#why won’t he die 😭

[buffy-targaryen]

Say what you like about J*** W***** but he left the end of Buffy wide open for a really good spin off featuring brand new slayers and watchers etc etc etc. So why is there a goddamn au with every character except Buffy coming out instead 😒

[mediumgayitalian]

y’all i cannot stop fucking thinking about it. will with his big blue eyes, youngest of them all, completely musically untalented and rhythmically challenged but by the gods does he understand the human body. following lee around holding his quiver and rattling off whatever he just learned from watching michael in the infirmary. doted on by his big siblings. talking for hours about a galaxy far far away with heroes who choose to save the world, aren’t forced to, hey, they’re heroes, just like you, lee! and his siblings have dreams, they know the prophecies, they look at their little brother and they know he will be alone. they don’t know why or how yet but they can feel in their very soul that he will be out in the stupid world with all its hatred and violence and he will have to defend himself. and he can’t shoot straight and he cries when he hurts someone in training, and all he wants to do is help, and he doesn’t understand that people can be cruel and they will take his kindness and bleed him dry. and a war is coming. they can feel it. do you think they would be desperate? for themselves as much as will? i don’t know how long i will live. i don’t know how long i have left. but you will be there, son of phoebus. i know you will. remember me, okay? remember how i loved you. remember how we loved each other, remember how we healed and fought and cared. please. please, will, remember us. and remember how we loved you.

[thunderpoolisawesome]

I’m in love. I’m in love guys.

WHY DID THEY FUCKING DO THAT. ERIK NOOOOO

[oshiawaseni]

It ever just hit you how Katsuki spent most of his life cursing his rotten bond with Izuku that he couldn’t get rid of, until he was hit by the realisation he actually loves and needs Izuku so much that he would feel like he died himself if Izuku ever were to leave him

and then during a time when Izuku left him, Katsuki really did freaking die…?

The symbolism?? Like talk about a bond with love so strong, that person literally holds your life in their hands and you would willingly give it up for them a countless times over, without question.

Even though Katsuki was forced to endure so much suffering all on his own because of what he means to Izuku, he could choose only him in his final moments.

When one stares into death, often they will expose the true shape of their heart. For Katsuki that’s Izuku. It’s always been Izuku. In his search for comfort, he could see and feel no one else. Thinking of him, talking to him, longing to be by his side again… wanting for nothing other than to be the hero Izuku believes in and loves… right ‘til the very end.

Katsuki knew Izuku’s love was why he had been horrifically beaten down first and that he was going to die, but he held it so closely and dear to him, as if it were the most precious treasure.

Like it was the only thing that mattered.

[thatone-churro]

so this is the collective fandom takeaway from chapter two, i take it?

[emeraldbabygirl]

DISCOUNT CHENLE DOESNT DIE ITS FUCKING THE MAIN CHARACTER ASSHOLE GOT HE GET MERKED BY THE PSYCHO AND IDK HOW I FEEL ABOUT IT CAUSE HE WAS AN ASS BUT HE LIKED THE WEIRD GIRL 😭😭😭😭

[pellucid-constellations]

A Promise

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: As war inches closer on the horizon, Azriel reminds you of a promise you made to him—one you aren't sure you can keep.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Angst <3

a/n: Hi I haven't written in a few WEEKS (sorry) 😭 Here's this to get me back in the swing of things

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“Promise me you’ll run,” Azriel pleaded, his forehead resting against yours. “Anything happens up here and you flee. Promise me.” 

You fought the instinctual shake of your head, always so quick to reassure him—to tell him that nothing would happen. But you couldn’t promise that. Not with a war raging in the distance and you within its throes. 

“I can’t run,” you whispered. “I have an obligation, a duty. I can’t.” 

Azriel’s breath came out as a sharp exhale, the warm air brushing your jaw as he turned his head to your temple. His hands fought for the purchase of your waist, pulling you close until your bodies melded. 

He stayed silent, but you could feel the turmoil heaving down the bond in heavy ropes. Someone called for buckets of water on the opposite side of the camp. Azriel remained pressed against you, eyes screwed shut and brows furrowed. 

“I’m sorry, Azriel.” 

You had told him you wouldn’t be part of this war. But it came on suddenly, unexpectedly, and you couldn’t refuse the High Lord’s request. Your gift was too valuable to stay locked up in Velaris when Autumn and Spring were rebelling against the masses. How could you not aid your mate in this fight?

“We haven’t had enough time,” Azriel croaked.

Something within you fractured and you turned to meet his gaze—to coax his eyes open and capture the full picture of his features. “We will have so much more time, my love. This won’t go the way that you think.”

But you had no gift of clairvoyance, and you’d never fought in a war before. With your hands pressed to Azriel’s cheeks and your head tilted to catch his eyes, you wondered what could have happened in the wars he had fought to cause him so much strife. 

You counted his family members in your head—all alive, none lost to war. 

Nothing to match the tortured expression staring back at you. 

“Me first,” he spoke, so low it was almost lost in the bustle of the camp. “When we die. It’ll be me first.” 

Your brows came together with a sigh. “Azriel—” 

“No,” he countered. He brushed your hands from his face and backed you up until you were behind your tent, a tree meeting your shoulder blades. Azriel’s feet slotted between yours as he bent down. His eyes raced between yours. “I die first. You agreed to that.” 

“There’s no way I could really—” 

“You agreed.” 

You bit into your lip, ignoring the vice-like grip your mate had on the sleeve of your leathers.

You had agreed, but it had seemed like such a small request at the time—something so easy to give him. You had whispered your submission to his worried words if only to ease the distraught way he looked at you. 

Breaking a promise was not something you were keen to do, but thinking on it now—thinking about life without him—it was an unbearable ask. 

“Y/n,” Azriel stressed. Because the camp was getting rowdy and unsettled. It was almost time for him to depart.

Your lips remained sealed, any ease of your expression lost to harsh lines and sharp movements. You had promised. You had agreed. But what if this was a bargain you actually had to do good on? What if you were faced with death, with a choice, and you ran from it? What if that choice left you alone? 

You hadn’t had enough time together. Azriel’s truth bounced around in your head as the shadowsinger beseeched you with his eyes. Barely mated a year, this war had not been kind to your plans. Perhaps that was why you had been so ready to allow your mate to die before you. 

Because you hadn’t had enough time to consider just what that meant. 

“I can’t live without you,” you admitted as if it were a revelation and not a fact ingrained in your being. “I can’t live when you aren’t here.” Your gaze, which had been locked on Azriel’s shoulder—empty, pondering, lost—raced up in search of your mate’s. “I didn’t mean to promise that to you. I can’t… I can’t, Azriel.” 

Panic had begun to drown you. Breathing was difficult. Your hands began to shake. 

This was becoming too real, too much. A figurative imagining materializing in the form of wrinkled tents and pleading eyes. 

You could lose Azriel. 

This was a war, and it was gruesome and cruel and unfair. 

