#&&; it's just a spark but enough to keep me going. ( ooc )

[deathxcko]

but like what the hell is up with the sudden influx of 🦇c*st rpers. like the tags are filled with them. i'm hanging on by a thread here can I PLEASE just have interactions with bats that are normal

[catcze]

#WRIOTHESLEY — Butterflies

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[ Typing… ] I will be so honest rn... if you don't like sappy lovesick shit you are going to cringe but if you DO like sappy lovesick shit 👀 say no more. He might be ooc but i do not care because i love him and I want him to love me 2 <3

“Hey Wrio?”

“Yes, my love?”

You’re not even sure if he’s fully awake. You don’t blame him if he isnt— it’s probably two-something in the morning and the both of you are neck-deep in the sheets of your bed. If anything, it’s a wonder why you’re still up.

“Nothing important, sorry,” you mumble, face buried in his chest. “Just… wondering about some things.”

“Like?”

Wriothesley’s hand rests on the expanse of your back, drawing slow, soothing shapes into your skin. When you glance up, his soft and sleepy expression greets you.

“Like… Like if you also get butterflies in your stomach and all that when you see me like... the way it is when I see you,” you admit quietly, snuggling closer, hoping to hide the expression on your face from his keen eyes.

There's a pause, and for a moment you wonder if you offended him somehow. An apology is hastily on the tip of your tongue, thinking that you'd crossed some unspoken line and had jeopardized everything.

But Wriothesley pulls you up and up before you can speak— far up enough on the pillow that you're now seeing him eye-to-eye instead of hiding in his chest. There's no anger or apprehension in his face, only a gentle fondness and the sweetest smile.

One of his hands cups your cheek and the other wraps around you, keeping you flush against him. His hands are so warm against you— so at odds with the alignment of his vision. Even his cool blue eyes are warm and soft when they connect with yours, enraptured by the sight before him.

Wriothesley's voice is a low murmur when he speaks, softened by affection. "My love, every time I see you, even in passing, it feels like my heart will beat right out of my chest. It's like the whole room just lights up and I can't see anything else but you, you know? You're in every one of my thoughts, every crevice of my heart, you wonderful thing. I take one look at you and I can never get enough."

He presses a kiss to each eyelid. His words are sweet like honey as he holds your face so gently in his palm. "I'm so devoted to you, darling. I could stare into these eyes for the rest of my life, and I would know the meaning of peace."

With one hand, he twines his fingers with yours, lifting your joined hands to his lips with reverence, and placing a kiss on the back of your hand. "Whenever I feel you under my palms, no matter how fleeting, I feel every single part of me come alive— as if you've sent sparks to me through your very finger tips."

Wriothesley's hand untangles from yours then, just so that he can guide it to rest on his chest, right above his heart. Even through the cotton of his sleep shirt, you can feel it racing under your palm. You glance up, and nearly buckle at the expression on his face. He is so, so in love with you— in every definition of the world, in every way that one person can fall in love. He smiles.

"My whole heart is yours. It beats and it sings and it aches all for you. Whenever you're nearby, I feel like I can't breathe and I can't think. All I want is to make you happy and to make sure that you are loved, and to offer you the world, should you ask me of it."

"So to answer your question—" With a grin, he ends with a peck on your lips, and his forehead pressed against yours. Under your palm, you can feel his heart skip a beat.

"Yes, honey. I do, in fact, get 'butterflies and all that' whenever I see you."

Taglist registration [ ! ]

[wonnieluvr]

thinking of you

pairing -> grayson hawthorne x fem!reader

summary -> grayson can’t get you off his mind even years after your messy breakup. do you still think about him too?

warnings -> angst again lol 😭 i tried to make it a happy ending but idk yet

a/n -> pt.2 to this fic but can be read as a standalone :) this one is long, woo 😮‍💨 i also dk if gray is a bit ooc, i tried..

you had been grayson's first love. and sometimes, he believed you were the only one he had truly loved.

you were perfect. and you knew him so well. it had never been difficult with you.

he had never been as happy as he was with you. he hadn't even imagined a world where the two of you broke up.

and yet... you were standing there, across the room.

and you weren't his anymore. how could he have ever let you go?

he could feel his chest tightening, it was becoming harder to breath.

all he could think of was you, you were right there. could he really see you again? he knew in his heart that he still loved you, he could feel the painful twinge in his heart at the thought of you leaving again. leaving without even saying goodbye, without even trying to make this right.

