it did, Kiyoomi no longer cares. It feels like really, he’ll take any excuse to lash out. Your eyes flick over his face again, before swallowing. “I don’t know. Maybe it was a misunderstanding.” For the first time since you’ve noticed this new side to him, you’re truly scared when he eyes you down. You’ve been upset, and worried, and angry before - but this is new. As the only sound between you two is the shallow rise and fall of your chest, you try to walk up and wrap your arms around his bicep. “I love you, Kiyoomi. I have only ever… loved you.”

He frees a hand to run it over your hair, before leaning down to rest his nose at your crown. “I know you do. You’re a smart little thing, that’s why I like you.” His training jacket still smells like mint and eucalyptus wash sheets, and it does absolutely nothing to soothe the aching pressure that makes its way between your ears and squeezes. And the soft kiss to your forehead doesn’t, either. “Get back inside. I’ll be right there in a bit.”

+

Your apartment is barely a shell of itself now. You realize it -truly realize it- when you toss and turn in your bed and can’t help but get stuck on little things that shouldn’t matter, but they do. The sheets are different, silkier somehow. Kiyoomi got new toothbrushes instead of the old ones with dolphins, and your entire apartment smells just different enough to make it pressing. Slightly bleachy, and too hospital-like. A blue haze is cast through the window by the moon when you softly slip out of bed, ignoring the way a soft puff comes from your boyfriend. He doesn’t stir as you move, though his empty hand seems to reach for the heat you left. Normally you’d wonder if he misses you when you go, but instead the reach just feels possessive. 

It’s like living with a brand new boyfriend all over again.

You don’t like it as much the second time, you realize, trying to choke down the bad air you’re breathing. As you wobble around in the dark, it’s hard to find your footing. The door clicks too loud for your liking when you brush it closed behind you, and slide down onto the couch as your eyes adjust to the dark. You feel like you’re hanging off the edge of falling apart as you look around the room— and try to think. That night when he came home, when he stared off into space and wouldn’t talk to you, your first thought was of another woman. Kiyoomi had never given you any reason to doubt.

He was handsome and intelligent and you were lucky to have him, but he always made it easy to trust him. If he wanted to be with you he’d be with you.

But as more and more days passed, small things got bigger. Not letting you call friends, not letting you dress how you wanted to, glaring at anyone who so much as looked up at you on the street. He’d never been so possessive when things were good. Still, you don’t want to mourn a relationship that isn’t even over yet. You cover your sniffles into your hand, and get up from the couch to go search through his jacket for his phone, or wallet. A stray bobby pin or earring, anything to make sense of the mess inside your head. You wouldn’t be proud of this in the morning - but your brain is eating itself alive. The apartment’s so quiet at night, and the old building pants and moans in the darkness.

The small closet is hotter than the rest of the apartment, more damp too. The jackets are piled high on the dryer, and though you shove your hand down every pocket, your search turns up empty. After a few seconds of turning the last pair of pockets inside out, you sink down into a crouch— and take a deep breath. Just a few weeks ago, you’d thought that you could see yourself marrying Kiyoomi. You’d spent hours by his side, convinced that no one in the world knew you better than he did.

A soft whistling noise sounds from behind the dryer, and makes you wipe your hand under your nose. There’s an old door to a bricked up stairway here, that you never got any use out of. Kiyoomi once stored some brooms there, you think. You don’t know what possesses you to slide your hands into the narrow space between the dryer and the wall and pull, but with some force- it moves. You strain to drag it aside until you jerk, scrambling up.

A track of blood.

Smeared over your normally proper linoleum, there’s a dried off-maroon that can only be blood, crusted onto the wood as a dark patch between the dryer and the door. Your chest caves. Instead of normal breaths, shallow gasps start making your entire body go solid and cold, and your throat dries up. This can’t … it isn’t real. Can’t be. Everything inside you tries to convince you that this is just a nightmare, but even as you pinch your arm hard, nothing happens.

Blood rushes to your bruised knees as you look around, trying not to panic too hard— instead put a shaky hand on the handle. It could be rusty water. A busted pipe. As you move at a glacial pace to open the door, it creaks, and you lick your lips. You can’t cry. You want nothing more than to explode into a dam of tears and unload, but it’s like your body refuses. Every second makes your body pump with adrenaline, until the door clicks open and reveals the narrow space - and in it, something that doesn’t make sense.

Blood pools on the floor, dulled, matted and a disgusting, sticky mess that has you gasping; only to hold back a gag. But in it, sits the slumped, unmoving body of your boyfriend.

The same boyfriend you were sleeping next to just a few minutes ago.

Every hair on your body rises when you choke on the smell, and sink down to press your fingers to his pulse— even when the off white pallor of his face says everything it should. “Omi?” You whisper, and when you breathe out, your throat closes up. You want to wake up. Your first coherent thought is that you can’t breathe; the next, to run. There’s no more heat in his skin, icy to the touch, and it frightens you so much that you jerk back and slam the door to the closet, stopping abruptly between the couch and the door.

It’s when the lights flick on that you do regret that.

Kiyoomi’s voice sounds deeper when you turn. As he stares at you, he brushes his messy curls out of his face. “What are you doing?” You don’t speak. Nothing but a shallow hiccup makes it out of your mouth, but you’re still holding out your hands like they’ve been burned, and maybe that’s enough for him to slide his eyes over to the closet. For a moment it stays quiet. So quiet that you can hear the blood rush beneath your skin, pumping with adrenaline you have no room for. Kiyoomi’s dead. Your Kiyoomi’s dead, isn’t he. “Ah.”

“I- I-”

“You weren’t supposed to go snooping, angel. You’re really making things difficult.” The noiret’s quiet calmness makes way for a slight smile, before he steps out of the doorway towards you. And you flatten yourself to the wall on shaky legs, but moving any more than that feels impossible. You’ve never been so scared in your life— literally frozen solid to the wall as your panicked hiccups send tears welling up in thick, childish bubbles that refuse to tip. He gives you an up and down, before pointing at you as he walks over to the closet, and sighs. “Don’t move.”

You couldn’t, even if you had the courage to. And you very much don’t. It’s so cold— you watch as he pushes into the small room only to drag the body you’d left there out of it. The heavy scraping noise of a limp body across the floor is almost enough to have you totally break. When he dumps the body in the middle of your shared living room, you manage to let out a few noises, strangled, pathetic noises, before you wring your hands together. “W-what did you do to Kiyoomi?”

“I am Kiyoomi,” he says back with enough certainty to shake you, and then smiles a little when finally the tears spill, and you shake your head left and right through your panic.

“You’re not—” is all you can squeak before he walks up to you too close and grabs your face, leaving sticky cold blood with his touch. Your cheek is almost held lovingly, but one glance up at his eyes convinces you that it’s anything but. It’s predatory, a mean glitter of amusement that plays in the darkness, and the harder you cry, the giddier it seems to get. “Let me go, p-please,” you sniffle, “let me go. I won’t tell, I just don’t wanna be- h-here.”

“Shhh, we might as well pretend I’m him still. You look so cute whining that name like it’s your fucking job.” He takes you by the hand after pressing a brief kiss on your forehead, and then sits you down onto the couch. And your chest still feels much too rattled to think about running anywhere, but when he pushes one finger into your mouth with a slight grin, you consider it. “Don’t know any better, do you?” He groans. You want to bite and run, and hide until everything stops pounding— but run where? Your boyfriend’s cold on the floor of your apartment. You can barely stop crying for long enough to take a breath, and the man above you pushes another finger down your throat. “Such a pretty little girlfriend I’ve got- look here-” 

You do - can’t help it when the pressure starts choking you, and whatever frightened look you’re giving him, is enough to make him groan long and hard. It fucks with your brain. It’s still your boyfriend- looks, smells, tastes the same- and if you stop paying attention for a few seconds, it’s almost like everything is back to normal. It’s almost like you’re safe as long as you pretend not to notice what’s going on around just you and the invasive touches that are forced onto you. “Man, you look so fucking wrecked, baby. Say my name, won’t you?” His grin is wide and cheshire-like when he leans in and starts nudging your top down your shoulders. “Say ‘please, Kiyoomi’.”

He doesn’t move his fingers out of the way to allow you. Instead you whimper around his fingers, and try not to choke as spit gets all over your chin and his hand. “Pwea-se, Kiy-oomi.”

“Hahah, you’re so fucking nasty, getting spit all over me. Drooling like a fucking dog while you’re being forced— You like whining and moaning for me?” He takes his fingers out to wipe them on your flimsy camisole and stands to start sliding down his boxers, pushing you back towards the couch. The small grin changes to a tight grimace when you try to grab at him for comfort. “Ah ah ah, don’t think so.” There’s a fistful of hair in his hand before you can apologize, as he shoves you face down towards the couch and holds you there, cheek pressed to the rough fabric. Until your face is hung just off the side, and you’re forced to face the trail of blood that ends in a familiar face.

It’s horrible, and the harder you squeeze your eyes shut against the wave of fresh tears, the deeper the image seems to force itself into your brain. “Kiyoomi~” You whimper pathetically, and he hums in response. Everything’s too close, too loud, his touch is too real and too pressing and warm— burning you from the inside out as he yanks your clothing the last bit down until it hangs around your waist and he drags his fingers up and down your slit through your panties a few times. It leaves the wet fabric awfully sticky against your pussy, and your cheeks get hotter. It’s not your fault, his fingers work you in ways that always work. That thought has your eyes flicking open, but the horrific sight has yet to disappear. “Mh-hck,” you start up again, and try to roll aside as he grabs your thigh hard to hold you in place. “I wanna stop. I wanna stop.”

“Aw, poor baby. Poor angel.” The dismissive tone is cooed as a loving mockery when he pushes you down between your shoulder blades and yanks your panties the rest of the way down. “You don’t even know what to do with yourself, huh?” He then yanks your head up so you’re forced to stare at your reflection in the window, unable to see anything else. You can’t close your eyes to hide from it. Kiyoomi’s grabbing you tight enough to have you unable to move. “I’ll give you a hint. You lay here and you take it. You just listen nice and sweet, ugh-” He groans low when pushing the hot head of his cock against your entrance, patting it with a patient sigh— only to push in with a force that makes you jerk.

Why does it hurt so much? You wanna cry harder when he forces all the heavy girth of his cock inside you and the wetness dripping between your legs squelches loud, but your throat’s too clogged to. Instead only a pinched moan comes out, and he grunts when bottoming out deep inside you. “Girls who don’t listen make me wanna cut them open and eat their insides out. Would you like that?” The pull on your hair forcing your head up is making you lightheaded. That, and the stinging, uncomfortable tightness inside your pussy, squeezing and clenching against the intrusion - still isn’t enough to drown out the horror of those words as he whispers them.

Almost instantly you shake your head left and right, and your muffled ‘no’s melt into a childish cry. “No, nonono, Omi- ‘yoomi- I, no~ pleas-hck- stop. Wanna stop.” He pulls back his hips for long enough to really let you feel the ache of your walls as they cling to his cock, but then thrusts back in and bounces you on his cock. He drops your head back to the side of the couch, and places a hand in the middle of your spine to anchor you down under his weight. 

“You don’t? I think you’re lying. You want to be treated like a sack of meat.” His hips make a loud sound when connecting with your ass. “You don’t like this?”

“Ow, oww, Omi- ‘hurts-” You’re fighting against the caving of your chest each time you exhale, and forced to take shorter breaths each time he fucks back into you. “Ah, ow.” And your pussy hurts, but the rolling of his hips and the stubborn, deep grinding is too overwhelming. You hate that you can hear the wetness of your cunt squeezing around the pumping of him inside, you hate the way he breathes above you, how you can feel him everywhere. It makes you sick. It’s all too much, and still it feels so fucking good that you’re hot in the face. “Mhm~ ‘m sorry. I’m sorry.” You blink through the tears to stare just a second at the trail of blood that he made from the closet to the couch— but you can’t make yourself look any closer. Instead you aim your eyes back at your reflection, and meet other eyes.

“You haven’t wanted to play with me much since I got here. ‘S your own fault that I’m all pent up now, stupid girl.” The steady rhythm in and out of your needy pussy is too much. It feels so good— and you hate it. You clench your hands into the couch as best you can and try to hang on, until your knuckles turn white. The noiret’s voice is back to taunt you, this time as his other hand reaches around to grab the soft of your throat and squeeze, shaking you back to him. “If you want your nice, reliable Kiyoomi, look- he’s right here for you.” You can’t. You can’t. Your tears well over in ugly rivers that you shut behind your lids, and Kiyoomi makes a noise.