No one cared that you’d only had a year with your mate, and there was certainly no pity from the enemy that you’d never experienced this insurmountable fear. 

You lost the image of your mate to blurry vision and stinging eyes. You pressed harder into the tree at your back, running through the possibilities—all the ways you could lose. It was no longer about not running, but what would happen if you did. 

Azriel’s gentle hush fought for dominance over your labored breathing. His fingers abandoned their grip on your clothes and traced your face instead, brushing back your hair and swiping the tears that had unknowingly begun running down your jaw. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he comforted. “I didn’t mean to make you panic. My love, look at me. Please.” 

You gasped. “No, no, I can’t. You wouldn't be saying this if you thought—you think we won’t win. You think you’re going to leave me. That you’re going to—”

Another choking gasp. 

But you still met Azriel’s eye. 

No tears there—only a grief you couldn't fathom. “We h-haven’t had enough time,” you said, speaking it out into the world again. 

Azriel’s responding breath was achingly broken. It seemed to hurt his chest as it left him. “Oh, my love.” He kissed your forehead, his next words spoken into your hairline. “You forget what I said, alright? I won’t leave and neither will you. We will meet right back here.” 

“Right back here,” you agreed. 

And it was true that you made a promise—two, to be exact. But promises were often only placeholders for fear.

[twistyfish]

Can we get some comfort from the boys please? God especially after that last post with us being so insecure that hits me like a rock. MC’s selfish for having all of them I wanna be loved too 😭😭😭

(I love MC but jealousy is uncanny)

It doesn’t help that I read an angst no comfort a while ago and I still am not over it- help 😭

sure! i just wrote a double dose of angst so i hope this eases the pain. i don’t know why the hell sylus’s is so long, so don’t ask me.

prompt~ comfort.

content warning for brief mentions of death, periods, and detailed descriptions of blood.

𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴

Zayne

“Please don’t leave me,” you whispered into the cool fabric of his jacket, gripping the velvety material in your fists. You were sitting on his lap facing him, your legs swung around his hips and hugging his sides.

“I would perish at your side before leaving you,” Zayne whispered back. “No entity in or outside this world could rip me apart from you.”

“I don’t want to die alone.”

“You’re not going to- why would you say that?”

“Zayne, I’m scared of dying alone, please don’t ever leave me alone.” Your voice was panicky and you weren’t making much sense.

“You’re not going to die alone, honey. I won’t leave you alone,” he reassured you softly. “Where did this fear come from?”

“I just… I’ve been alone for a long time. I don’t want to feel that way again. I don’t want nobody to remember me.”

“Sweetheart. You aren’t alone. You have family and friends who love you so much. And I love you so, so much more than I can describe. I even think about you when you get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. How could I not remember you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

Zayne wrapped his arms around you, holding your head with one hand and rubbing your hair soothingly.

“You’re the love of my life. You keep me warm on chilly days. You nourish me. Please never think otherwise.”

𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖

Sylus

You were hunched over on the couch, curled up and gripping your knees. You were intensely nauseous, and it felt like a cat was clawing up all your insides. Your periods were notoriously brutal.

You were being extra cautious not to leak on Sylus’s leather couch, placing two towels beneath you and doubling them up. You flipped through channels on the TV miserably, pulling your fluffy blanket higher up around you.

It was all politics and sports. You shut off the TV and closed your eyes, trying to just marinate in the warmth of the blanket.

You were somewhat peaceful, until you realized the seat of your pants felt warmer than usual. Wide eyed, you scrambled up and checked the towels. The top one looked like the Japanese flag. You lifted it, and the bottom one mirrored it. Praying, you lifted the bottom towel.

The leather couch had a thick blotch of red on it, and you groaned aloud. You stood up and tossed the blanket to the side, ignoring the shooting pains in your back and stomach. Upon standing, you felt yourself leak down your leg. There was now a small red puddle on the floor that you were dripping into.

You seethed. Deciding against retrieving paper towels and potentially leaving a trail behind you, you took off your stained pajama pants and wiped the floor with them.

It wasn’t very effective, as you were bent over cleaning the blood and simultaneously dripping onto the floor at the same time. You were too embarrassed to call any of Sylus’s staff, so you ended up giving up and putting your pajama pants in a heap on the floor and sitting on top of them so you wouldn’t do any more damage.

You sat like that for a solid twenty minutes before Sylus came home. You heard his steps as he entered the room and turned your head, both dreading and being relieved at his arrival. His expression changed from suave to confused as he saw you on the floor sitting on your pants.

And then he saw the bloody towels and stain on the couch. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m so sorry,” you started.

“That’s a lot of blood. Are you okay?” His voice was soft and concerned.”

“Yeah, it’s just my period. Aren’t you mad about the couch?”

“Me? Mad about a couch? I can replace this a thousand times over. I’m more concerned-,” he bent down next to you, “-about the amount of blood coming out of you.”

You looked at him, both weary and confused. “I told you, it’s just my period. It’s pretty standard to bleed a lot.”

He shook his head. “Not that much. Get up.” You complied and stood up, revealing your pajamas which were soaked through by now. His scarlet eyes widened. “What the hell? That’s not normal.”

“It is normal. It happens every month.”

He shook his head, picking up your soiled pajamas and towels in one hand and wrapping his other hand around your bloody thighs. He hoisted you up like you were weightless, ignoring your protests.

“Sylus! I’m covered in blood, stop touching me!”

“You act as though I haven’t seen bodies doused in blood.”

“That’s different. This is blood from my literal va-“

“I’m plenty familiar with that orifice of yours, my love.”

“Oh my god.”

𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝

Rafayel

Your cheeks were flushed, and you were hacking up what felt like several lungs. After much harassing from Xavier, you had taken a sick day and were now taking the hottest shower of your life in an attempt to steam out all the muck in your throat.

You blew your nose one last time before exiting the shower, getting dressed with a heavy head. The air in the bathroom was hot and damp from your shower, and you felt like you were swimming as you walked to your bedroom. You ended up clumsily turning the fan on and collapsing on your bed.

And then the doorbell rang. Of course it did, because you and Rafayel had made plans for a movie night that you’d forgotten to cancel. You groaned into the mattress and forced yourself to get up. You answered the door with what must have still been a very pink face, because Rafayel immediately said, “You’re all red. Are you that nervous to see me?”

“I’m sick.”

He immediately pulled away and lifted his shirt over his mouth. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“I was busy being sick, genius.” You were too tired to banter. You sneezed, to which Rafayel made a face. “You need some TLC, Ms. Bodyguard. I’ll be happy to assist. From a distance, of course.”

You didn’t feel like arguing, so you allowed him to lead you inside and prepare you some stew and hot chocolate. It was surprisingly comforting, and Rafayel didn’t pretend to be disgusted when you coughed up mucus. He rubbed your back while you coughed and attacked you with kisses when you sat quietly with a throbbing head.

Even when you pushed him away, reminding him that he would likely get sick from all his close contact, he waved away your worries.

“I need you to recover as quickly as possible so you can protect me. When I’m sick, you can just pay me back.”