"gray? what are you doing?" he barely registered jameson’s voice, his brother nudging his side to get him to focus. they were meant to be taking photos for the paparazzi and all grayson could do was stare at you.

jameson posed for him, wrapping his arm around grayson’s neck to pull his attention away long enough for a good photo. or at least, one that wouldn’t spark any rumours.

grayson’s scowl was a normal sight, normal enough to please the paparazzi.

“gray” jameson hissed as they moved away to a further less crowded area of the gala. “what the hell are you doing?”

“she’s here jamie..” grayson’s tone was airy, filled with unresolved emotion. he didn’t sound anything like himself. that immediately set off warnings in jameson’s mind.

“who’s here?” jameson was as inconspicuous as grayson had been, head wildly swinging around the room to find who his brother could possibly be talking about.

that seemed to snap enough sense back into grayson. “stop it” he snarled, pulling on jameson’s shoulder in an effort to stop him. “you look stupid, come on”

jameson finally turned back, frowning in offence. “rude. so you’re allowed to act weird and i’m not?” he huffed, subtly glancing around the room this time. “can you just tell me who we’re talking about now?”

“y/n”

jameson froze, eyes widening. “what?”

grayson didn’t reply for a moment, too busy looking for you again. he had almost given up, you probably weren't even here anymore.

had you seen him? had you left at the sight of him? he sucked in a sharp breath at that thought, trying to believe you wouldn't but he knew you would. you would turn and leave the minute you saw him.. it was his fault, after all.

jameson was staring at him, trying to decipher what he was thinking. "look, i don't think this is going to go well.." he begun, the look of disapproval an unusual one for the younger brother. "but, if you're going to talk to her, take it somewhere private"

grayson blankly stared at him back for a moment, struggling to believe that his brother was really encouraging this.

"what?" jameson raised an eyebrow at him. "we all knew how much she meant to you gray, you were never the same after she left" he shook his head, "i don't know if you, or we deserve a second chance but you should try"

"thank you.." grayson's shoulders dropped their stiff posture slightly, grateful for his family for once. not his mother, his aunt, his grandfather but his brothers.

"go on, i've got distraction" he didn't like the look of jameson's proud grin but he could care less what jamie was up to this time. he needed to see you.

he caught sight of your dress first, across the ballroom. he made an immediate dart line for you, weaving between people and looking over their heads to keep track of where you were. you were moving again when he finally reached out, fingers clasping around your wrist.

"y/n"

he could feel himself at a loss for words, his breath even leaving him when you turned. you looked as beautiful as you had back then. even more so, maybe.

you were confused but that quickly turned to a look he knew all too well, one that didn't suit you at all. the sadness, the melancholy, the pain.

"gray.. what are you doing?" your voice. oh, how he had missed hearing you say his name. your beautiful voice.

"y/n i-" he could feel his throat tightening. "i need to speak to you. please"

grayson hawthorne was not a man who said please. not to anyone. but you, he would plead on his knees until you came back to him. if you came back to him.

you looked unsure, but eventually you agreed, pulling him along casually as though you were just talking like anyone else. but you weren't anyone else. not to him.

he couldn't help the way his eyes stayed glued to your figure, taking in everything that had changed. you still managed to leave him breathless, even after all these years.

when you were out in one of the more secluded corridors you finally parted from him, dropping his hand and taking a step back. even the way your arms tightened around your waist broke his heart, you were protecting yourself. from him.