You can’t tell if it’s a pleased noise or not, you don’t care. He rolls his hips, and your cunny accepts too eagerly. But it still feels so fucking good. And you can’t stop yourself from feeling like the worst person in the world. Your hands shake, and your head feels faint. Kiyoomi’s dead. There’s nothing else to know. Kiyoomi’s dead and you’re about to cum getting fucked— your whimper gives you away. It’s faint, but he hears it. “Hm, you don’t like him either now huh?” Instead of squeezing your throat, his hand moves to grab your tit instead, pinching your puffy nipple until you can’t help but make a noise. You’re so gross. And your pussy’s still pulling him back in, clenching to the pulsing heat as it fucks right into the softest part of your walls. “I- agh, f- I like bullying my pretty little cock sleeve to tears. So- f-fucking cute like this.”

He ruts into you until your belly feels hot and tingly, and you grind back against him on instinct. You’re getting so close, the pinching, the precise way he hits the needy spot deep inside you - you don’t even want to. “No, no- Omi, I’m- agh, please stop.” You really don’t. “I’m- I’m gonna—” But before you can stop it, your eyes squeeze shut, and your entire body goes tense. The tight ball of heat that’s been expanding all over your body with each pump, each time his heavy balls slap against you, explodes into a million pieces. “Kiyoomi, I love you, I’m so- sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s— all my fault.”

As he fucks you through the blooming heat and the white and black spots that play on your lids, he groans your name low and possessive. Your clenching only slows way after you’ve grinded yourself back against him and drooled all over the couch, until your tired body drops back into the plush. And Kiyoomi lets out a little chuckle. “Yea, it’s all your fault, stupid girl. You lay here and stay— I’ll be right back.” You barely feel the heat leave until it comes back, shoving some of the wetness from your sensitive pussy right back inside with a grunt, and a harsh tap of his hand to your pussy. The sting is sharp, and you glare through your tears as you look up. Not that he cares. “Here. Look. Kiss it.”

The sharp blade that’s basically shoved in your face glints when you hesitate, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “Come on. Or else I’ll put it to use on him instead, and you don’t want that, do you?” Your lips press against the cold metal, but your eyes stay resolutely on his face. Dark curls framing dark eyes and long lashes — you often told him he was the most beautiful man you knew. You wonder if he remembered it in the end. You suppose it doesn’t matter though, watching his mirror click his tongue.

“Good girl, such a good baby girl under all the crying and mess, aren’t you? Almost make me think you like me better like this after all.” You can’t answer, but the tears that wobble sadly along your waterline spill over in the silence— and your lip wobbles. And Kiyoomi only brushes a thumb along your lip, before shrugging. “No? That’s a shame. Because you are mine now. Mine. All of you.” He points the knife into the top of your leg, and leaves behind a mark that immediately wells up with dotted red. The immediate pain and sting of hot blood sears through your skin. “Tell me again what name you want me to write? Say it nice and sweet, angel.”

Your voice doesn’t shake as much as you think it should. “Kiyoomi.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

hii~ i hope you’re having a good day/night! i was wondering if you could do Mu Qing from TGCF with the prompt #16. "Don't ever say that name again"? idk why but i can definitely see him being a petty and jealous significant other (gn reader if can please) thank youu <3

A Tiny Bit Of Jealousy {Mu Qing}

A/n: thank you for requesting and I hope you like the outcome. I just wanted to say that a) I am lowkey loving this coloured layout since the photo is for the tgcf manhua and b) I am still three books in tgcf so I am incredibly sorry if this isn't an indepth writing or if his character isn't fully accurate

Pairing: Mu Qing x gn!reader

Trigger warnings: jealousy

You never realised how and when you got in a relationship with Mu Qing and there had been times when you couldn't help but wonder and question the circumstances under which the relationship came to exist. Not in a bad way of course, never in a bad way. But when originally you thought Mu Qing was just not ready to open up to you yet, as the months and years passed by, you realised that he wasn't hiding anything from you.

It was on odd feeling, being with him. After meeting Xie Lian and Hua Cheng and witnessing some parts of their relationship you could say with great certainty that he wasn't as open with you as those two were with each other. He wasn't neglecting you but he wasn't all touchy either. He was just there and if you happened to want cuddles or kisses, you would have to ask.

On that note, he wasn't bad at picking up signs, especially when it came to you. He knew your reactions -he could predict them even-, your likes, your dislikes, your routine. He knew everything because you were open with him. And it went without saying that when it came to you, Mu Qing was an excellent listener. He could sit down and listen to you mumble about the latest gossip in the Heavenly Realm for hours. Did he care? No. But you were the one talking so he would listen to you even if his ears somehow disappear.

Naturally, he also knew every single one of your friends in the Heavenly Realm; and the ones you didn't like that much.

And god he was jealous.

He was jealous of a very few selected people but not in the toxic way. He would never try and get you away from them since he knew that their and your intentions were pure but he couldn't help but envy the fact that they could give you something he thought he couldn't: a good and fun time.

In his mind, Mu Qing thought he was boring you and perhaps that was the only thing he had never been honest with you about. He could never easily laugh, express his feelings without being asked and most of the time he was a little too focused on his work.

And then the day he begged and prayed not to come actually came. He saw you laughing with another god. Now, on the surface there was nothing wrong with it. He had seen you laugh at something another god or goddess had said a million times and it never bothered him.

But this god was Feng Xin.

"Hey!" Your melodic voice echoed around the room as you walked through the pink silk curtains. You didn't have to ask, it was as clear as day that there was something wrong with him. And you didn't have to ask what was wrong either since when the two of you started dating you made a silent agreement: Mu Qing would always tell you in his own time what was wrong.

"Hello." He responded gruffly.

"I just came to check in since I have to do some paperwork." You walked up to him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek; a kiss to which he didn't react. "Oh! Feng Xin-"

"Don't ever say that name again!"

His tone was harsh and angry but he didn't raise his voice. Him pulling away was enough to realise that most probably you had said something wrong.

"We'll talk later," was all you said and walked away.

Mu Qing sighed and sat back down at the soft pillow on the floor, closing his eyes. You hadn't done anything wrong, that small part of his brain that could think clearly said so. Laughing and talking with Feng Xin was okay. Not once had Mu Qing thought about controlling you and he would rather die than do it. But it felt like a betrayal of some kind. You knew about his bad relationship with Feng Xin so why on earth did you have to bring him up?

Though if he had to be completely honest with himself... it wasn't the fact that he and Feng Xin were practically enemies that made him angry. It was the fact that not once had he made you laugh like that. He wanted to hear that unique sound he had never heard before once again with all his heart but he didn't want it if he wasn't the one causing it. What good was a partner who didn't make you laugh with all your heart?

"I am sorry," he whispered. He had gathered the courage and later that day, at night to be precise, he had walked all the way to your palace just to apologise. You didn't deserve someone who was as petty as him and he knew it but he needed you.

"I know," you whispered back and took that one step, closing the distance between the two of you with a hug. "You always say things you don't mean when you're angry."

In an ideal world, he would have preferred it if you didn't comment on it. But you did and the truth hurt a little but he deserved it.

Gently, he wrapped his arms around you and placed a soft kiss on your temple. "Should I make up for it? What did that bastard want?"

"You know... I am pretty sure that if I tell you, you'll get angry again."

[stevethehairington]

From the prompt list you just reblogged (absolutely no pressure btw, I just love ur writing!)

“I’ll still be here when you’re ready.” + Steddie

hellooo!! thank you for sending this in!! (and ahh thank youu!! 🥺💕)

okay i had SO much fun writing this one omg, i hope you like it.

79. "I'll still be here when you're ready"

“Eddie, come on, please. Cut a deal with me,” Steve just about begs for the third time since Eddie has snatched up Pennsylvania Avenue — the last green property and the only one left Steve needs to collect before he can start loading them up with houses and hotels and fining the everloving shit out of everyone. “If you give me your green card I won’t make you pay if you land on any of the rest of my green. If you land on any of all my properties. You’ll get full immunity.”

“You can’t do that!” Dustin cries out from across the floor, throwing his hands up. “That’s against the rules! No one gets full immunity!”

“No one gets any kind of immunity!” Mike chimes in vehemently.

Steve ignores them both, and the rest of the gremlins who kick up a fuss too, in favor of drifting into Eddie’s space. He pushes his lower lip out at him and widens his eyes, batting his lashes a couple of times for good measure. Eddie’s always been ruthless with his own puppy dog eyes, but Steve can give as good as he gets, too. He knows he can break him.

Except Eddie doesn’t even falter. He just laughs, this deep, amused chuckle, and tries to shake Steve off of his arm. “No fucking way, Harrington,” he says. “I’m not giving it up.”

“I’ll pay you for it,” Steve adds to the pitch, desperate now. He hopes that the lure of even more fake money will make his offer that much more enticing, that much more lucrative, and he reaches for a couple of the orangey-yellow hundreds from his small stack to wave Eddie’s way.

It does not have the desired effect. Instead, Eddie snorts. “What is that? Two hundred bucks? I paid more than that to buy the damn thing.”

Steve pouts for a moment, before he lights up with the idea for a new tactic. Leaning in closer, he turns on the bedroom eyes and drops his voice lower. “If you give me your green card,” he whispers slowly, making sure to brush his lips against the shell of Eddie’s ear, “I’ll give you a blowjob later.”

This time Eddie’s attention seems well and truly captured, and Steve internally pats himself on the back for that. It may be a bit of a questionable move, to sink so low as to promise sexual favors in return for help to win a family game, but all is fair in love and war. Especially with this bunch.

And this? This is war.

Eddie looks up from the board, where he’d been carefully watching Max move her tiny silver dog piece forward six spaces, to meet Steve’s eyes. “A blowjob, eh?” He repeats quietly, the corners of his lips curling up lasciviously.

Across the board, Robin scrunches her nose up at their not-so-subtle exchange. She can’t hear them — at least Steve hopes she can’t — but he has no doubt that she knows him well enough to make an educated guess as to what, exactly, his proposal here is. Ergo, nose scrunching. 

Eddie hums out a considering noise. “Mm, that does sound nice,” he says, and Steve thinks he’s done it. Thinks he’s finally sold Eddie on the trade.

He smiles proudly and stretches his hand out, palm up, so that Eddie can pass the property over to its rightful new owner.

Eddie starts to pull his hand from where it’s splayed against the floor, propping himself up, presumably to snatch up the coveted card. Except instead of reaching for it, Eddie’s hand floats right past it and settles into Steve’s instead. He curls his fingers around Steve’s, then draws his knuckles to his lips, where he kisses them softly.

Steve’s heart flutters at the display, but he reigns himself in. He can’t get distracted. Not when he hasn’t secured the switch yet. That’s exactly what Eddie would want.

Eddie meets Steve’s eyes again over the top of their hands. “But I’m still not giving you my card, sweetheart,” he says, oh-so-smugly, grin turning sharlike as he shatters Steve’s glee.

Around the circle, the kids cheer out triumphantly, thrilled that Eddie actually stuck to the game rules this time, and didn’t give in to his boyfriend, as he is so often apt to do, much to their chagrin. Steve had been banned from Hellfire campaigns for exactly that reason.

“Sorry, Stevie,” Eddie says with a helpless shrug, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. 

“You’re gonna wish you didn’t say no, Munson,” Steve replies, taking his hand from Eddie’s so he can point a finger right at him. He shakes his head, then bumps his shoulder into Eddie’s. “But lucky for you, I’m a good guy, so I’ll still be here when you’re ready. When you come crawling back. The offer will still be on the table.”

The game goes on, and the offer still stands. But Eddie doesn’t cash in on it.

He continues to do fairly decent, plucking along mostly unscathed. Occasionally he lands on Max’s Water Works or Lucas’ Electric Company, and he has to fork over those fees, but they’re not too bad considering neither one of them managed to snag both of the utilities — the perks of playing with eight.

And then somehow, some fucking how, Steve manages to land on both Park Place and the Boardwalk. He wastes no time shelling out the $750 it costs to own them. After a few more rounds collecting rent on all his properties, he gets enough money to add houses, and eventually to trade those houses in for hotels.

The tension in the game has been slowly building up over the last half hour or so, but what happens next — it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Eddie rolls a god damn fucking five and his little silver boot piece hops its way right onto Steve’s god damn fucking Boardwalk.

He loses his shit.

“Two thousand? No fucking way, no way!” Eddie shouts, eyes wide after Steve hits him with the magic number he owes. “That’s all my fucking money, you asshole! I’m not gonna have anything left after that! What the fuck!”

Steve just throws his head back and cackles, rubbing his hands together like the sneaky little bastard he knows he’s being. “Them’s the rules, Munson,” he says. “Pay your fucking debt, babe.” 

He holds his hand out and wiggles his fingers at Eddie.

Eddie tries to smack his hand away, but Steve catches his arm with his other hand and holds Eddie back, grinning the whole way through.

“I don’t know how, but you did this shit on purpose,” Eddie says, shaking his head.

“I did not!” Steve cries, still laughing. “You landed on my property fair and square! Pay up!”

Eddie groans and gathers up his money, giving it a quick count through before he holds it out for Steve. Steve’s hand only just closes around it when Eddie freezes, grip tightening.

“Wait,” he says, sitting up straighter. “Wait, wait, wait. Your offer, from earlier — you said it still stands.” A slow grin spreads across his face. Loophole.