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Xavier

You fell out of a tree. That was the short version of it. You and Xavier were having a climbing contest, and the branch you’d been holding onto wasn’t very stable. Well, the branch itself was stable, but the bark you were gripping wasn’t. It ripped off in your hands and took you with it.

You let out a squeaky noise when you hit the ground, almost like a dog toy. You would have laughed at yourself if you weren’t in so much pain.

“__! Shit, shit, shit!” Xavier was down the tree in an instant, like a rodent that spotted a snake. He sprinted to your side and hovered over you frantically while you laid on your back and tried to regain your breath. He ended up refraining from calling an ambulance because you had enough life in you to beg him not to. So, he drove you to urgent care instead.

Thankfully you weren’t hurt too badly, but you did end up with a bruised tailbone and a fractured rib, so now you were in the middle of the healing process with Xavier asking you questions every twenty minutes or so.

He’d ask, “Are you in pain?” to which you’d respond, “Yes.” And then he’d ask “Where?” And you’d angrily say “My butt.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay, it was my fault.”

“But climbing the trees was my idea.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Do you need a butt massage?”

“No, idiot.”

Xavier was very apologetic for the next couple of weeks, sleeping over at your house every other day and bringing you burnt baked goods to tide you over. He took care of you in his own sweet way.

[hypnos333]

Okay this is the very first time I’ve sent in a request and it might sound strange so I’m so sorry if it does 😭😭😭 but- Alastor x a reader who was apart of the extermination after she passed away (I.e she joined the extermination angels) and she has been like injured or badly hurt by Alastor himself. And it wasent until she took her mask off that Alastor realised who she was type thing??

CARMINE

Alastor x Ex-Fiancé Reader

Synopsis: Alastor purposed for you before he made a big mistake with you dying now he won’t make that mistake again

“Aye Sweet gold, you got that Radio bitch right?” Adam yelled out from battle making you nod before head towards the demon using your box and arrow to hit different demons.

You shoot your arrows at Alastor making his smile tighten before he slammed his staff down the ground as tentacles came flying towards you but you used your angelic dagger to slice through them. Until a tentacle hit you from behind making you slam down the ground. Through your mask you struggled to breathe.

Alastor came up to you holding his staff down your neck making you choke up, his smile brightened as he hold it even more deeper down your neck as you gasp for air. You finally had enough before taking off your mask to get more air if possible.

Alastor gasp in shock, eyes wide at you as he immediately dropped his staff, you weren’t paying attention to his reaction as you were gasping for air.

“___? My dear? My love?” Alastor stuttered between nicknames

“Alastor dinner is ready!” You yelled out to the basement but all you heard this time was silence usually he would yell something back. You couldn’t recall him saying he was heading out so maybe he fell asleep in the basement?

You hesitatingly went down the steps to the basement, the stairs creak by your slow pace. “Beloved are you down here?” You asked but yet again hearing no response.

You peaked behind the wall seeing a guy tied up bloody full of carmine blood. You gasp ready to scream before a hand came and held you against your mouth making scream but came out muffled. You looked up to see Alastor hush you before plunging a knife into your stomach.

“I would’ve been so much better without you knowing my dear” He said making tears roll down your face as you die in his arms without you knowing thought his very own tears was running down his face as he hold your body close

As you got air in your system you finally looked up to the person you been trying to avoid. “Hello Alastor I hope everything been well for you” You mumbled avoid his eyes.

“I-I’ve been looking for you for years, My dear” He stuttered out making you look at him questionably.

“Why would you do that when you’re the one who killed me and led me to my death?” You asked making him look down in shame. As he was about the explain everything to you.

Lute called all Angels to retreat making you fly but before you can get anywhere, Alastor panicked and did the unthinkable he quickly cut your wings making you cry out in pain before falling down on the ground. The same carmine that led you to your death is now replacing your use to be wings now cloaking your back.

“Like I said my dear, I’ve been looking for you for years and Im not gonna let you go again” He said as he carried you towards his Radio tower where he will keep you until you behave for him like a little Fiancé you were back then.

[biolumien]

Hi!! Your rooftop smoke fic with Hoshina was just superb. 😭💖

Was wondering If could request a scenario where they had been mutually pining for one another. And they'd, on more than one occasion catch each other's eyes across the room. And a handful of people from the Defense Force notices. Cause could they be more obvious?

Whether that would end up angsty or with a happy ending is up to you! I love the way you write for Hoshina. You capture him pretty perfectly haha

Stay safe and healthy!!

notes: omg... thank you for your compliments... it means smsm! uhh... well. this kinda took on a life of its own, i'm sorry. i hope you don't mind ;-;;

say it! come on, say it!

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader alternatively: romcom except then i smacked it so hard with angst at the end. sorry. word count: 2400

“you need to close your mouth when you’re staring.” you feel the ice-cold touch of a can press against your cheek, and you shriek as you stare up at–

“ah, fuck. i’m not staring, narumi,” you mutter, taking the soda can from him. narumi seemed less than convinced, his eyes barely visible from underneath his bangs. 

“o-kay. and you’re totally not ogling hoshina with googly eyes.” narumi cracks open his own soda, taking a long sip from the can. “why don’t you just date already? i’m gonna be honest, i’m sick of you looking at him like that. it’s boring, bland, predictable… fuckin’ hate that will they won’t they bullshit.” 

“i can’t,” you complain dramatically. 

hoshina, from the other side of the room, was talking to captain ashiro while examining some paperwork. occasionally, okonogi would come over, point out some new development, and there’d seem to be another heated debate between the three. you always liked seeing hoshina in his element—whether it be instructing other officers, training with his blades, or awkwardly not making eye contact with him when he spoke to you. 

“like hell you can’t!” narumi hissed, reaching out to put you in a headlock. “stop looking at him like that!” 

“like hell what? who’s looking at who?” 

hoshina had come over, staring at the two of you, right as narumi’s arm was beginning to wrap around your neck. narumi immediately flew back from you as you laughed nervously. 

“uhh, like hell i, umm…” you fumbled for an answer, staring up at hoshina nervously. why had he just come over? why was he looking at you like that? your lips quiver for a moment.

“oh, relax!” hoshina clapped you across the back, laughing. “you look so nervous! like you’ve just confessed you had some very, very personal feelings or something! that’s adorable…” 

let me die, you think furtively as hoshina’s hand brushes your shoulder. narumi’s face was pinched. 

“don’t let narumi bully you too much; he’s just a little lowlife, after all,” hoshina said with teasing venom in his voice. 

“you bitch,” narumi growled. “i have no idea how they see anything in y—” his face paled as the words left his lips, and you think you almost see god for a minute. you hide your face with your hands, waiting for hoshina’s verdict, and you swear that the next moment you get, you were going to make narumi very sorry for spilling your metaphorical, hell, call them literal at this point, guts out in the open. 