"what did you want to talk about?" you were trying to be assertive, short. you wanted this over with.

he winced slightly. "i'm sorry" he had never said that to you as desperately as he did now. he should have.. "i should have defended you, i should have stopped them, i should have- i should have done a lot of things. and i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, y/n. please, you have to understand-"

"i do understand, gray. but you never came after me" your voice was meek and full of emotion. you were trying not to cry. he had hurt you. badly. "you never called, you never texted, you never spoke to me again. what was i supposed to think then? was i just a game? did even really want me? or was i just a fun summer fling? someone you could let go of when you're done messing around with them?"

you were getting angry.

"i can't let you go!" he snapped, his voice loudly echoing down the hall. he didn't even notice, didn't care. you had to understand. "i can't stop thinking about you. you never left my mind. i see you everywhere i go. i kept all of our pictures in the foundation, i can't go anywhere without thinking about you! i never wanted anyone else. i just wanted you and i was stupid and stuck up and i left you! i loved you"

you stayed silent as he breathed heavily, running his hands through his hair. he couldn't look at you, not after that.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't bother you-" he begun, voice quiet. he was ashamed. he was the solid hawthorne, he never broke. but you weren't a hawthorne game, a mystery. you were not what he was used to and as much as he hated feeling like this, you were worth it.

you cut him off, "stop it" he looked up now as your voice cracked. you were crying. his hand raised, instinctually, ready to hold you but paused as he remembered you weren't his. "stop it" you repeated, turning away from him and fiercely attempting to wipe away your tears.

you hated him, you hated the way he made you feel. you hated that you loved him.

he stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. was this it? were you telling him to leave, to never talk to you again. you stepped towards him again, eyes narrowed and trying to keep up the angry facade.

"i hate you so much, grayson hawthorne" he could practically feel his heart break the minute those words left your lips. "you're so-" you threw your hands up, unable to voice just how frustrated you were. "how dare you come here? how dare you come back to me now? you're so annoying! i hate you! i hate how much i think about you. i hate that you're always on my mind. i hate that i can't stop watching your interviews, that i can't stop looking up whether you have a girlfriend. i hate you so much.." you trailed off, hands clutching at his suit jacket as you teared up again.

"i loved you, gray.. i love you so much" he didn't know if it was a mistake that you had changed the tense of that sentence but he wasn't going to question it. not now that you were in his arms. he gently embraced you, head pressing into your neck, breathing in your familiar perfume. you were so beautiful.

"y/n?" a voice called from down the hall, confused. "i heard yelling, are you okay?"

you froze in his arms, slowly pulling back and patting your face dry. you looked just as you had when you'd led him down the corridor. beautiful. "everything's fine, darling. we were just catching up"

darling. grayson's heart twisted in a painful way at the word leaving you mouth. his eyes narrowed coldly at the man standing at the end of the corridor. "gray, this is my date.." you gently introduced the two, frowning slightly. unnoticeable to your date but he knew.

as you went to leave again, you took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "gray" you whispered, your eyes shining. "wait for me, please? please, i can't lose you again" he almost couldn't speak, stunned. he nodded, dumbly. hand chasing yours as you disappeared.

his hand may have been cold, but his heart was warm. for you, he would wait forever.

tags 🫶 @pockyyasii

[ovaryacted]

POOLSIDE || Dieter Bravo

PAIRING: Dieter Bravo x lifeguard! afab reader || WC: 1.8k

SYNOPSIS: You take a job as a private lifeguard for a Hollywood actor. Turns out, you got much more than what you bargained for.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Smutty. Drug usage - weed via a joint. Lots of banter and cursing. Ambiguous age gap [Dieter is canon age, Reader is 21+]. Allusions to sex (pussy eating). Dieter may be ooc due to unfamiliarity. He is still: horny, unhinged, and loves drugs. Ending leaves much to the imagination. I don't know how Hollywood agents or lifeguarding work, just have fun with it, it's supposed to be funny.

A/N: Hey there, surprise! This is for the Summer Lovin' Challenge hosted by @pedgito! I got "by the water" for Dieter Bravo with the prompt: you can’t keep distracting me while I work, and this is what I came up with. I will admit, I am fairly unfamiliar with Dieter as a whole, though I had to read a bunch of other fics to get a sense of who he is, so this was a challenge. But I hope this is enjoyable to those who like him cause I had a little fun going out of my comfort zone. This is my first time writing for this character and I am rusty, please be nice. Dividers are by @saradika-graphics. Anyway, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

When you signed up for a lifeguard gig from a Hollywood agent, you expected to watch over some celebrities’ kids by their large private pool, racking up hundreds for babysitting spoiled brats and lounging by the best-filtered chlorine available. Yet what you got was the complete opposite. Instead of watching over little kids, you were burdened to monitor an overgrown child in the body of a man.