Steve barks out a laugh, though. “I… I did say that, but it’s kind of a little late for that now, don’t you think?” He asks. “I don’t know if I can give you that.”

“You can’t! You can’t! No immunity!” Dustin shouts, waving his hands in the air.

Again, neither Steve nor Eddie pay his outburst any mind.

Eddie shakes his head at Steve. “Come on,” he pleads, “throw me a bone.” He bats his eyes, folds his hands together and holds them over his heart. “I’m at your mercy, sweetheart. I’ll do anything.”

The counteroffer there stands between them, unspoken but very much obvious.

“Oh boy,” Steve hears Robin mutter across the way.

And oh boy is right. The way Eddie’s looking at Steve, the way he’s casually managed to spread his legs where he sits, the way he’s chewing on his lip, letting it pop out from between his teeth all shiny and glistening.

Fuuuuuck.

Steve is just a man. An incredibly, ridiculously, embarrassingly weak man.

Still, he tries to make it look like his decision isn’t already made. Tries to pretend like he has to mull it over. Like he has to debate the choices here.

But in the end, he gives in. Of course he does.

“Well,” he starts, and a delicious grin starts to spread slowly across Eddie’s face while the rest of the party erupts into groans and shouts and utter chaos over this injustice. “I did make a promise. That wouldn’t be very fair of me to go back on it.”

“No. No, it certainly wouldn’t,” Eddie agrees, already inching closer to Steve.

Steve hands him back his money, and Eddie accepts it gratefully, dropping it carelessly to the side before he tugs on the front of Steve’s shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. He keeps it chaste in their present company, but the promise of what’s to come sits heavy against his tongue.

“Thanks, Stevie,” Eddie says sweetly.

“Anything for you,” Steve says back.

And if in the process of “getting more comfortable” for the remainder of the game, Eddie “accidentally” kicks his foot out and knocks the board clean off the table, thus ending the game and giving them an excuse to escape, that’s nobody’s business but his and Steve’s.

100 ways to say i love you prompts

[poppyseedfics]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY YOU TWOOOOO !!!!!! CHEERS TO THE CUTEST BLOG EVER !!!!

If I may,,, may I request tomoya with prompt #12 - bumping into each other unexpectedly from the second prompt list please?

Thank youu and happy anniversary once again ♡ヾ(≧ ω ≦)ゞ

HIII Runa!! Thank you so muuuuuchhhh sob,, thank you for requesting Tomoya againnn had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you like it!💕

Bumping into the other unexpectedly

Tomoya Mashiro

Work, work, work. You may still be a high schooler, but your work never seems to end. Be it your own homework or club work, you never seem to run out of any of it. Yet, you still seem to not be able to say no to others when they ask for your help with something either. Maybe you were just too nice for your own good, but how are you supposed to say no to someone when they so genuinely need help in the first place? it’s hard…

Walking down the hallway with a stack of papers, papers for your club, in your arms, you wonder when you’ll be finally done for the day so you can go home. Then… someone nearly crashes into you, they go past you so quickly that the sudden gust of wind blows away some of the papers at the top of the stack. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. I’ll get those for y-” he stops in the middle of his sentence when he finally sees who you are, “oh hey, (y/n)! Oh- uh, here you go, the papers. I’m sorry.”

After a few moments of you convincing Tomoya that it’s alright while he keeps apologizing to you over and over again, you end up chatting a bit over what you two were doing. “Ah so you were carrying some paperwork? Let me help you.” After you keep refusing his help for the reason that it’s your responsibility, he grabs most of the stack anyways, “geez, just let me help okay? It’s the least I can do, I know how swamped you have been with work lately.”

You two walk in silence for a bit before Tomoya begins to speak again, “I’m actually glad I bumped into you. I was wondering if you would like to hang out later? after school or maybe later this week? If you want to…”

Tomoya’s question was something you had not expected, to be honest you hadn’t even thought about what if you had any free time to speak of. Though, you couldn’t deny his request. Seems like you’ll have to make some free time for him, some room to breathe…

[horizonspurple]

Hiii👋

I don't think it's silly at all. Actually, I installed pokemon go yesterday and caught my first pokemons, and now my buddy to go on walks is Amaura:) It's been super fun actually, and it's been a while since I went on a proper walk before that. And also, I'm sorry you had a bad day yesterday, and you're right: depression is an absolute bitch🤭 Don't forget to do self care😌

It's super cool you had the courage to ask questions! I've been working a lot on that, and honestly I'm slowly getting a bit better at it.

For the ask part now🤭what's something that never fails to turn you on? Do you get turned on easily?

Hope you have a good day and that depresssion hits it's small toe on an edge of something. I love interacting with you.

-your sleepy anon (tho maybe you have an inkling as to who I am)

Ohh good job!! Amaura is such a cutiee 🥺 I'm glad it helped you go for a walk 😊

Thank youu, luckily I'm feeling better today Depression sure is a bitch but so am I xD, one day I'll be the bigger bitch I did do some selfcare, actually removed my nailpolish because it was chipping bad 😭 but I took the chance to clip and file my nails and exfoliate/moisturize my hands so that's something

Hihi it definitely took a lot of effort and courage, but you know I had to know how the hip thrust machine works cus the booty ain't growing itself xD You'll get there, it's hard and can be very scary, but after all we are all just human It helped me a lot to remember that everyone is mostly focused on themselves anyways, people are selfish in that way but it helps to remember that if you get nervous around people

Something that never fails to turn me on? Definitely a nice voice (I'm a sucker for deep and warm voices), subtle acts of dominance, being teased and ofcourse my Dom who happens to have all of those 🤭

Do I get turned on easily? I think so yeah It does depend on my mood a bit, when I'm going through depressive and stressy periods my sex drive is very low and it takes a lot more for me to feel turned on, but when I'm feeling normal or good it's really not that hard It just has to come from the right person xD

Ugh I hope so too, step on a lego depression I hope you have/had a good day as well and I'm having a lot of fun interacting with you :)

I honestly don't really know who you might be, but I'm also not actively trying to find out I feel like people send messages on anon for a reason and I'm okay with that, if people want to make themselves known, they'll do it on their own terms 😇 (I also play anon is some peoples askboxes)

[jordanianroyals]

Hey, I used to come here a lot to take my daily dose of Hussein's news. Haha back when I used to be his fan. I am nostalgic, I came here a lot especially at 2015/2016 and till this day, well. I was a lil bit upset when you closed the question section though. But I loved this blog! Yesterday, I created a new fan account of Rajwa, Salma and Iman. Would you please help me promote it by any mean you want it 🙏 ofc if you want to. I don't know how I felt asking you this haha. It's still weird for me to run a fan account. Thank youu wether u helped me or not 💗

Thank you for being a long term reader!

Congratulations on setting up your space online. I hope you have fun with it. Unfortunately, I don't usually promote online accounts (unless I myself follow it for some time or unless I know the owners well enough), so I hope you understand. I wish you luck running your account though!

[thequietkid-moonie]

Hi can I request Assassination Classroom with a student being quiet/introverted and they really don't want to bother their classmates and also they used to be bullied please? I really loved your last work! If you can't do it that's okay and I will request something else thank youu

Class 3-E with an introvert and bullied classmate

[ PLATONIC HEADCANONS ] [ All Class 3-E ] [ Assassination Classroom / Ansatsu Kyoshitsu ]

⚠️ This contain a little bit of spoilers

I'm so happy that you loved my writing! 😆

I had fun writing this and I hope you like it!!! Feel free to make another request 🐭

At the start of the school year everyone in the Class 3-E already lost hope in the class, being in that class it was a condemnation for anyone, thats why for a while your behavior go unnoticed

Except for Miss Aguri, she notice how quiet you usually are, so she always tried to motivate you to talk more, asking you questions in class for you to participate, always greeting you at the start of the day and saying goodbye in the end, but nothing really seems to work

But the attitude of the class start changing when Koro-sensei became their teacher, the class became happier, everyone start being more friendly, it's in that moment when it get more noticeble your behavior

They start trying to became your friends too, inviting you to hang out outside the school, inviting you to train together and even to study together, but you always declined their invitation

At first it was easy to thing that you're just busy, but the more you decline the invitations the more concerning it get. Some of them opt to ask you about it (like Isogai or Kataoka), other just persist to invite you (mostly Kurahashi and Kayano), but they never get anything from you

This not going to go unoticed by Koro-sensei, he's the first to notice it and he's not planing to leave it like that, he's determinanted to help each of his students without exception

At first will try to pair you with your classmates to help came out of you shell, but if you still seem hesitant then his attempts become more extravagant, and Koro-sensei is willing to involve the others if necessary (i mean, he made Nagisa, Kayano and Kataoka disguising as mermaids once)

Also, Koro-sensei will make sure to make you see that in reallity you aren't a bother for anyone and that they will be really happy to be your friend. At the end you will open to your classmates and became their friend too, and everyone will be happy for you!

For being in Class 3-E for sure you will get bullied, but if you get bullied more, and even before being in the class thats make your classmates furious, even Koro-sensei is mad!

Now, it would depend with who you are friend with to see how they will aproch this problem, for example Karma and Terasaka will go for a direct confrontation and Kirara will scare the hell of them, while Kataoka and Isogai will try to resolve it in a peaceful way. Takebayashi and Okuda will try to avoid the bullies while Itona and Fuwa will go with a surprise attack. Sugino and Kanzaki do a friendly warning, while Yada and Nakamura go for a threat no so friendly warning, and so on with everyone

But everyone in the class will try to motivate you to try and defend yourself from those bastards bullies, they don't have the right to do what they do! It won't be really bad if you show the results of your hard training, isn't it?

[soleilnomoon]

Soo~o... I can't NOT do this, you know? I'm addicted to your writing (and especially you writing OP boys) and can we ever have enough sweets? Nooo~o. :D Could I... *tweedles thumbs* ask for: frozen yoghurt with marshmallows, a fruit tart on the side, a ginger bread cookie aaand some ice cream cake? With some whipped cream and caramel :D And perhaps with Marco / OP? Or completely random: With Corsa (Alabaster Arc), who I think I've never read anything about? Thank youu!!! <3

hi omg thank you for requesting again ♡꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ also ty for being patient with my slow slow writing, but i wanted to take my time since this is my first marco fic lmao anyway i hope you have fun reading 🥰️

4.6k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, fluff somewhere in the middle maybe, angst, smut smut smut; reader is a brat and stubborn, marco isn't any better and is a lil mean when he's annoyed; feat. cute stuff like nipple play, spanking, oral (f receiving, m giving), overstimulation, marco's a greedy mfer idk what to tell u if u see any grammatical errors, no u didn't 😌

the sun sits low in the violet sky, kissing the horizon gently, casting a delicate, golden light along the underbelly of the fluffy clouds above with splashes of pinks, oranges, and light purples slowly swirling about. it’s magical, you tell yourself as you watch the sun sink further, a spell from mother nature herself.

it’s a belief you’ve held onto since you were a child, one that you tend to keep to yourself; people love to turn their noses up at strange ideas, and unfortunately, you learned that lesson the hard way many years ago. you drum your fingers along the railing of the balcony, enjoying the way the clouds resemble cotton candy; you reach a hand out as if you can scoop some into your palm, wanting a bit of that magic to help get you through the week.

a bitter wind blows close by, and you shiver, pulling your jacket around you tightly as you look over your shoulder. you absolutely detest winter — the way you can never keep warm enough, the snow is always terribly slippery, making you slide and fall over. you also hate that you’re stuck sharing a room with the incredibly obnoxious, first division commander. with your jaw clenched, you turn back to watch the sunset, determined to absorb as much warmth and magic as you can.

the wind brings a flush over your cheeks, nose, and ears; you should head back inside, find a spot to warm up, and go to sleep — but the idea of sleeping is out of the question.

marco is as insufferable as he is absurd — for being tall and more handsome than necessary, for being so naturally personable and so knowledgeable, for having no qualms about helping those in need, for being gifted with his hands, for teasing you without even trying, for making you flustered every time he’s near you — and you refuse to let him get the best of you.

obviously, he finds the situation laughable — particularly because you are so against it and vocalized said opinion earlier at lunch in front of everyone. you were so damn determined, went to various crew mates to try and trade spots but they all said the same damn thing: what? why? you and the commander get along so well. it’s not that he goes out of his way to get under your skin, but you make it easy enough. maybe he likes seeing you struggle to find a retort; maybe he likes that when you do find one, that you throw it at him with as much strength as you can muster — but without the venom necessary to make it hurt; or maybe he really doesn’t like you at all.

oil and water. that’s what you told him weeks ago. you’ll never be able to see eye-to-eye on anything because you are two completely different people. except, that’s not true at all — you’re both just too stubborn to see it. especially you. still, you’ll never openly admit that, and keep reminding yourself that had you not taken your time earlier, you’d have found a room that wasn’t occupied by him.