“hmm?” hoshina hums. the world fell silent—at least silent to you, in any case, your eardrums pounding in time with your heartbeat. “well—”

“vice captain hoshina!” mina ashiro’s voice was sharp and piercing. “time to go.” 

“huh?” hoshina cocks his head. “ah, of course, captain. be right there!” 

he turned to you and narumi with a small smile, one of his fangs peeking out for a moment before waving his fingers. 

“see you.” he nods his head to you specifically before he turns away. 

you wait until you are absolutely, absolutely sure he’s out of earshot before turning on narumi, throwing your soda can at his head. 

“fuck!” narumi swore. “what the fuck was that for?” 

“you idiot! why did you basically confess to him for me?!” you hiss. “i’m trying to count on you to not run your damn mouth!” 

“hoshina’s an idiot,” narumi says sullenly. “i bet he didn’t even notice.” 

[…]

the walk through the hallway was silent, up until—

“you’re red,” mina says, her hand reaching for her skirt pocket to pull out her phone. 

“stop,” hoshina’s voice is strangled, far more strangled than he’d like it to be. “no, i’m serious. no photos. you’ll need to talk to my PR agent about that.” hoshina’s ears were tinged pink, and he raised his hands to try and hide the flush. 

“hoshina,” okonogi sounded disapproving, “why don’t you just confess already? i’m getting tired watching you get so concerned over them…” 

“ha! confess,” hoshina laughs. “and what good would that do? i’m not exactly peak romance material, you know this…” 

“the only one not noticing that is you, hoshina,” mina mutters. “you get all sullen when they leave and happy when they come back, but you have to act like a… hmm… what does he act like, okonogi?” 

hoshina’s eyes went wide as okonogi hummed. 

“a cat!” okonogi declares emphatically. 

“yes. you’re right,” mina says decisively. “that’s a good fit. you act like a cat about it. you try to—”

“stop. stop it, stop it, i don’t want to hear it. stop analyzing my personality. this isn’t some kind of joke,” hoshina says, his voice sounding more flustered as he went on. “they’re never gonna say yes. it’s stupid. confessing like this… it would only be a burden on all of us.” 

mina and okonogi exchanged a look.

“besides, i’m a bad boyfriend. remember that last girl, from operations,” hoshina laughed. “broke her heart in three seconds flat.” 

“… if i remember correctly, you liked her quite a lot, though,” okonogi said hesitantly. 

“ha! so what if i did?” hoshina asked. “she only just left when i… hm.” his smile seemed to falter somewhat, but he laughed. “it’s fine. it’s fine. i’m fine.” 

behind his back, mina and okonogi exchanged another look. 

but his mind flickered back to his hand on your back, and wondered if you leaning into his touch was a fluke. 

[…]

you stare at hoshina from across the room. he’s eating by himself, half a piece of melon bread in his mouth as he stared down at some papers in his hand. you’d have asked to sit next to him, if only you were braver. but you were a coward, so here you were. you stare down at your own food, tearing off a corner of the red bean bun you were eating, popping it in your mouth. 

your crush on hoshina was about as subtle as a freight train. which is to say, you felt it coming on, and then by the time you’d fully reconciled it, you were already being run over repeatedly. it was just grappling, mostly, with how cool he was, endlessly. 

you wondered what it would be like to live under the intensity of his stare, as it enveloped you whole. 

would it be like a benevolent fire? or would he raze you so wholly that there’d be nothing left? 

you wanted to find out. you wanted to find out, but you were so scared he’d burn you before you could even get close. but what was important was that hoshina, for sure, didn’t even bother to reciprocate your feelings. that’s what you were so sure of—because why would someone like him give you the pleasure of his time? surely his time was more valuable than wasting it on a nobody like you. 

his intensity, sharpened to a fine point, was better spent figuring out how to permanently eradicate the kaiju threat altogether. 

right?

you sighed miserably. 

“now that sounds like a miserable sound to me,” hoshina’s voice rang out right next to your ear. 

you nearly jumped out of your skin as soon as you heard his voice, too focused for a second on the soft, tickling sensation of his breath against the shell of your ear. your face bloomed bright red, and you immediately backed away from him, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. 

“hoshina!” you stammer. “what—what are you doing?” 

“eating?” hoshina raises his eyebrow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “noticed you were staring. take a picture, by the way, if you want. they do last longer than the momentary glances.” he sat down next to you, continuing to eat.

so he had noticed you staring. 

“s-sorry. for staring,” you say. 

“huh? why are you sorry?” hoshina asks, cocking his head at you, one of his eyes opening a bit wider. “i don’t mind. if i minded, i woulda said something.” your face flushed a little more at his words, and you looked away as he laughed. 

“you really are cute,” he says fondly, reaching out a hand to pat your head.

… huh?

“what?” you ask weakly. 

“huh? did i say something weird?” hoshina asks, the picture perfect image of innocence—or so you’d say, if his eyes weren’t narrowed at you, and the smile on his face a little too much like a smirk, waiting for how you’d react. 

“no…? i guess? it’s just not something i thought you’d say. to me,” you say falteringly, looking away for a moment. 

“mm. i guess i should make a habit of saying it more, huh?” hoshina teases, removing his hand from your head. 

and as you fluster a little more, you curse god for your crush on soshiro hoshina. 

[…]

“you need to quit fucking around,” narumi says, pointing a dumbbell at hoshina in the training room. 

“fucking around? i’m doing nothing of the sort,” hoshina says, that mask of innocence still on his face. narumi’s brow furrows. 

“sure, and you don’t also ogle… you need to get your shit together and confess, or swear to god, i’ll kill one of you. or, hell, why don’t we just kill both of you so i don’t have to fucking look at you?” narumi scoffs, anger spiking in his voice. 

“ha, yeah, maybe if you do that i’ll finally be free from hearing your annoying, grating voice,” hoshina says, prodding narumi in the chest.

“yeah, but then you won’t confess your feelings and then i’ll have to die knowing i broke up a couple that hadn’t even gotten together,” narumi grumbles. “i’m not a monster.”

“huh?” hoshina asks.

narumi looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

“wait, so you didn’t know they reciprocate?”

“i–well, i… hoped?” hoshina says, realizing how stupid he must sound. his mind flit back to your reactions the past few days–hell, the past few weeks? maybe the past few months? “oh. shit.”

“oh. shit. indeed,” narumi mocks. “so, are you going to tell them?”

“i…” hoshina suddenly realized how terrified he was. his face paled, his hand coming up to his mouth. “i… shit. wait. this is–fuck. i…” he ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs up past his face, a shaking sigh passing his lips. “no. this is… how would i even begin to explain it? i’m not… i can’t. i’m not–i can’t be a good partner. not in this line of work. my judgement could be compromised! that wouldn’t–”

“your judgement is already compromised,” narumi says, a bared snarl-turned-smile on his lips. “you know, hoshina. this is probably the most interesting you’ve ever been. you’re always facades, niceties. pretended you were untouchable, swimming in that sea of self-loathing and ineptitude. but maybe you’re beginning to live a little, aren’t you?”

hoshina’s eyes widened.

living?

[...]

it’d always come to the worst, you thought. you coughed up a mouthful of blood as another round of rubble began to creak overhead. you tried to force your body to move, and your suit pulsed in response to your movements, attempting to close the bloody gashes across your body from the kaiju attack. 

“command, come in,” you gasped out, holding up a shaking hand to your in-ear. you winced as there was only a clicking static in response–was no one coming? were you all alone? were you going to die like this, your limbs barely even able to hold up their own weight even with most of your combat power unleashed? is this all you were good for? your knees buckled as you collapsed onto the ground, coughing out a mouthful of blood.

were you going to die like this?

you couldn’t.

you didn’t want to.

your vision swam a bit as you coughed out another mouthful of blood, your mind lingering.

hoshina had touched your back right before you’d left, a small smile crossing his face.

“don’t die,” he’d said. 

and here you were, stumbling through the rubble, hurting so badly that you might as well be dead. 

it was utterly and painfully cliche to think about letting hoshina down. you didn’t want to, and yet there was a horrifying possibility that you would. and as you buckled again, collapsing onto your knees, you coughed out another mouthful of blood.

fuck.

“command,” you repeated, in a weaker voice. “please. if someone–if anyone can hear me–i need help. suit damage is–” you cough again, wiping blood from your mouth. “--critical. please.” 

and as your vision swam, you felt a hand press against your shoulder.

“there you are.”

you blinked hard, staring up at the face of soshiro hoshina, who’d pulled his mask off, leaning down to pull you into his arms.

“hoshina,” you whisper. “i’m sorry–i shouldn’t have… i got…”

“why are you apologizing?” hoshina asks, his voice sounding more choked than you’d like it to be.

“i didn’t mean to–i didn’t mean for this to happen.” you think you’re bleeding across hoshina’s suit, across his gloves as you press your head against his shoulder. 

hoshina laughs desperately, wetly.

“you didn’t mean to–of course you didn’t mean to!” hoshina protests. “the attack was more than any of us could have predicted–of course you didn’t mean for any of this happen–i don’t want you to apologize for that.” his hand reaches up to swipe some blood away from your brow. “come on, love. i have to tell you how i feel–that bastard was right, after all. my judgement was compromised from the beginning, around you.” 

“that bastard? narumi?” you ask, coughing a bit. why did it feel so cold? your eyes fluttered for a moment,  “what does he have to do with any of this–”

“i love you,” hoshina says. “i’m sorry it took me this long to tell you. and i’m selfish, for waiting until you’re bloodied, like this, to tell you.” you didn’t like the desperate look in his eyes like he was convinced you were going to die. you leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“you bastard,” you muttered. “couldn’t you have thought up a better time and place for all of this?” 

“no,” hoshina admits. “because i’m selfish, after all.” he smiles at you, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. “come on. let’s get you to the medbay. i’m not letting you die on me yet.”

“okay,” you whispered weakly. “okay.”

[yuwuta]

WHEREVER YOU WANNA GO, THAT’S FINE WITH ME — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 

cw mentioned/talks about death but not like… in a serious way 😭 this whole thing is very unserious and stupid it’s just a thought i couldn’t get out of my head, megumi being… megumi, f2l but what’s new, also inspired by some clip from a tv show i’ve seen on tt but idk the name of it, if you do pls let me know

you ask megumi you make one of those marriage pacts with you—that if neither of you are married by thirty-five, you two will get married to each other—and he just hums for a moment before asking, “do you think i’ll be better suited for marriage at thirty-five?”

“what? n—i don’t know? maybe? it just seems like an appropriate age to get married if you’re not already, that’s all,” you explain.

more humming. he blinks, “i don’t think i’ll be all that different at thirty-five.”

“well, that’s concerning,” you joke, “you’re supposed to change—grow a little bit as a person and all that, megumi. even you are capable of it.”

“i won’t want anything different out of a marriage at thirty-five than i would right now,” he corrects you, then turns to you, and with all seriousness demands, “so, state your stipulations. what do you want from me, let’s figure out of this is gonna work now.” 

you scoff, and cross your arms. “what do i want from you? that’s not how a marriage works.” 

“that’s how this friendship already works.” 

you say, megumi does; he pushes it than he should have, you say to stop, and eventually he does, and the cycle continues. he’s always stubborn, and sacrificing himself beyond necessity, and you’re always pulling his ear for it. 

“okay. fine,” you settle, straightening your posture, “i want a house. three bedrooms, so nobara and yuuji don’t have to bicker about sharing when they stay over.” 

megumi considers it, then counters with, “four. gojo needs a bedroom, too. one floor, i don’t like stairs.” 

“where the fuck are we going to find a one-level four-bedroom house? i don’t want to live in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.” 

“we’ll find one,” he shrugs, doesn’t flinch when he promises: “or i’ll have one made for us. next: vacations.” 

“twice per year. somewhere tropical, and somewhere metropolitan.” 

“i don’t like the beach.” 

“then you don’t have to go on the beach.” 

“you’re responsible for me if i burn.” 

“i’m responsible for you either way, i’m your wife,” you taunt, “pets, next. i want dogs. two. maybe three. and a bunny.” 

“no bunnies, they’re too much work.”

“but i want a bunny, megumi.” 

“you won’t have time for a bunny,” he rolls his eyes, “and you’re gonna get pissed when it chews up the expensive couch you’re gonna make me buy, and takes a shit in the expensive fruit bowl you’re gonna con gojo out of. no bunnies.” 

you pout and frown, but megumi doesn’t budge: “no bunnies.” 

you sigh, “no bunnies, but i want the dogs.” 

“i didn’t say no to the dogs. unless you want a golden, then i’m not raising that.” 

“why not? we already have yuuji.” 

“exactly, we already have yuuji.” 

“fine. i want a king sized bed. the really big, oversized ones you get in america.” 

“done. children?” 

“you want children?”

megumi shrugs, but you swear there’s a dust of pink on his cheeks, “maybe. maybe not. if i did, no more than two.” 

and suddenly you can’t help but feel heat in your own face, hot with the image of two tiny megumis running around. 

“that’s fine with me. maybe kids, but no more than two,” you cough, “i want one of those heated driveways for the house.”

“i’ll have it built. i’ll clean and do laundry and take out the trash if you cook.”

“what about days i don’t cook?”

“then i’ll do that, too,” megumi nods, “anything else?”

“yes. if i die first, you can remarry, but you visit my grave at least twice a year, and bring peonies. and that picture of me from prom where i look really good.” 

“no.” 

you stop. you blink. “what do you mean ‘no?’ you wouldn’t visit my grave?—kinda cruel considering i birthed your up-to-two future children and raised your dogs.” 

“i won’t remarry. and i don’t want you to if i die first,” he corrects you, again, “and there’s no dying first and leaving me behind, i’m going with you.”

he doesn’t leave room for debate in his declarations: won’t, don’t; not wouldn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t—you have to pinch yourself to stop chasing the rabbit of temptation running through your mind. 