“foolish,” you mumble, breath visible from the cold; another annoyance, another thing to deal with. if you stay outside any longer, your fingers will fall off, so you do the sensible thing and return to the room in the hopes of warming up a bit. after being stuck on the winter island for days due to a persistent and heavy snowstorm, the weather finally lifts a bit. you suggested that your crew sail out last night, but marco vetoed the idea stating that there was no harm in staying for a few more nights — much to your annoyance, the rest of the crew cheered for his decision and the inn remained booked to capacity for the duration of the week.

the owners are ecstatic to have such a lively group stay with them — it’s almost hard to believe that you’re all pirates.

the first division commander was given the task of sailing out there to scope out the newest territory under whitebeard’s protection, but what you hadn’t considered was marco personally volunteering you to assist him with making house calls around the village. given the weather and overwhelming volume of patients, marco takes it upon himself to assist the practicing physician make their rounds in the area. it’s easy given that most of the inhabitants of the sleepy village are in relatively good health.

you watched him carefully and tallied all his grave offenses over the course of the week — the way he made the children laugh, the way he took his time explaining things to various patients, the way he’d randomly look over and catch you staring intently, the way he’d snort and try to fight back laughter only to fail miserably and laugh anyway. a thorn that you keep pricking yourself on, and just when you think you’ve reached your limit, he finds a way to push you completely over the edge.

of course, the room he chose only has one bed; on the first night you boldly declare that you refuse to share the bed with him and despite him saying that there’s enough space, stop being silly you still took refuge on the lone chair in the room and placed slept near the desk. he frowned at that, shot you a disparaging look — irritation at your immaturity given the circumstances — but didn’t fight you on it. you don’t remember when or how, but sometime during the night, marco swapped places with you. when you eventually wake up, feeling surprisingly refreshed and body ache free, you find him completely knocked out, asleep at the desk, a medical textbook open in front of him.

guilt seeps into your pores, has you scramble out of bed quickly, feet softly padding on the cold floor, shivering as you drag one of the thick blankets with you so you can drape it over his large body. bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you roll it back and forth in silent contemplation. because you’re not ungrateful, you lean forward and whisper thank you against his skin, lips making contact with his cheek as you leave behind a soft, chaste kiss. he stirs after that, making you leap back, hand pressed to your chest as your heart does the most disrespectful thing — beats rapidly, drowning out your thoughts, making you dizzy. when he doesn’t move again, you hop back into bed and curl onto your side and bury your head underneath the pillow.

when you see him later that day, he doesn’t thank you for sharing the blanket — on the other hand, you don’t think him for giving you the bed, either. his reasoning is because he’s still trying to figure out how best to broach the subject of you kissing him — or, his cheek, rather — and running away after. he considers himself a somewhat patient man, but with how much time he’s given you to get over your stubbornness, he’s not sure how much longer he’ll last at this rate.

your lips haunt him throughout the day, well into the night when you pretend to be asleep while he sits at that same desk, flipping through another book, but not absorbing a damn thing — he wonders why he hasn’t said anything yet, or why you still refuse to look at him, but he knows one of these days you’ll eventually concede. he must be patient, that’s all.

the following night tests your resolve; you make a small barrier with the pillows on the bed, struggling for a few minutes, even after he asks repeatedly if you need any help — but you decline, as you always do — before finishing and designating sides. eyebrow quirked; he looks at you in confusion. “it’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you inhale deeply, remind yourself to be as pleasant as possible and do your best to ignore the way his dark eyes keep you rooted in place.

“no,” you say quietly, but muster more courage to speak louder. “i think it’s an excellent idea. this way we can both lay on the bed without an issue.” you spent most of the day coming up with ideas and this was the best one; marco’s lips curl and he laughs without remorse.

“the problem is, the bed’s too small for that.” he checks the time and grabs his scarf. “i’m going out for a bit,” he says suddenly, “i’ll be back later.” he lingers by the doorway and says, almost as an afterthought, “i suggest you keep brainstorming,” before leaving.

you grab a pillow at random, determined to toss it at his retreating form, but don’t; instead, you flop onto the bed and bury your face in it, letting out a distressed cry out of frustration. no matter what you do, it seems the universe is determined to undermine your plans. maybe you should just stop fighting so much and see where things go, but when you think about the prospect of dropping your guard down around him, your mind spins — makes you lightheaded and impossibly foolish. you realize, belatedly, that the pillow you’re using is the one he used the night before.

it’s only evident because you’d recognize his cologne anywhere — it’s the kind to siphon all of the logic in your body, infiltrates your lungs so that it’s all you can smell and think about — you push the pillow away and roll onto your back, groaning audibly as you stare up at the ceiling. by the time marco gets back, you’re asleep, holding his pillow to your chest. naturally, he tries to pry it out of your arms, but you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for — so he acquiesces and after changing his clothes, climbs into the bed with you. just as he said before, there’s enough room for both of you; but he knows why you keep fighting him, and it’s amusing to see how far you’ll go to keep up the ruse.

again, you’re compromised, as marco’s arm rests around you lazily, his pillow discarded somewhere, and what’s worse is that you were possessed to do the unthinkable last night — cling to his body for warmth. his body temperature runs hotter than normal, so he’s the ideal person for you to share a small space with given the circumstances. however, when you take into consideration that you can barely function when he’s ten feet away let alone right next to you, this is the worst kind of situation to be in. your traitorous body makes it difficult to untangle yourself from his hold, but you succeed only to scoot too close to the edge of the bed and fall off.

“damn it,” you rub your shoulder and when you get off the floor, you see that he’s awake and doing a poor job of concealing his laughter again. a flush forces you to stomp away and angrily head to the bathroom to take a shower in the hopes of cleansing yourself of the indecent scenarios your mind keeps bombarding you with. you’re pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose, riling you up to the point where a single touch from him has you spiraling out of control. no amount of cold water can expunge the remaining heat from your body — the one that found you late last night when your fatigue had you so delusional that you languidly threw your leg around his, hands absently roaming along his exposed skin, your justification being that it was more comfortable to lay like that.

he was more than okay with that reasoning and wasn’t inclined to let you go; not when your body was so soft and pliable, where your breathing slowed to match his. he’d be a fool to disrupt that serenity and, besides, he liked having you to himself — away from the interference of the others.

you do your best to avoid interacting with him as much as possible, scurry off to the room under the guise of taking a nap — where he gives you an unreadable look in response, one that has tiny butterflies flapping around nervously in your stomach, that makes your hands shake, before telling you he’d be back later in the afternoon. nodding seems to be the only thing you’re capable at that moment, shutting the door in his face before lounging on the bed. frustration swells inside of you, splashing around angrily as you berate yourself internally.

there’s no real reason for you to be this difficult with him, but you’re unsure of how to proceed — your feelings are all over the place and you feel like throwing up constantly. if this is what the initial stage of love feels like, you’d rather spend the rest of your life sinking to the bottom of the ocean instead.

it’s ridiculous, though, that he can have you like this without even being remotely affected — to your knowledge, anyway — you bite down on your lip, wondering if maybe you just need to let go a little. you’re so tightly wound; you’ll never survive at the rate you’re going. lounging back on the bed, surrounded by your mini-fortress of pillows — as if that’ll protect you from him somehow — you think about the hard planes of his chest, how your fingers shamelessly traced along the ridges of his muscles, how he let you touch him freely without stopping you. it was confusing, to say the least, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it

it’s partially why you shimmy out of your pants and socks, toss the clothes haphazardly onto the floor, and find that your fingers are on the move again, brazenly slipping underneath the lace of your panties, legs parting to give yourself more access. this is wrong, you tell yourself as you gingerly dip your fingers in between your folds, arousal pooling as you imagine that it’s marco’s fingers touching you instead. and soon it doesn’t feel wrong at all; it’s freezing outside, but you’re burning up. a memory of his hand drifting down your back, of his fingers on your hips gently nudging you out of his way, of his mouth grazing your ear when you froze and didn’t immediately move.

the memory knocks into you repeatedly, battering your willpower, turning you into a sighing, whimpering mess — pitiful as you attempt to chase that similar feeling — once you starts rubbing slow circles on your pussy, hips jerking as you moan softly. while marco intended on taking some time for himself, he also happened to forget something in the room; so, imagine his surprise when he returns only a few minutes later, hand on the door handle as he watches you play with yourself. propriety would have him leave you be, walk it off, return much, much later and never speak of the incident again — but he’s beyond that now. he closes the door behind him, leans against the sturdy wood, eyelids lowering as an irrational whim washes over him.

you’re so into your fantasy that you didn’t hear him enter the room, nor did you hear him lock the door either. your fingers sink into your pussy, thrusting in and out slowly, at first, building momentum as you slide your free hand underneath your shirt to play with your nipples. it was hard enough the past few days dealing with being in the same room with you, which only amplified his agitation — with himself, of course — when he found that his cock was hard enough to incapacitate him last night. it’s only when he hears you call out his name — once, then again and again — that he bites his fist hard enough to draw blood, feeling whatever resolve he’d been desperately clinging onto snap with ease.

so of course, his legs carry him over to you, and of course he climbs onto the bed to swiftly remove your hand from your panties, his hand rough and warm around your wrist, your eyes blinking rapidly when you realize that he’s actually here and isn’t a figment of your imagination. you finally find your voice as shame sits heavily on your chest, making you squirm underneath him.

“don’t give me that look,” he says candidly, eyes drifting lower as they take in the sight of your damp panties and the wetness on your fingers. you should pull your hand away, but you don’t — too absorbed in watching him glide his tongue over your fingers, licking your arousal off, and lighting your entire body on fire. “you’re being selfish, y’know,” he says lightly, tongue clicking softly in his mouth as he looks down at you, while you attempt to form a coherent sentence, “keeping this from me…” he pinches your clit and drags another moan out of you as you buck your hips forward. “what do you have to say for yourself, hm?”

all you can do is open and close your mouth, for fear of telling him something mortifying — to admitting certain truths you keep trying to bury, but marco isn’t having any of that. not today.

“wrong answer,” he says with a sigh, almost as if he feels apologetic for what’s about to come. a different kind of anxiety fills you — mostly excitement that bubbles around inside, knocking your heart around, making it difficult to breathe as he tugs the rest of your clothes off of you. now, you’re quite certain this isn’t a dream, but on the off chance that it is… you hope you never wake up.

marco’s fingers twitch before he cups your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, his mouth following suit as he licks and sucks on them. you try your best to keep quiet, but it seems that marco’s determined to make you vocal; you fight hard against it, clamp your lips shut tight, moan bouncing around your mouth as you inhale sharply to keep grounded. he chuckles darkly, kneading your breasts, coaxing some soft whining out of you until he bites the curve along your breast. you stifle a loud moan when you press your hand against your mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer as you grind your hips against his. marco sucks his teeth at your insistence but admires your restraint; he trails kisses along your chest, teeth sinking into your skin as he leaves reddish marks behind.

your mind is melting, your body is completely under his spell, and you don’t even know why you’re fighting him this hard, if you’re honest. so, you simply give in — let desire take control for once, in the hopes that you’ll finally purge yourself of his lingering touch once and for all.

when he notices that your shoulders are much more relaxed, he shoots you a haughty grin before licking down the column of your throat, his fingers rubbing your pussy lazily, drawing out soft sighs that quickly morph into moans once he inserts a thick finger inside of you.

“marco,” you pant, eyes flying open again as you look at him, dazed but energized; you lick your lips and he circles his thumb around your clit. “more,” you say, a little breathless from his finger plunging in and out of you quickly — another finger joining the first one almost immediately. “more, please.” you don’t know what you’re asking for exactly, only that you’re slowly descending into a marco-induced-madness that currently has no cure.

“decided to stop being stubborn, huh,” a smug grin takes hold of his face before he kisses you. his lips move against yours with ease, your skin burning as his tongue slips into your mouth. your hips tremble with each thrust of his fingers, his cock pressing against the front of his pants, making it difficult to focus. you slide your hands underneath his shirt — soft and warm, skin smooth as it rubs softly against his abs — admire his hard muscles, and scratch at his chest when you clench around him suddenly, a dangerous flash of heat pooling in between your thighs as you cum unexpectedly.

your hips buck wildly under his hand as he keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you. it’s impossible, the way you’re currently consuming every part of him — infiltrating the deepest parts of his mind, settling as if you’re intent on staying permanently — he hates how much he wants you and hates the way he doesn’t hate it at all. his teeth tug on your bottom lip, sucking roughly before releasing it with a small pop.

before he can say anything else that’ll piss you off, you tug his shirt off of him; he helps you take off the rest, and gives you a heated look, eyes raking down your body, admiring the bite marks he left behind. a good look, he wants to tell you, but keeps the comment to himself. for now. instead, he lowers himself so he can properly taste you. he runs his tongue flat against your pussy, the sensation making you yelp — you cover your mouth with your hands again, which makes him pull back and slap your pussy.