“i don’t… think you get to decide that,” you chuckle. 

“of course i do,” megumi grins, uncrosses his legs and leans over. he reaches a hand to the back of your head and pushes it forward until your foreheads meet gently; and as if the affection wasn’t shocking enough, he continues, “where you go, i go. that’s marriage, right?” 

he widens his smile a bit, before letting you go, leaning back into his seat again with crossed arms like nothing happened, and you’re left staring, blinking, breathing shallowly like prey that narrowly escaped being caught.

you don’t speak, so megumi does, “i have one more thing.” 

and slowly, you unthaw enough to let out a questioning hum. megumi tilts his head before telling you, “i want your last name.” 

“what? you—you would change your name?” you stutter, “but fushiguro is so pretty! and it’s your mom’s name, so few people get their mother’s names.” 

“yeah. this way, our up-to-two children get their mother’s names, too.” 

“i—okay… yeah, i guess they do,” you gape, then pout, “wait, what if i wanted to be mrs. fushiguro?” 

“tough luck,” he grins, “you get everything else.” 

you get me, instead, is what’s left unsaid. 

“okay, fine. sounds like a deal to me.” 

“great. we can’t have a spring wedding because gojo and toji will sneeze obnoxiously loudly, and we can’t have a summer wedding because the anniversary will conflict with our tropical vacation, and nobara will kill us if it’s too close to her birthday,” he says, standing up from the couch to head to the kitchen, “so i’ll see you at the courthouse in september.” 

you nod reflexively, sinking back into the couch with a satisfied smile. it’s a while before your brain processes his words, and when it finally does, you spring up in a fluster, “september? megumi, i said when when we’re thirty-five and if neither of us are already married! megumi? megumi fushiguro, come back here!” 

[moonstruckme]

Hi omg could I request Remus comforting insecure reader who makes jokes about her looks all the time and stuff and kind of tries to avoid talking deeply about it because it actually really hurts deep down but Remus wants to address it and when he talks to her she’s like “you wouldn’t get what it’s like to be ugly you (as in Remus) have always been beautiful” ? I hope that makes sense 😭Totally understand if you don’t want to write this!

Of course you can lovely! Thank you :)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 884 words

Remus’ self control starts to fray when you discard your third outfit. 

It’s not that he’s impatient to get to the restaurant—you’ve both got plenty of time, and watching you try on clothes for him is a far from unappealing way to pass it. The issue is that you don’t seem to get how fucking phenomenal you look in all of them. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh, making a face at yourself in the mirror before lifting the top over your head. It’s tossed onto the bed, where Remus picks it up to put it back on its hanger. “That color makes me look sickly.” 

“Dove,” he reprimands. “It does not.” 

“Rem,” you mimic his tone teasingly. The late afternoon light filters through the window, and he honestly isn’t sure if the glow he’s seeing is from that or from the smile you give him. “I already look like this, I don’t need to accentuate it.” 

You do that. Self-deprecate. Like it’s anticipatory, like you’re in on a joke that hasn’t been told yet. It makes Remus’ skin prickle. 

“Anyway, I’ll be with you, handsome.” You set one hand on the bed and lean over to peck him on the lips. You take the top with you as you go, hanging it back up in the closet with a nod of thanks to your boyfriend. “I’m not aiming for mind-blowingly gorgeous, but I’d like to look at least remotely in your league, if I can.” 

“You always look mind-blowingly gorgeous,” Remus says softly. His chest aches with earnestness. 

You select a different top, tossing a coy grin over your shoulder. “Thanks, honey.” 

“No, really.” He feels suddenly hot with desperation. Remus doesn’t usually get in your way like this. You make your jokes, he disagrees politely, and he lets you move on. But the need to make you hear him, to talk until you finally get it, see how obsessed he is with you, has been building. If there’s one hill he’s going to die on, he wants this to be it. “You looked lovely in that top, and in everything. You’re exquisite, dove. Do you get that?” 

Your smile falters, and you turn away. You speak into the closet, over the schwick of hangers sliding. “Exquisite.” Humor bends the syllables of the word. “You’re too sweet. Careful, or you’ll give me an ego to eclipse the sun.” 

Remus wishes, but he seriously doubts there’s any danger of that. Your perusal of the closet picks up its pace, criticism a shadowy gray cloud above your head. He stands from the bed and steps forward to wrap his arms around your waist. You still, relaxing into him automatically. 

“I don’t understand why you have to deflect like that,” he says, doing his best to sound kind even as a protective ire burns fiercely in his chest. “You’re always making these cruel jokes about yourself, and you won’t listen when I tell you how wrong you are. Why?” 

“Remus.” It’s hardly a murmur, and yet the plea is clear. “Can we drop this, please?” 

Just like that, the fire in his chest is smothered. A dull ache takes its place. “Not if you’re going to keep doing it,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck. “Just tell me why, please.” 

You clasp your hands over his, seeking comfort even as you stiffen in his arms. “You wouldn't get it.” There’s no venom in your tone, but Remus hears the slight edge. “You don’t know what it’s like to be ugly, Rem. You’ve always been beautiful.” 

A laugh barks out of him, sharper than he means it to be. “I wouldn’t get it?” 

You’re quiet. He takes you by the shoulders, turning you to face him. Your eyes drop to his chin. 

“Do you really think I wouldn’t know how it feels to be insecure?” he asks. “Dove, I grew up with giant tears and scars on my face. People stare at me.” Your eyes flit up to his, shame and apology clear within them. When they go back down, Remus follows, ducking so you can’t hide from his gaze. “I understand that when you feel like something about you is ugly, no one can convince you it’s not. You have to do that on your own, pretty girl.” A flicker of emotion—discomfort, aversion, something else—passes over your face at the endearment. Remus has to swallow against the upset that clogs his throat. “But do you think you could try talking about yourself more kindly? For me, if not for you. It hurts to hear you being so cruel to someone I care about,” he says softly. 

Every line of your face is tense with discomfort at the topic, but you finally meet his eyes. Remus’ smile is reflexive. He’s not sure how you can find things not to love in this face so full of sweetness. 

“Sorry,” you say, sheepish. 

“Don’t be sorry.” He rubs your upper arms affectionately. “I know you don’t do it to spite me, darling.”

You bring your hands up around his neck, hugging him loosely. “You really are beautiful,” you murmur into his sweater. “With the scars, too. I’m not just saying that.” 

“So are you.” Remus kisses the top of your head. Someday, he’ll get you to believe it.

[kissitbttr]

your mafia!toji fic got me thinking so hard abt him😭😭 he’s deffo the type to just buy you sm stuff as an apology but when you don’t forgive him and sleep in a different bedroom mf will come into the room on his knees and beg for you to come to sleep 😩😩 imagine still saying no and him just flipping you onto his shoulders and carrying you to bed 🤭

oh you are absolutely correct!

|

“darling” toji softly calls you, letting out a tired sigh. “i said i was sorry. what am i supposed to do?”