“don’t cover your mouth,” he says gruffly, mouth lowering as he spreads your folds open, “i want to hear you.”

his voice alone could trigger another orgasm within you, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything else. “but,” you start, swallow hard, hips rolling to push your pussy against his mouth as he eats you out, “w-what if s-someone hears?” you could kick yourself for sounding so timid, but you really don’t want to deal with anyone’s teasing after all of this. marco doesn’t answer right away, and before you can tell him off, he flicks his tongue against your clit and you let out a loud moan.

shameless, absolutely shameless; you don’t even bother feigning innocence, you’re too far gone for all of that right now.

“so what,” he says in between long licks, “let them hear.” it’s not like they’d actually have the guts to ridicule you in front of him. you want to tell him how ridiculous that is, that he can’t possibly mean that. but, when he looks up at you, a devilish glint coasting along his eyes, you decide against it. marco is something short of a man possessed, tongue dipping deeply inside your tight hole, enjoying the way your thighs press against him. pre-cum drips down the head of his stiff cock — he wants to fuck you so badly but is also very invested in ripping another orgasm out of you. there have been one too many nights where he envisioned his mouth on your pussy, devouring you like a man starved.

marco slurps on your pussy loudly, the noise lewd and making you flush all over again. he doesn’t care and likes the sound, committing it all to memory for later. when his mouth latches around your clit, a sinister jolt pulses through you, he holds you as he roughly sucks on your clit.

“fuck, marco, yes,” you words are strained, breath coming out in shallow pants, when you cum for the second time, he laps up your arousal, he taste hypnotizing him. you must’ve lost your mind because when he tells you to get on your hands and knees you don’t argue with him. marco runs a large hand over your ass, enjoying its suppleness, slapping it roughly. you let out a startled cry, nipples painfully hard as you clutch the bedsheets tightly.

“don’t hold back, love,” he says in warning, and you nod weakly before he slaps your ass again, prompting you to say yes repeatedly. “good girl,” he rubs the head of his cock against your glistening folds, a shudder passing through him at the contact. he’s so upset it took both of you so long to get to this point, but he’s glad it happened. and you are too, even though you fully plan on denying this tomorrow — because the idea of admitting that you liked marco so much you couldn’t handle it is too damn embarrassing, even for you.

marco inches his cock inside of you and you push your hips back to take more of him. he hisses and grabs onto your hips, fingers digging into your plush skin, a series of moans tumbling out of your mouths when he snaps his hips forward. he pauses briefly, allows you to adjust to his girth and length, and knocks his hips against yours all over again. his strokes are deadly — broad, hard, filthy — your back arches as you bounce against him, pussy tight and hot around him. not one to lose control of himself without reason, he finds himself unraveling quickly. he grabs your ass as he lifts his hips to angle his cock differently.

by now you’re sure your crew mates have all heard you scream marco’s name, panting as you beg him to fuck you harder, his hand wrapping around your thick hair, yanking you back towards him. he bites your neck as his hips remain close, strokes brutal and fast. you doubt you’ll be able to fuck anyone else after him. his body envelopes yours, sweat trailing down the side of his face, a light sheen coating your forehead and chest. he sucks on your neck recklessly, flicking his tongue at the spot, your hips bucking against him.

he pushes you down onto the bed, pulling out and rolling his hips forward, burying his cock in one go, a deep groan rumbling from deep inside of him. it’s feral, the way his thrusts are frenzied, possessive, tantalizing; a bit of drool trails down your lip, onto your chin as you sob, another orgasm powering through you. he pulls out again, rolls you onto your back, your lips parted — swollen from the way he kissed you earlier — eyelids lowered, a bit of adoration and hunger coasting along your face. there’s no way he can let you go after this; it simply wouldn’t work.

marco plunges his cock back into your puffy, aching cunt, your legs wrapping around him once more, your nails sinking into his skin as you scratch him. his lips are on yours again, tongue caressing yours hotly as he thrusts into you ardently, the orgasm lasting longer than necessary, body trembling from overstimulation. “i know,” he says in between kisses, reassuring you that he’s not that barbaric, “i know, i’ve got you.” something about the way he says that fills your chest with warmth, making you clench around his cock, your soft, plush walls milking him — spoiled and just as greedy, but he has no problems indulging you for something like this.

kissing you fervently, all teeth and tongue — messy, intense, crazed as you tug cling to him, hips rocking against his, pushing him over the edge indefinitely. his cum is thick, hot — even more as he keeps fucking you. later, you’ll tell him that he’s insatiable, an actual monster — but for now, you’re much too preoccupied with the delicious waves of euphoria that take over you. his hips slow but he doesn’t pull out right away, opting to kiss you again — properly, taking his time to map out your lips with his — breathing uneven, body heavy but a welcomed weight over you.

despite all of your theatrical tantrums, you know that a part of the reason why marco fucked you so hard was to tame that side of you. if he knows he was successful, you’ll never hear the end of it. so you don’t say a thing and enjoy the way your body feels light and weightless, a feverish hazes taking over you in the end, your arms wrapping around him, not wanting to let him go anytime soon — which is fine with him, your pussy is top priority on his list of things to do today, anyway.

[celestialdusks]

Mila pls!! Your characters are always amazing aaaah!!! All the little details you put into them just make them feel so well fleshed out and so interesting!! Also as someone who's acespec and mixed POC can I just say I really do appreciate the effort that you've put into making the entire cast POC and some of them acespec. I'm living for this game. Also the character names, like bestie hello?! How do you find these amazing names, your taste for them are impeccable I must say. This might be a bit of a stupid question, but I'm just really curious how do you decide on your characters personality? I know some writers who kind of gave their characters personality be slightly influenced by their name meaning, zodiac sign and MBTI type and other writers tht do it with the other way round come up with the character first and then decide from there and I was wondering which of those you did or whether you follow a different route? 💖

ahh, hello!! this is such a sweet ask, thank youu so much! it really makes me so happy that people like the characters i create. <333

and with this story, even if it isn't a success, having an all POC cast with representation of different sexualities will always have a special place in my heart <3

i think picking names is both my favourite and one of the most frustrating parts. naming R was definitely a bit of a chore. Ryah was the only one that stuck for a while, and then characters' surnames were also a bit of a struggle because i wanted the majority of them to represent where each of them were from. but yup, love coming up with names, and finding unisex names too!

personalities: i think all of the characters i create have a part of my own personality in them, and then the one i connect to the most ends up being my comfort character (C, I'm looking at you!). then i end up giving them personality traits i personally wish i had, and also look at other characters in fiction i really admire. then come up with their MBTI types, that helps me understand characters a little more, especially when it comes to characters interacting in game.

i hope this was a fun insight into my creating process! <3

[narrators-journal]

Hii, can I request for angst to fluff with chuuya where he gets all overprotective. Thank youu

I hope this is angsty and fluffy enough for you! I tried my best with this one, but I admittedly didn't really lean into the overprotective aspect, not much anyway.

As the sunset outside, bathing the city in darkness in that small window of time before the populace came alive again for the later hours, you bustled around your apartment, fresh from the shower and getting ready to go out. Just as you were saying goodbye to your best friend to finish getting ready, you heard your front door unlock and open before your boyfriend called out for you.

When Chuuya got to your room, he found you pulling on some of your better clothing, your (h/c) hair tousled from a thorough toweling,          "Oh, you getting dolled up for me?" He hummed, coming over to hook his powerful arms around your waist, kissing your cheek and swiftly down your neck while you laughed,          "No, it isn't for you," he pulled a face as you swat him away gently,          "I'm going out with my friends, but afterward we can do something on our own~" With that, you kissed his cheek and continued to get dressed up. Meanwhile, Chuuya huffed and plopped onto your bed heavily, watching you get ready for a moment before speaking again,          "Why don't you stay in tonight? You and I could do something special, and I can reimburse you for any spoiled plans," You shot him a slightly annoyed look,           "I'm not taking your money, Chuuya, and no. I've had this all planned out for a week, you knew I was going out with friends, I'm not canceling at the last minute." With that, you left the room to get your shoes and keys, the redhead following behind.

The two of you continued to argue as you gathered your things, the redhead trying to take your things from you as you bickered on your way to the door. Before you could open the door and step out into the night, he slammed a hand onto the door, stopping any attempt of you storming out,            "What if I just didn't let you go out?" he asked coldly, his blue eyes narrowed at you, a look you matched,            "I'd say you're toeing a very thin line, Nakahara. Move your hand, please." After that, the two of you glared at one another for a long, tense moment before the possibly smaller redhead shoved off of your door and finally let you go outside.

After that, you went out with your friends and had a good time, drinking, talking, all of the usual meet-up fun. In the end, you didn't start heading for home until it was properly dark, the hour obscured by the still-thriving streets of the bar area you'd gone to with friends, but it became pretty evident to you how late it was when you came to a quieter area and found barely a soul on the street with you. Nonetheless, you continued on down the sidewalk, humming to yourself and enjoying the light buzz you'd allowed yourself in your get-together. Then, just as you were looking down to check your messages to see if Chuuya was still lingering at your house, a pair of gloved hands shot out of a thin alleyway and dragged you into the silver of garbage and shadow with a cold knife pressed to your throat.

The rest of the interaction was a blur. You were instantly pumped full of adrenaline, so it was hard to focus on the questioned hurled at you by the strangers. Your focus was more on the glinting, cold silver of the knife they were swinging around, menacing it at you when you didn't give a coherent enough answer through your hiccuping sobs. You tried to squirm free, but the other two people helping the knife-wielder kept you in place. They gripped your arms in a vice grip, surely leaving bruises on your (s/c) skin. The one with the knife, meanwhile, continued to grill you, leaving slashes on your face and torso whenever you didn't know a satisfactory answer to his inquiries. In the end, you could only squeeze your (e/c) eyes shut. You couldn't answer their questions, you had no clue about the mafia beyond urban legend and rumors, you had no clue why they were so interested in Chuuya, so you took a ragged breath and shook with sobs while refusing to look at your attackers. Your legs turned to mush, forcing you to sink until the other two were the only ones holding you up.

Suddenly, a burning pain cut into your stomach, forcing you to open your widening eyes and draw in an instinctual gasp. In a flash, your body entirely burned but was also growing cold as your blood ran out onto the alleyway floor. It was such an odd feeling, one that sent your brain into a frenzy, your ears ringing loud enough to drown out whatever chaos was going on around you. You were numb. Even after you fell to the ground limply. It felt like forever until you could bring yourself to lift a shakey, weak arm to your wound and bring your hand into view. Your (s/c) fingers were painted a warm, sticky red when you saw them. Oh my god...I'm going to die, aren't I? You realized, unable to tell if your shallow breathing was an attempt to lessen the pain pulsing from your wounds, or from some form of a panic attack. Either way, in the end, you gave up your consciousness to the night.

When you regained consciousness, everything felt heavy and out of focus. When things finally came back to you enough for your brain to register your new surroundings, you realized that you were no longer in the trash-littered alley, but a tub. Chuuya's tub. Slowly, you sat up in the tub as best you could, looking around your boyfriend's bathroom, wincing a bit, and looking down at yourself. Only then did you realize that your stomach was wrapped in red-splotched bandages. So no, you weren't dead.

Just as you were running your fingers over the coarse, tightly weaved wrappings, Chuuya walked in, more bandages tucked under his arm with other bandages.           "Oh shit, you're awake." he realized, dropping the medical supplies and hurrying over to check you over as if you could've further hurt yourself so soon after waking up. However, you didn't complain, letting the man wrap an arm around you, wiping away the tears that began to pour from your eyes.          "I'm sorry! I should've stayed in," You blubbered, clinging to your boyfriend as he cuddled you and shushed you,          "There's no need for you to apologize, dear. My demands were stupid, this isn't your fault," he promised, stroking your (h/l), (h/c) hair as you sobbed. After that, Chuuya kept you in his arms, hushing you gently and assuring you that you were safe and not at fault.

[aomine-ryo]

kise breaking up with fem s/o like maybe he just used her or it was a bet or idk (yaaas angst but idk if you could make a HEA work at the end?? but yeah :P) scenario pls thank youu ❤️❤️

The DRAMA lmaooo

I really like writing for Kise ngl so it’s kinda long. I hope you like this :) x

Scenario: Kise using and breaking up with a fem! s/o

Kise Ryouta likes playing games. Basketball, football, tennis— you name it, he’s probably played it. But things like sports take a long time to hone enough skills to thoroughly enjoy it. So what does Kise do when he’s in the need for a quick bit of fun? Fool around with girls’ hearts, of course.

Kise’s track record with girls has not been the best. In fact, the track record is so incredibly long that it would take a week to get through it all. Despite this, he gets girls falling for him time and time again because of his looks. It’s quite pathetic to him really. At this point, he’s just seeing how far he can go with this. The moment he gets bored with the girl he’s with, he calls it quits and moves on to the next. Toying with their feelings over and over.

You were fully aware of this. But for some reason, you thought you were different. No one could blame you to be fair. There’s something charming about Kise that no one could resist.

Prior to your relationship, you and Kise were actually quite close as far as classmates went. He was paired as your lab partner for Chemistry and he also sat behind you for Math so it was inevitable that you had to communicate. He’d tell you all about basketball and all his endeavours with other girls and you’d just listen whilst trying to make sure he didn’t cause any chemicals to explode (it was quite ridiculous how often this nearly happened).

“So, Y/N, what’s your deal?” He asked you in the middle of a practical activity one day.

“My deal?” You repeated in a questioning tone, taking your eyes off of your notes to look at him in confusion.

“You know, I’m always the one sharing. Tell me about yourself. Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked you.

You did your best to hold back a laugh so that you didn’t seem pathetic in front of your crush. “No, I don’t,” you answered simply.

“Seriously? When did your last relationship end?” he asked, getting way too comfortable with the questions.

“I’m not sure. Maybe a year ago?” you replied, hoping this conversation would end because it was embarrassing on your part.

“A year?!” Kise exclaimed far too loud for your comfort.

“Geez let the whole school know, why don’t you?” You snapped, a tint of pink rising in your cheeks as you looked around nervously.

“Well that’s just simply wrong. Someone as cute as you shouldn’t be single for that long,” Kise said smoothly, catching you off guard as your cheeks got even brighter.

“Hm, sure,” you muttered in a sarcastic tone as you did your best not to leap in joy at the fact that he called you cute.

“No, I’m serious. Let me take you out on a date,” Kise said with his award winning smile.

You felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest and lay limp on the table in front of you. “Ha ha very funny. As if you even like me like that,” you said, maintaining your cool and logical thinking.

Kise placed his hand on top of yours, which was resting on the table, the sudden warmth sending your mind into a frenzy as you looked at him with concern. “Well I’ve actually liked you for a while now. I was kind of just working up the courage to actually ask you out,” he said, the sweetness of his words paired with the way his thumb grazed over the back of your palm swaying your judgement.

You took a deep breath in attempt to collect your thoughts. You had to be realistic here. You didn’t want to end up like those other girls he talked about. “You’ve practically gone around the whole school. What makes me so different to the other people you’ve gone out with?” you said, hating how harsh you sounded.

Kise seemed to be impressed by your response. It wasn’t often that girls would question him like this. However, it just make him smile with joy. He liked a challenge; you would be adding good fun to Kise’s game.

“I’m not sure. Something about you makes you so easy to talk to. You should know— after all, you know so much about me at this point when I barely know anything about you,” Kise said before tightening his grip on your hand. “We’d work well as a couple, don’t you think?”

You tried to think it over, but your mind was far too blown away with this information that you couldn’t even form a coherent thought. Every part of you screamed at you to say yes, but you were still hesitant. You didn’t want to end up getting hurt. “Could you give me some time to think about it?” You asked, noticing Kise’s smile falter a bit.

Hearing that answer made him ecstatic though. It had been a while since someone seemed to be uninterested. It just meant that he could try harder and improve his game. Which is exactly what he did. He gave you a few days to think about it, but he certainly didn’t sit idle and wait around for a response. He’d send you texts every now and then, engage in flirty conversations with you during class, and even buy you chocolates in attempt to get you to say yes.

It worked though. In the end, you couldn’t say no to Kise Ryouta.

To you, it seemed like he liked being around you. He was always giggly and cheery and your relationship seemed to be lasting longer than the average length of Kise’s past relationships. Maybe you were the one who could finally tie him down.

“Hey there, cutie,” Kise smiled at you as he walked into the classroom of your after-school club one evening.

As usual, the supervisor was not around when Kise entered so he took his liberty in placing a peck on your lips as a way to greet you. A few of his exes were a part of your club and they’d always roll their eyes at the act, but you didn’t pay too much attention to it. “Hi Ryouta,” you’d reply softly once he pulled away, though his hand would remain on your waist.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Err,” your eyes scanned your area to see if you’d left any of your belongings. “Yep, all good,” you nodded, letting him lead the way out as you waved a quick goodbye to your friends.

“So, how was your practice?” you asked him as you walked across the school campus towards the gates.

“It was fine. Nothing new. You should come watch me practice, it’d be much more fun with you there,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder and causing you to lose your balance for a moment.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the act. You were now pressed against the side of his body as you walked, and the scent of his sweet cologne was stronger than ever. “You know I would if I could,” you replied.

“I like having you there to cheer me on. Plus I won’t miss you during practice then,” Kise said, causing you to blush. He’d used this line on countless other girls before and it always worked. It was fun to watch how you’d all just wrap around his finger so simply.

“God that’s so cheesy,” you said, averting your gaze out of embarrassment.

“Well it’s true,” Kise responded. He didn’t get that kind of response often but it was still clear as day that you enjoyed it.

Kise placed a kiss on the top of your head as you two continued to walk and talk about your days. This was how it always was with Kise. He’d pick you up after school and walk you home, saying goodbye to you with a rather passionate kiss.

Every now and then, Kise would be left home alone, so he’d call you over. And who were you to say no spending time like that with Kise? You had to admit, Kise knew what he was doing. You were never left unsatisfied. Surprisingly to Kise, he actually enjoyed this time you spent together more than he did with most other girls. He didn’t think too much of it though because he had made up his mind about you. You were just another one of his little games.

A few weeks into the relationship, you had started feeling more comfortable with your relationship with Kise. In fact, most of the school had begun to identify you two as a couple. Everything seemed to be going smoothly with him though, so you weren’t all too worried about that because you genuinely did feel like there was something between you two.

One Friday evening though, he picked you up after school with a smile like he always would. The two of you liked to visit a nearby cafe after school on Fridays so that’s where you were headed. He listened to you talk about your day though he seemed to be a little less responsive than usual.

“Hey Ryouta, is something wrong?” you asked him after you two finally settled down at the cafe after placing your orders.

“I know this is kind of sudden, but can I be honest for a moment?” Kise asked, a discomforted expression sitting upon his face.

“Of course, you can tell me anything,” you nodded, putting a hand over his reassuringly as a waitress placed his hot chocolate and your strawberry milkshake on the table.

“These past few weeks with you have been amazing,” Kise began. He always hated this part— it was such a pain. “And you’re really a cool person.”

“Aw thank you. That’s so sweet of you,” you smiled as he took a sip of his beverage.

“But I don’t think that this is going to work out between us, Y/N,” he said, making your heart sink.

“What?” you said hoarsely, unable to believe your ears.

“I think we should break up,” he reiterated.

You struggled to fight back your tears as your throat felt as though it was closing up. You should’ve known this would happen. “I don’t understand. What went wrong?”

“Y/N, you’re amazing and I feel like you probably deserve better than me,” Kise said. He’d used this line many times before too. However, a small part of him was genuine about it this time.

“Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?” You said, thinking out loud.

Kise was taken aback by your response. Did you see through him? “Lying to you? About what?”

“About why you’re breaking up with me. Someone like you wouldn’t think that there’s anyone ‘better’. So what is it? Is there someone else?” you couldn’t believe how blunt you were being. Your mind was moving too fast for you to process what was even going on.

Kise hesitated for a moment. He didn’t have to tell you the truth. He could easily lie his way out of this. Make up any other reason that isn’t the truth to spare your feelings. How could he say that he’s bored of playing around with you in a nice way? “I never actually wanted to be with you,” he said, words flying out of his mouth as if he drank a truth potion.

“Excuse me?” You said, appalled by what you were hearing.

“I mean, I was using you— wait no, I was just messing around.” Kise was a stuttering mess. Why was he saying this stuff? Why was he nervous to hurt your feelings? Why couldn’t you have just accepted that he wanted to break up easily like everyone else?

“You were using me?” You repeated his words, your sadness slowly turning into anger. “So was I just another fling of yours?”

“No,” Kise replied immediately. What was he saying? Yes you were.

“No?”

“I mean, yes you were. I was just bored and decided to date you for fun,” Kise said honestly, unable to even look at you in the face.

“So it’s true then. I’m just another one of your throwaway girls?”

“Yes,” Kise said. His eyes looked down in shame. Why was he mad at himself?

“You’re such an asshole!” You yelled, throwing your milkshake into his face, gaining the attention of everyone at that cafe. “Never talk to me again.”

You stormed out of the cafe, wiping the tears away from your eyes as you did so. Kise was left sticky, soaking and dumbfounded. This was certainly a first. He grabbed a few tissues to wipe the drink off of himself, but it was no use, he was still visibly covered in it. He quickly left the cafe too after apologising to the workers for causing a scene. He felt so embarrassed. Not once did he ever feel so hurt after a break up.

“Ugh what a bitch,” he muttered to himself as he walked home all sticky. Why was that so incredibly difficult? If anything, he was glad you told him not to talk to you again because he was equally mad at you for putting him on the spot like that.

When he got home, he immediately took a shower and tossed his clothes in the laundry basket. Once he was finally clean, he landed on his bed with a tired sigh, beginning to go through his phone like he usually would when he gets back from school. He noticed that you had blocked him on all social media, so there was no way of contacting you— not that he wanted to anyways.

He spent the rest of his weekend lazing around and going out with his friends like he usually would. He tried to get a fresh start and get the numbers of a few cute girls he saw, but for some reason all he could think about was you. He’d ask for a girl’s number and they were more than compliant, no witty comments like you would do. He’d go to the mall with his friends and remember which stores you liked to shop at. Hell, he couldn’t even have peace in his own bedroom because he’d remember you laying there with him. Countless other girls have been on this bed so why were you the one that stuck?

Kise did his best to avoid you at school. It wasn’t all that hard since you were doing the same. You inevitably had to work with him during Chemistry, but you could do so with minimal words exchanged.

A few weeks went by and Kise still couldn’t get you out of his mind. He tried going out with other girls but they never kept Kise’s attention long enough for him to forget about you. There were even times where he’d almost call them by your name. It was getting pathetic at this point. Maybe he did actually like you.

Kise’s mind entertained this thought for a while and it was slowly picking him apart. It even began to affect his performance at basketball because his mind was so occupied with the thought of being in an actual relationship with you. He was beginning to grow tired of running extra laps as a punishment for not being focused.

What made you so different? Kise couldn’t figure it out no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps that milkshake to the face woke him up. No other girl would dare do that to him. We he really being swayed by the fact that you threw a milkshake at him?

Eventually he gave up trying to figure it out. However he did come to a conclusion. He wanted to be with you. For real this time.

He managed to run into you after school one day. After dating you, he managed to memorise your schedule so finding you wasn’t too much of an issue for him. “Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Kise said.

Hearing his voice immediately made you turn on your heel and attempt to walk away as fast as you could. It was no use though, Kise quickly caught up to you and stopped you my grabbing onto your wrist.

“What the hell do you want?” You snapped.

“I wanted to say that I was sorry for using you like that,” Kise replied, pushing away his pride.

“What do you want me to say? That it’s okay that you wasted my time?” You retorted, trying to wiggle your wrist away from Kise’s hold.

“I genuinely am sorry. Something about you made it so that you never left my mind and now I’m trying to change, I just don’t know where to start,” Kise explained. “How do I get you to forgive me?”

“You can’t. Just leave me alone, why don’t you?” You said, finally breaking away from his grasp and walking away before he could bring you to tears again.

Kise ran after you once more. “Y/N, please. I really like you. I want to date you— for real this time,” he pleaded.

You finally stopped in your tracks. You stared at him with the coldest expression your face had ever worn. “Are you insane? What kind of desperate idiot do you take me to be to think that I’d agree to going out with you again?” you said, raising your voice.

“I don’t know what more I can say except that I’m sorry about before. I genuinely do like you, Y/N. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since we broke up. Ask any girl I’ve dated and I can assure you that I’ve never backtracked like this before,” Kise said, noticing tears of frustration beginning to well up in your eyes.

If you were being honest, you really wanted to believe that he liked you. The time you spent together wouldn’t have felt like a waste if that were the case. However it still hurt. And you didn’t want to be hurt like that again. “I don’t know, Kise. How can I be sure that you’re not lying to me again?” You said.

“I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again, but I can promise that I won’t lie. If I lie, I’ll buy you as many milkshakes as you want to throw at me— you can hold me to that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of his promise, putting a smile on Kise’s face as well. You took a moment to think about it before finally letting out a sigh, “Fine, I’ll give you another shot. But one lie and you’re buying me ten milkshakes to throw at you,” you warned.

Kise’s heart filled with glee. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him feel like this. He was so elated that he nearly started skipping down the pavement. “Oh my god thank you,” he said, pulling you into the tightest hug ever. “I’ll treat you right this time, Y/N-cchi.”

[lilosaur]

hi hi! okay so, i really like your work and i find them very fluffy and adorable— so! can i request a scenario (chifuyu, kawata twins, baji and mitsuya) where s/o comes out as non-binary and the boys are extremely supportive about it? again, i really love your work!