“die” she replies nonchalantly, shoulders shrugging before grabbing a pillow and your favorite blanket off the bed,

he snickers, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “now, now that would be over dramatic don’t you think? won’t you miss me?”

he almost pisses his pants when she throws him a glare,

“okay. no jokes. got it” he put his hands up in surrender, feeling absolutely terrified at his baby being mad and speaking less than two words to him,

if anyone ever finds out that the most feared and notorious man in the city being tamed by his woman, he would never hear the end of it,

but she is scary. can you blame him?

toji looks over at the designer shoes and bags he just purchased a few hours ago, tucked neatly in the corner. untouched by her.

guess the apology gifts aren’t working,

“i didn’t know that she was coming, i haven’t even talked to her in years! never planned to anyway, you know i only got my eyes for my girl, right?”

she tries so hard not to roll her eyes,

toji had a meeting with one of the cartels at the club earlier that night. and of course, she always goes. it’s where he can always keep an eye on her and refuses to leave her at home all alone because he can’t risk that. also, because she’s his good luck charm. whenever she’s around, deals always goes well,

tonight was an exception though,

all was well until a certain person decided to crash. his old fling. one before he met his precious girlfriend. the red haired thought that it would be fun to press her fake ass tits against toji,

y/n was shocked to say at least. she didn’t say anything but her face spoke thousand words. toji could see that. throwing daggers at the bitch, corner of her lips quirk into a form of disgust.

and the worst part was? toji didn’t do anything about it! can you believe that asshole?!

something about being absolutely unprofessional if he was ever to push her off and it ticked y/n to the fucking bone so she decided to ignore him the rest of the night,

toji feels defeated when she chooses not to respond, simply just taking her stuff. he crouches lightly to look at her pretty face clearly. “baby… can you please look at me? I can’t stand seeing you mad. i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”

if it was any circumstances, sure she would melt and jump in his arms. but tonight is different. how could he?

she looks up at him and whisper “fuck. you” before turning around angrily and walk out of the door to go sleep on the guest room,

toji groans, the heel of his palms pressing against his eyes. she has always been so stubborn. too fucking stubborn. exactly why he had to get rejected seven times before she accepted his date.

what? he needed to get humbled, so she gave him that.

he contemplate for a while whether or not he should let her be or not. then he chooses the latter. it would probably be best if he let her cool off some steam for a while, he doesn’t want to do any more damage or make her feel more annoyed by his presence,

bet. not even ten minutes later, he feels like losing his mind without her here.

“fuck this shit” he mutters, getting up from the bed. rubbing his face furiously before stomping towards the other side of the room,

he walks in without knocking, ready to say what he needs to say again. yet he stops. heart clenching at the sight of his girl curled up in bed, back facing him.

“love?” he slowly walks over to her laying figure,

“go away” she speaks. now in a softer tone

“please” he begs, walking around the bed and catching a glimpse of her playing with her pink manicured hands. “sweetheart. I’m sorry” he repeats, going down to her eye level before letting his hand moves to rest on her bare thigh. he’s internally relieved when she doesn’t push him off,

he sighs when she’s not looking at him, seemingly only focused on the nails that she had gotten done a week ago.

“i should’ve pushed her off. shouldn’t let her touch me like that. hell, i shouldn’t even let her breathe near me. i know that” he realizes his mistake. “i didn’t even think about what my girl needed. i was being a horrible boyfriend”

no answer,

he sighs again, refusing to look away from her pretty eyes,

“baby—“

“i heard you the first time. leave. and close the door”

toji is taken aback. fuck. she really is mad at him.

“you don’t mean that”

“uhm, yes i do” she retorts in an obvious tone, sassily raising her eyebrow before scooting a bit further from him. she doesn’t realize this but it makes his heart break,

“princess, i swear-“

“go call that girl back to keep you company. let that fucking bitch sleep by your side” she mutters, looking at the tv instead of him,

he can’t take this anymore,

“you know what? that’s it” toji had enough, he will not be sleeping alone and neither will she. standing up on his feet, his hands reach out to circle around her ankles before tugging her body towards him causing her to yelp,

“toji! what the fuck are you doing-oh!” her voice gets cut off the moment he pulls her body up like she weighs nothing. throwing her over his shoulder. “put me down!” her fists start to hitting his back—as if they’re actually hurting him— legs swinging back and forth

“nope” he answers, keeping a firm grip around her waist before swatting her ass, locking the guest room behind him and walking back to their shared one. “you’re driving me crazy, woman—not saying that i hate it, but i’m pretty fucking beat tonight and we are going to sleep together. so stop fighting me”

she huffs, admitting defeat and letting him carry to the bed. “fuck you, toji”

he smirks at that. “oh i will, baby”

[koiiiji]

✧˖° — windbreaker men & their nasty, perverted habits

✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.

✧˖° all characters aged up ° ˖ ✧

idk why app let me add only 10 pics, so pls sorry, i added mostly rare characters✌🏻🥹😭

HANDSY! vinny

who is always seeking for your attention and physical touches unintentionally. vinny isn’t a big fan of showing feelings on public but he would keep his hand when hugs you by the waist suspiciously close to your ass or boobs. when you two in private, be prepared for a lot of ass spanks and vinny’s nimble hands to be all over your body under the shirt.

SPYING! jay jo

filthy motherfucker who would rather die then admit that he want to fulfill some sexual tension. so he would do everything, but not initiate sex - spying on you while you in bath, or his favorite, when you taking shower and and he can watch how streams of water flow down your hair, down your back, going lower and lower, and clouds of steam create some kind of obstacle, not allowing to fully enjoy the view, but still leaving an intimate picture that he is watching as if mesmerized, from behind a half-closed door

WHINY! min u

min u sometimes moan as a joke when you in hangout together, for example when you slap him on a shoulder after another joke, or when he accidentally hits his hand on a table or corner in your presence. AND he is super vocal in bed, like super super… even if he is on top, his voice go wild sometimes, when he's already euphoric and you're both chasing your second or third orgasm.

DIRTY MINDER! noah

noah thinks about sex in general and sex with you almost 24/7. she not thinking about it only when training and cycling, even in her sleep she saw dreams about having sex few times. she thinks about poses you two can try, about how you would look like under her or on top, or how it would look like in the mirror reflection, or if you try handcuffs, or if…. it’s always on her mind. she likes to experiment, as long as you comfortable with this, but even if you not, she would try to talk about it and comfort you into her experiment.

HORNY! harry

here is a little bit different from noah. harry just wants to have himself inside you, make love with you, hold you, rearrange your insides, all kinds of words that describes fucking. he is not thinking about experiments or things he want to try, he just want to be inside you. especially, he likes after training or after race sex, when he is still full of adrenaline and came to you to relieve himself. it doesn’t matter to be rough and aggressive sex, no, he hates to give you pain. yes, sometimes he likes to be a little bit rough but mostly he stops himself unless you saying him opposite, so mostly it’s just such a passionate sessions of making out, preparing, sex, and after care when he’s already calmed down, rubbing your back and humming softly.