Aha thank youu! Yess! I hope u enjoy reading, this was fun to write. Also this was with 5 people but my limit is 4 so be sure to read rules next time (I just did one twin) :)

♡‧₊˚ Coming Out As Non-binary :*₊‧✩

⟶ ticket no. 12 ɞ

w/ Matsuno Chifuyu | Kawata Nahoya | Baji Keisuke | Mitsuya Takashi

ʚ Matsuno Chifuyu ɞ

You and Chifuyu were on a little coffee shop date, you had stayed up all night debating weather you should tell Chifuyu about you being non-binary. Once you successfully decided with yourself that your non-binary you wanted to keep it secret for a while but now it’s time to let it out. You were so nervous “what if” thoughts started to wander in your head. Would Chifuyu still view you the same? Would he start to test you differently? Maybe he’d just dump you on the spot and leave you in tears. No no you couldn’t think like that right?

So many doubts clogging your mind you only have one idea left, you had to blurt it out in one shot just break the ice and say it.

“Fuyu..I have something to tell you.”

Chifuyu's facial expression changed a bit he was now intrigued at what you had to say. His own mind starting doubting him too, we’re you going to break up with him right here and now? Did you not love him anymore? Both of you looked at each other worried about what you would both say.

“Fuyu I just wanted to let you know that I’m non-binary”

Chifuyu looked at you and his face was so much more calm now. You really scared him for a moment, honestly he didn’t realize what you said until a few seconds later after calming himself down.

“Oh, so wait does that mean your not a male or female right?”

“Yeah so..”

You continued to help educate Chifuyu on what exactly non-binary meant and which pronouns you’d prefer him to address you by. He's just an uneducated baby but he’ll understand as you explain more things to him.

When you feel insecure about it Chifuyu makes sure to step in and make you feel loved, sometimes he buys you a gift, someone’s he gives you extra cuddles or extra kisses. Once fuyu even bought you a little non-binary flag! He 110% supports you and wants to learn more about it, he doesn’t even view you any differently your still the same sweet Angel he fell in love with.

༚༅༚˳❃˳༚༅༚

ʚ Kawata Nahoya ɞ

You and Nahoya were watching movies and cuddling on a Saturday night, you’d debated ever even telling Nahoya about you being non-binary. You felt like he wouldn’t really understand or just be unsupportive of you. However you came to the conclusion that you have to tell him about it at some point.

“Uh Nahoya…can I tell you something..” You asked silently he could barely hear you.

“What’s wrong y/n?”

“Um…Nahoya I just wanted to let you know…but um I’m non-binary.” You mumbled it kind of whispering too he really just could barely hear you.

“Oh y/n wait I heard that before, what does it mean again?” He looked at you in confusion hoping you’d answer his question.

You took a little sigh of relief as you explain to him what non-binary means and how he could help support you and make you feel more comfortable. He was nodding his head along the whole time but you could tell he was definitely invested. The best part was he never once dropped his smile, which means he doesn’t view you any differently!

Nahoya still needs some practice as he may address you wrong but he’s still in his early learning stages of it all, he’ll always correct himself. Once you told him Nahoya gave you a nice cuddly hug and a kiss on the forehead, he told you he’ll love you no matter what because your still you!

༚༅༚˳❃˳༚༅༚

ʚ Baji Keisuke ɞ

You thought Baji might actually have a normal reaction, but when you called him to hangout and said you have to told him something your thoughts completely changed when you were in person about to tell him. You two were walking around town he was waiting to hear what you had to say, tbh your kinda scaring him..

You decided to just spit it out, no more holding back on him he has a right to know, right? You tried to calm yourself and mentally prepare yourself for all the outcomes of this situation but it’s barely working…

“Um so, Baji…we’ll I’m non-binary.” You almost mumbled it, your hands clung to your shirt messing around with your nails as nervousness began to break into your mind with his silence.

“Oh. Okay, what should I do to help support you y/n.”

Baji grew such a light and warm smile on his face now, giving you a look that seemed to be saying ‘don’t worry’

You explain to Baji what non-binary meant/is and he’s trying his best to understand and remember it all. Honestly he really doesn’t bring it up much he uses your preferred pronouns/name and always makes sure to tell other people your correct pronouns if they address you wrong. (With ur permission ofc.)

Baji's love for you will never change, your such a sweet person to him and you have a very special place in his heart. how cute

༚༅༚˳❃˳༚༅༚

ʚ Mitsuya Takashi ɞ

Mitsuya always showed how much he loved you, weather it was through gifts, actions, or words you always knew. So why were you in doubt of Mitsuya? Would he really just stop loving you? Ever since you made the final decision that you are indeed non-binary you’ve been terrified to tell anyone. At some point he’d need to know though, it’s scary even when you see him it feels like a big secret. You two already had plans to hang out tonight at his house, but was this good timing?

It was already too late to think about it, you found you and Mitsuya sitting on his bed just talking about your lives and what’s been going on. It hit your mind again, is this good timing? He literally just asked if anything new is going on in your life, how do you tell him though? Beat it around the bush or straight forward?

“Um y/n is something wrong.” I guess you were quiet for too long and zoned out a bit, his voice was so soft and gentle. Yes now is good timing.

“Um Mitsuya..I have something to tell you and it’s kind of big.” Mitsuya grew a worried expression once you said it was a big thing, so many possibilities filled his mind. Your both stressed out now.

“Mitsuya I’m non-binary.” As that sentence left your mouth you started to hold your breath, hoping, praying, wishing everything would still be the same without any change.

“Y/n! I’m so happy for you, that’s great!” He said with a smile on his face. You let yourself breathe now, he was okay with it? So bizarre but not really..

“Y/n I hope you know this won’t change anything though, your still the y/n I fell in love with.” His words broke through all the bad thoughts and endings you started to think of, Mitsuya really did accept you.

In fact Mitsuya has been questioning himself too, he’s been studying all kinds of pronouns, sexualities, and overall what he wants his identity to be. So he understand and you two will work with each other to help you guys find your true selves!

beep boop, aha I procrastinated this a lot bc of schoolwork so sorry for not posting for two days 😅 Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed this one! Remember you're all valid, don’t let anyone get you down your so special in this world no matter what you identify as or who you love. 🤎

[awanderingdeal]

Hi! Im happy your requests are open again! Do you think you can write kasey and alex kissing for the first time maybe back when they played together? Maybe make it a little spicy? Please and thank youu🤍

Thanks for the prompt! This was fun to write. It isn't really spicy. Like maybe, a bit of cracked black pepper level of spice? Some heated kissing. I hope you enjoy!

Rating: T+

Content warnings: heavy kissing, alcohol and drunkenness (no kissing under the influence, but drunk person does ask and is rejected), mention of healed injury.

Please let me know if you think I missed any content warnings.

Credit for sweater weather universe, Alex and Kasey goes to @lumosinlove

"Look who got his medical note signed off and is available to play the next game!" Alex crashed into the locker room, waving the yellow note that every player that had ever been injured knew the relief of receiving. He grinned at the loud cheer that erupted from his teammates, ducking away from the hands that tried to ruffle his perfectly coiffed hair.

"Nice one, Hazard. Can't wait to have you back," Foley patted him enthusiastically on the back. "Come on then, you know the drill by now."

He'd learned of many traditions during the last season and a half he'd been on the team, this was one of his favourites. Players returning from injury would get a kiss, mostly on the cheek, from their team. He'd never really questioned why exactly they did it, having learned early on that hockey players superstitions rarely had any logic to them.

"Stick one on here then, Cap," Alex laughed, tapping his finger against his cheek. He'd barely moved the digit before Foley had grasped his shoulders and pressed his lips against his cheek.

"Okay then, who's next gentlemen?" Foley rallied the team. Alex received kiss after kiss after kiss, short messages of congratulations after each one. It was always nice to be part of a team, but these moments felt extra special.

"Welcome back, Al," Kasey smiled softly at him. Over the last few months, Alex had noticed he seemed to receive a disproportionate amount of the rare smiles Kasey gave out. Their closeness made sense though, they lived together.

"Thanks Kase." Alex leaned forward to accept his kiss, his head tilted slightly to offer his cheek.

"O'Hara! My office, please." Their coach'' voice always managed to cut through the chaos of the room, never unfriendly, but firm enough to corral the rowdy team. On reflex, Alex turned towards the source of the call, his mouth somehow meeting Kasey's.

Oh, those lips were soft.

"Sorry," Kasey jumped back, panic written all over his face. Alex wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It wasn't all that uncommon for players to smack a kiss to one another's lips during a celebration, so the obvious distress was confusing. He wondered if it had something to do with the fact that whilst Alex had never publicly said anything about his sexuality, it was no secret to the team that he wasn't straight. Kasey had never mentioned anything about it before though. Alex really hoped this wasn't going to be a problem between them.

"Don't worry about it, I know I'm a catch," Alex tried for a joke, but he could hear the strain in the words. The silence that fell between them felt heavy. Alex coughed, hoping the noise would help reset the mood. "Well, I better -" he gestured in the direction of the small office attached to the locker room.

Kasey nodded, his eyes tracking towards the office too, and then looking back at Alex. He bit his lip, opening his mouth and then quickly closing it again. "Yeah, you go. Like I said, Welcome back, Alex."

The chat with Coach Hooch was quick, but by the time Alex had made it back out into the locker room, Kasey had disappeared.

***

Kasey sat back up as soon as Alex had wrestled him onto his bed, the stench of whiskey seeping from his pores. He made no move to brush the hair that fell into eyes away, so Alex did it for him.

"It's okay, I've set your alarm. There's nothing to worry about. Go to sleep," Alex soothed, trying to get Kasey to lie back down.

Alex rubbed at his eyes, slightly tipsy himself, and very tired. He already knew the next morning's practise was going to be a long one.

"I have my own bed right next door."

"You're tired," Kasey patted the bed next to him. "You should lie down."

Alex had always thought those lines in movies or books about time stilling were stupid over exaggerations, until then. Kasey's fingers were red hot against his lips and Alex really really wanted to say yes.

Kasey huffed. Before Alex could react, Kasey's fingers were brushing against his lips. "Could I kiss you? I liked it earlier."

He gulped, grasping Kasey's hand and giving it a small squeeze before he stepped away. "You, Sir, are drunk. You need to sleep." Alex allowed himself a last glance, finding Kasey already asleep, before shoving the last ten minutes to the back of his mind.

***

"Morning, there's coffee in the pot if you want it," Alex greeted Kasey far more chirpily than his exhaustion warranted. He had never really settled into sleep, the feel of Kasey's hair brushing against his skin replaying over and over in his mind. And those cheek bones. Those stupidly perfect cheekbones.

"Thanks." The word came out as a grunt, but that wasn't unusual for him. Alex knew Kasey would never get up before midday if he could swing it.

"How's the head?"

"Fine. Just tired."

"It's not fair you know. You being graced with good looks and the ability to drink yourself silly without any consequences." The sentence had left Alex's mouth before he really thought about it. It was just a playful quip, but he didn't know if Kasey was going to be bothered about the previous night. Did he even remember?

"I meant it," Kasey set his mug down on the counter, coffee spilling over the sides. "Last night, I meant it."

Alex blinked, his brain taking a few seconds to catch up with Kasey's words. "What?" Okay, maybe it hadn't quite caught up.

"Look, I get if you want to forget about it, but I have to say it otherwise we're just going to be doing this stupid dance for the next God knows how long. I liked it when you kissed me. I want to do it again. Preferably a lot."

Alex raised an eyebrow at the monologue, a slow smirk spreading over his face. "Are you finished?"

Kasey crossed his arms across his chest, his face taking on a steely expression. "Yes."

Alex pushed back out his chair, the sound of it scraping across the floor obnoxious in the quiet. "Well, first of all, you kissed me." He saw Kasey's jaw twitch, holding back whatever comment he wanted to make. "And second, yes, you may kiss me again." He stopped just out of Kasey's reach, holding his gaze, the brown of his eyes just a touch lighter than his own.

Kasey pushed off the counter, a small part of Alex thinking he was going to walk away. Then, his cheek was being cradled in Kasey's hand. He couldn't help but note how big is was, how safe Alex felt with it there. "We're going to have to talk about this properly later."

"Yeah," Alex nodded, his eyes flicking to the neon time displayed on the microwave. "However, we have 6 minutes until we need to leave. Kiss now, talk later?"

"Kiss now, talk later," Kasey agreed, leaning forward. He hesitated just before their lips connected, presumably to allow Alex to back out, but he remained steadfast. Kasey's lips were as soft as Alex remembered, insistent yet yielding. Alex's hands found Kasey's hips, pulling them closer together, their breaths coming in desperate gasps in the small gap between them. At some point Alex was going to berate himself for not doing this sooner, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy it.