PANTY STEALER! hwangyon

pervert. even though you two in relationship don not wonder that you won’t find your underwear after sleepover at his place. and if on this weekend you decided to stay at your place, don’t wonder if you won’t find pair of thong in your closet, this nasty whore definitely woke up earlier and took pantie to his pocket. it is not necessary for him to do something with them, but hwangyeon will definitely wrap them around his dick and will jack off, so when he finishes he will took photo of your panties covered in his cum and send it to you. you will phone him right after receiving photo and yell for stealing your new pair.

BREEDER! sangho

sangho likes the idea of having wife and his own small family. just him, you and your swollen tummy where will his own child come from soon. (and no annoyingly loud siblings) he likes to be on top, in control, and the idea of impregnate you makes him feral. thought about your fertility, and that he is actually able to make you a child, makes him feel that strange sensation in his lower abdomen, as if a knot is being untied. of course firstly you two had a talk about it, and both probably agreed on having protection initially, but god damn, sangho always cumming harder after imaging you having his child.

[frogchiro]

I dunno why but like I’ve just been thinking right what if Makarov with reader who was being held at the same prison ( god knows why we won’t question that rn 😭 ) and after breaking him he takes the lil squad and goes to break reader out

There is one of the voice lines of Makarov in the game when you choose him as an operator that goes "Someone of your talent belongs at my side" and oh dear gOD this has inspired me so much😭

Okay so I kinda imagine this as some kind of 'what if?' scenario where basically Hackergirl's life goes terribly, no good, very bad wrong. After getting noticed and caught doing hacker work due to one life-changing slip up, instead of getting recruited by Laswell and eventually into the 141, you get thrown into Zordaya Prison and are left to rot.

You can imagine how hard the life was for someone who barely reached adulthood to live in such conditions and now that you're in your early twenties you're just full of resentment. You don't want to survive anymore, you want revenge, but what can you do? You'll probably die in this shithole sooner than later either from the cold or form poisoning from the garbage they call food.

Unbeknownst to you, you caught the eye of a certain russian who heard quite the things about a young and promising hacker while he was still free and now that he was incarcerated in the very same prison as you, he made sure to learn about you everything, you became his obsession so to speak.

So imagine your surprise and horror one faithful day when you hear many voices screaming and barking orders, soldiers and prison guards running amok and shots getting fired, then even more screams and alarms going off howling like crazy.

You're no soldier, you know that and if you make any noise you'll probably die; you don't want to die. You're scared.

Imagine being curled up in a corner of your cell, your breath quick and your heart feels as if it will jump right out of your chest with how quickly it flutters before it finally hitches when you notice a dark shadow loom over you. It was the tattooed man you've heard about. The russian devil some called him; Makarov.

You stared silently at him, your wide (e/c) eyes never moving away from him as his dark brown eyes bored into yours. After what seemed like hours of just staring at the large male outside your cell and those eerie eyes looking at you as if searching your soul, finally two soldiers came and started opening your cell door.

You recognized what they were doing, trying to get to you. Pushing your back flat against the farthest wall of your cell, you started hyperventilating. No. No no no, thi-this can't be it. You have things to do, things to finish and now instead of dying in a cold cell you'll be kicked and beaten to death like a street mutt. No.

"Please no-" but before you could finish your sentence, the man, Makarov, entered the room in absolute silence and as if he commanded every particle in it. He stopped a few paces away from you before offering you a hand, the same eerie look on his face and the words escaping his mouth that changed your life:

"Someone of your talent belongs at my side".

[bubbless-s]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ A brushstroke of love ᝰ.ᐟ

Request: “I don’t know if you still take Harry Potter requests but can you do slytherin boys (and pansy) walking on you doing your pre shower makeup?”

Masterlist

- ʚɞ genre: fluffly, light entertainment

- ʚɞ warnings: none

Tom Riddle

✧ Gets annoyed.

✧ “Why are you wasting your make up?”

✧ Still doesn’t get why you waste time and energy doing this.

✧ You jumpscared him once because you had done a minion full face make up.

✧ it just happened that you were walking after him and he suddenly turned.

✧ Starts hating the pre shower makeup even more.

✧ Would rather die then tell anyone that he got jumpscared by your face in yellow.

Mattheo Riddle

✧ “Love what the fuck.”

✧ Will NEVER let you do it on him.

✧ You will give him kisses? No—wait kisses?

✧ Well since you will give him compensation he will sit trough it.

✧ “I look like what you would get when you search ghetto make up on google.”

✧ Likes it more if you put lipstick on and kiss his whole face.

✧ He is like a energetic 9yo who ate tons of chocolate. So in conclusion he can’t stay still for too long.

Theodore Nott

✧ Thinks its funny since he has done it too.

✧ Buys you those shitty kid make up products so you don’t waste your expensive makeup.

✧ Secretly takes pictures of you and threatens to post it.

✧ But he never will.

✧ Let’s you do his brows because he finds it hilarious how he looks with big brows drawn with a eyeliner from a kid makeup set.

✧ Takes 0,5 pictures of you and himself after the masterpiece makeup is done.

✧ Laughs everytime the dollar store lipstick snaps in half from bad quality and his pressure from applying it.

Draco Malfoy

✧ “Is this what birthday makeup is or..?”

✧ Straight up holding back tears when you force him to try it.

✧ “This is muggle activity I—“ “So is bleaching your hair Malfoy.”

✧ You made his skin match his hair. ‘Accidentally’ with water proof 24h lasting brush.

✧ He almost cried.

✧ Didn’t go to classes that day and didn’t step out of his room.

✧ Also he ‘accidentally’ smudged the makeup in your shirt. Accident happen!

Enzo Berkshire

✧ Traumatised.

✧ “Why do you look like a smurf :(.”

✧ Doesn’t want to do it. But he is supportive. Kinda.

✧ Will get you tons of micellar water so the cleaning process is easier.

✧ If you mess up your mascara and get it all over the tube he won’t also mind cleaning it.

✧ What he will mind is if you try to do it on him.

✧ “My skincare is expensive girl..💅”

Blaise Zabini

✧ Stands in the doorway with a ‘:|’ face.

✧ “Um what are you doing this late at night cupcake?”

✧ Another type to take pictures of you.

✧ Agrees when you offer to do his next.

✧ Suddenly became a professional makeup artist??

✧ And comments and how you blend things and stuff😭

✧ “Im rocking this.”

Pansy Parkinson

✧ “I thought we were doing this together?”

✧ Immediately sits next to you and DEMANDS that you do her makeup too.

✧ In the end you both have matching makeup. You’re painted in pink she is in blue. (Stitch and his gf)

✧ “I look so cute. But you’re the cutest.”

✧ Kisses your face anyway. Who cares if you have kilos of make up on your faces?

✧ “Babe do I have makeup smudges on my arse?” “Don’t worry the only thing I see is fifty pounds of ass😋”

✧ The removing process is another type of pain.