[shinsoussimp]

hi there I had an idea that I thought youd do so well... suga x male reader who smokes and suga kinda just accepts it but doesnt like that it's bad for him then suga asks why he does it and its readers way of kinda s*lf h*rming and suga's all soft and maybe some fluff or something idk,, I'm tryna quit smoking because I did use it as a way of hurting myself and this would be really appreciated thanks youu ❤

a/n: sorry this took such a long time to get out :( i hope your journey of quitting goes well, anon! and i hope you like this :))

TW: smoking, s*lf h*rm (<- words used without censor)

Sugawara with a boyfriend who smokes

even before you two started dating, sugawara knew that you smoked. sometimes you would step out of whatever room you were in and come back a little later with a faint cigarette smell. and once you guys did start dating, he was generally okay with this. he did often talk about how bad it was for you but he never really forced you to quit or anything.

“your lungs are gonna turn black you know.” he says from the kitchen when he hears you come back inside from the balcony of your apartment. you roll your eyes playfully and sit down at the bar in front of him. he would say things like this often, but he never really understood why you smoked. he never asked. he didn’t know that maybe hurting your body was the the reason for all of it. what he also didn’t realize was how bad it was getting. 

he thought smoking was more of a casual thing for you. up until he went to visit you at your job. he had a plan to suprise you and pick you up once you got off to  take you on a fun date. he waited and waited for you to walk out of the doors of the building but you never did. he suddenly heard soft sobbing coming from the alley next to your work. he slowly walked over to see what was wrong, only to be met with you, sitting on the ground with your back against the wall and your knees pulled into your chest, with tears streaming down your face.

“y/n?!” he ran over and squatted down next to you. you tried your best to wipe your face off with the back of your hand, a cigarette still in between your fingers. 

“w-what are you doing here?” you trying to look as composed as possible. he’s frantically scanning you to make sure you weren’t injured or anything. that’s when he noticed four cigarette butts on the ground next to you.

“how long have you been sitting out here?” 

“i dunno maybe an hour..” you mumble, without understanding why he was asking. suddenly he scoffs and sits back on his heels.

“five cigarettes in one hour? seriously, y/n?” he takes a deep breath when he realizes he probably just came off way more harsh and judgemental then he wanted, but he’s worried about you. you hug your knees tighter in shame as you take another hit from the one in your hand. he leans forward a bit closer to you and grabs your wrist softly and pulls it away from your mouth.

“why are you doing this to yourself?” he whispers. he brings his fingers under your chin and lifts your face a bit so you can look at him, “you’re hurting your body, i can’t just stand by and watch it happen-”

“maybe that’s the point!” you snap, causing him to jump. tears start streaming down your face again when you see the worry in his eyes.

“like... like self harm? you’re trying to hurt yourself?” he’s whispering again, carefully examining your face and your reactions. 

“i deserve it...” you shake your head and attempt to take another hit but suga takes the cigarette and puts it out on the ground. he immediately presses his lips to yours while wiping any tears from your face. he pulls you into his arms, not even caring about the awkward sitting position he is in.

“no. you don’t. think about all of the people that care about you. think about how much i care about you.” he cups your face with his hands and shakes his head with a soft smile on his face, “and what about all that your body does for you? it keeps you alive, it lets you taste delicious foods, see beautiful sites, and most of all it lets you feel all of my love and cuddles.” you chuckle a bit causing him to smile even brighter.

“please, please take care of your body.. i understand that quitting is going to be a long hard road, but i’ll be there the entire time. i love you way too much to let this continue. we can work on different ways to cope, and i’m always here to talk. can you promise to try?” you sigh and after a few moments you nod. he pecks your lips again and stands up, reaching his hand out to help you up.

“you never answered my question by the way...” you tease, “what are you doing here?” he bounces happily while almost dragging you to his car.

“i’m here... to take you on a date!”

[sneezefiction]

embrace

Tsukishima x Reader - Scenario 

@belli-jelly’s event request: “#7 with Tsukki ❤️ thank youu!”

a/n: “embrace” with Tsukishima is such a soft idea. he just needs a hug and to feel loved n supported n stuff, ya know? i hope u enjoy!! <333

warnings: slight language, angst (but barely?)

wc: 1990

---

Tsukishima makes his ways through the apartment door, kicking off his shoes a little more forcefully than usual. The thunk of the soles on the tile embodies whatever vexation he’d been simmering in for the duration of the day. A weak, frustration-fueled sigh exits his body.

From the kitchen, you can already tell that something is off. He hasn’t called out to you with his usual, “Hey stupid, I’m home.” You hadn’t even received his typical text telling you he was leaving the gym. The tense silence seeps into the airspace as he makes his way toward you, Tsukki’s feet dragging with every step.

As he turns corner, you’re greeted by features taut with fatigue. It’s as though he’d been running on empty all day, barely making it home with only fumes of energy leftover.

Tsukki’s eyes were undoubtedly strained. The white, intense light of the gym combined with deep concentration kept him on high-alert with eyes wide open at all times.

His shoulders maintained a somewhat slumped position, losing an inch or two of height in the process. The mental weight of handling everything on his own had finally reached him physically.

This hadn’t been a good day, per se.

And if Tsukki had the energy to speak, he would probably tell you how much he would rather be in a month-long coma than experience that level of misery again.

But the hushed air remains and a bizarre staring contest takes place between you two instead of passing words. It’s hard to speak when you know that, deep down, words could never do his terrible days any justice. That even a thoughtful sentence or a well-intended comment would simply drown under Tsukki’s sea of thought, never resurfacing or coming up for air to be heard or understood.

He’s too exhausted to process even the shortest of loving dialogues. And you can tell.

So you sift through other possibilities.

Ways to calm him. To remind him that you care and want to look after him.

Should you make him dinner? He’s probably already eaten. Watch a movie together? No, the light would bother his tired eyes even more. Just go to bed? He would only continue to stir through his disappointments and be kept up by the throbbing of soreness in his legs.

As your eyes trickle down the length of his body, which is now leaning on the countertop as he takes a long sip out of his water bottle, you come to one final alternative…

But it’s always a bit of a gamble. A slight risk.

To touch or not to touch.

Would he lean into it like a self-satisfied, curious cat, tilting his lean body into your affectionate antics? Or would his brittle, biting character and miserable mood cause himself to crumble and fall away from the warmth and comfort of your smaller arms?

On one hand, you might experience your beloved Tsukishima’s gentler side. The one that held you as though he were a mama bird wrapping her wide-spanned wings around your precious form. Instinctively protective. A second-natured response to the way you circled your arms around his torso, tugging him into your field, requesting closeness and vulnerability. It could potentially get his mind off of the day and focus him on the here and now.

But on the other hand, Tsukki had a track record of off days. Jumping away from the soft glide of the pads of your fingertips. On those days, your embrace seemed to resemble that of a thorny, roseless bush to the wavy-haired blonde. The chance of him tugging away, leaving you drained and drooping, was higher than you had ever wanted to bet on. The possibility of him ending up at the opposite side of the bed seemed to increase after experiences like these.

And to be honest, you could never be sure if the touch-deterring wall he built up was to protect himself or you. Yet you always try to find ways to chip away at his salty, skeptical barrier without overstepping any fragile, unspoken boundaries.

It’s a simple concept. However, avoiding his sensitivities is an endless dance and is much harder than it may look. Especially at the end of a long day of pro-league practice, where sweat, sulking, and inferiority complexes don’t usually mix well.

But this was the only viable option left, so you get over your own worries and approach Tsukishima’s weary form. You stop just a few inches before him, his eyes dropping to meet yours. He was even more beaten down up close. The defeated expression he carried in tandem with his worn-out demeanor made you physically ache for him. 

“Tsukki… you’re not lookin’ too hot right now.” You let out a breathy laugh, slowly lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to brush a hand through his messy hair, testing the waters.

He doesn’t flinch away from your movements, so you sink back down onto the soles of your feet, letting your hand run down the side of his face.

“No shit, Sherlock. I don’t exactly feel great either.” He shoots back, but there’s a somber, troubled tinge.

Tsukki inches toward you, looking away as he tilts the side of his head into the palm of your hand. Your fingers cup his cheek.

Everyone knew how Tsukki acted when he was annoyed or angry. Snappy, sarcastic comments would be strewn in an almost poetic manner, kindly crushing those under his scrutiny. Many had seen Tsukishima after a merciless game, beaten and worn out. He would still have a muted fire behind his efforts and would carry himself with dignity, even if he didn’t feel confidence rise inside of him.

But gloominess? It doesn’t suit him. Not now, not ever.

And currently, he’s emanating a dreary, depressing sadness, like being caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella to shield you. It’s helpless and uncontrollable. Utterly humiliating.

You can practically feel the strain of the day radiating off of him. Tsukki had a tendency to wither slowly and cautiously. Not allowing anyone to watch as his snarky comments fizzled out and his sharp gaze gradually dull. By the look in his golden eyes, it was obvious that something in him had already snapped like an old tree branch. Battered and bruised by storm after brutal summer storm, finally shattering under the repetitive pressures of failure and imposter syndrome.

In the past, he had let apathy take over in order to not burden you. Withholding affection, thinking it would keep you safe from his sinking atmosphere when in reality he wished to drink in your tenderness. To fall under your grasp, sinking his head under your chin and lay across your chest.

But maybe it was all too much.

Too much to hold in. To carry alone.

“Kei…” At the use of his first name, he physically softens. Drawing his arms around your middle and clasping his hands behind your back, he gently rests his chin on your head.

“You can always lean on me.” You whisper into the fabric of his shirt.

Your words carry a deeper semblance. That you really are here for him. Physically, mentally, and emotionally ready to lift him up.

You picked a good time for physical touch because he only pulls you in tighter.

He’s pretty warm and smells like sweat mixed with deodorant and his cedar-scented shampoo. You grasp the cloth and squeeze him into you, making sure to keep him steady and balanced. His breathing falls into a gentle rhythm, almost as though he were falling asleep standing up.

“If you weren’t so lanky I would pick you up, but you’re a damn tree.” You sigh, poking fun at him.

The touches were cathartic. Healing. Authentic. Your lighthearted comments kept things comfortable, hindering him from drawing away due to feelings of unworthiness or self-consciousness.

“Wow, okay, bold words for someone who can hardly seem to pick up a bag of flour. You couldn’t hold me even if you were my height.” He snickers, tension releasing and adrenaline wearing off from the high-energy day.

You shift to look up at Tsukki, your chin gently pressing into his chest. He’s already staring down at you. You can’t help that a blush works its way up your neck and onto your cheeks, the warmth from his unusual touch sending you unwarranted fuzzy feelings. As much as you wished this embrace could be all for Tsukki, you’d wanted to hug him with all your might for a while now.

“Y/n… Honest question, so don’t laugh at me. Why are you doing this?” Tsukishima breaks eye contact, arms shifting to lean your chest more on top of his as he sinks a little deeper onto the counter, his back supported by the ledge.

“What do you mean by ‘this’?” You inquire, eyes still fixed on him, searching his expression.

“I mean... You know when things are going to shit. You know when I need something. A back massage, a slap to the face, hell, even a coffee sometimes.” He snorts, trying not to take his own question too seriously.

You’re the one to sigh now. Doesn’t he know how these things work by now? That being in a relationship with him meant more than insulting the daylights out of each other and going out to dinner? Apparently even Tsukishima lacks a lot perspective when it comes to loving another human being.

“You’re stubborn as hell.” You state plainly, your face going blank.

“What?”

“You refuse to see that you need help too sometimes, babe. Hate to break it to ya, but I actually like listening to and hugging you.” You break into a small smile.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He rolls his eyes at your confusing sentence.

“Are you that dense?” You express with mock disdain at his response.

“Tsukki, I’m saying that you don’t burden me! That I want to be there for you even after shitty days like these! You’re an absolute dumbass!” You snicker and your smile reaches your eyes, crinkling and squinting as his meet yours.

Instead of saying anything, Tsukishima rests in place, dumbfounded.

It’s true, you always were there for him.

Cheering at every game. Cooking dinner for him when you knew he would get home way too late and practically starving. Letting him rant relentlessly about losses and seemingly endless practices.

So why was it that only after breaking down in every way possible, he would finally let you see his most vulnerable thoughts and fears. That he would allow you to witness his exhaustion only once it had reached its peak. That it took Tsukki completely collapsing to let you wrap you arms around him.

And you both guess that it’s because old habits die hard.

Tsukki would always be Tsukki. A little too cold and relentlessly set on drenching others in his never-ending supply of sarcasm. Reluctant to accept help until it was already showing through the bleeding cracks of his figure and laced within his pained speech.

Because for someone so good at putting up and breaking through blocks, Tsukishima needed help with the walls that he had built up under his skin over the years. He needed to see that he couldn’t always protect you from his fears, but that you would be there to help him fight them. Or at least hug them away when it all got too much.

And as he presses a gentle kiss onto your forehead, you know it will be okay. Because embraces like these are what chip away at walls of fear. It’s the first step and you can already feel the tension crumble away, allowing warmth to surround the two of you. 

So you begin to remind him more and more that you like hugs. And he lets you hold him far more often, slowly but surely letting you deeper into his mind and into his arms. A much needed and highly welcomed addition to your everyday life.

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)