Dieter Bravo. You’ve heard of him, some veteran actor you never really paid much attention to. The name sounded distantly familiar, remembering him at some award shows like the Oscars and recalling his name popping up in some of the selections. At the end of the day, you didn’t give much of a fuck who he was, but when you could take a job with a stipend large enough it would give you that guaranteed comma in your bank account, you didn’t object.

When you reached his private home in Santa Monica, it was quaint and modern enough not to bore you. You arrived around 11 am before the sun reached the highest point in the sky, setting up your gear and peeling away your baggy t-shirt and denim shorts to reveal the red cheeky one-piece you wore underneath. It’s better to play the part, right? At least, that’s what the agent mentioned.

Unsurprisingly, Dieter was about to step into the pool when you entered his private yard, isolated from the rest of the neighborhood and with a generous view over the hills. He tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, eyebrows lifting at the sight of a new person in his space, in a bathing suit, no less.

“You must be the lifeguard my agent hired.” It was a matter-of-fact statement, yet you didn’t fail to miss how his warm brown eyes landed on your chest before meeting your gaze again. “I don’t need a babysitter, you know.”

“Apparently, you do. Look, I’m doing this for the pay. You stay on your good behavior, and I’ll be out of your hair. Simple as that.” A straightforward agreement, you think, he’s a grown-ass man. Surely, he can listen to the bare minimum of instructions.

“Deal,” Dieter said, leaving you to your own devices. You watched as he materialized a joint from his pocket and planted it between his plush lips, sparking his lighter to inhale a drag. He exhaled through his nose, pungent smoke filling the distance between you two and making you scrunch your nostrils. You eyed him silently, holding your hand out and shaking your head when he gestured the joint in your direction for a pull.

That’s why he needed a lifeguard. Getting high off of god knows what in the pool must have been his favorite pastime before he did something stupid or endangered himself. Figures.

Propping yourself on one of the lounge chairs lined by the side of the pool, you got comfortable, tinted shades sitting on the bridge of your nose. You could lean back for some time and catch a nice tan for the first two hours, giving you something to do. You don’t think the man in question will bother you too much or do something as stupid as to drown on your watch, but you’ll do your best to ensure that doesn’t happen.

To your amazement, Dieter was quiet, humming to himself and enjoying his high as he swam about and floated in the pool. When he wasn’t looking, you’d take a couple of glances just to be sure he hadn’t sunk to the bottom. Those were also the moments when you’d get a good look at him, sneaking peeks of his face and body over the blue water.

In a way, he was handsome, with a rugged charm that brought a level of interest you didn’t initially notice. He had a head of curly brown hair and a patchy beard adorned his jaw. His soft abdomen had a trail of light hair lining from his belly button to his groin. Selfishly, you took in the way his light blue shorts hugged his hips, thick thighs shifting to keep his body upright.

Leaning back into the chair as if you hadn’t been picking apart his appearance for the past 3 minutes, you pretended like somehow this strange man wasn’t sneaking into the recesses of your mind and the depths of your gut.

It helped he was cute—just a little bit.

After lunch and munching on some catered sandwiches, you moved from lounging in the chair to sitting along the edge of the pool, dipping your feet in the water. All things considered, you thought Dieter’s house was nice, probably better than his apartment in New York, but you’d kill to have either.

Setting your sunglasses on the top of your head, you could practically feel this man watching you from the other end of the pool, taking in your movements with unfocused eyes. You ignored him, thinking it was just a coincidence or an outcome of his high. But as the faux obliviousness of his stares continued, his dramatic sighs and tricks in the water came after, squinting in his direction to gauge what he was up to.

He began to swim towards you until his hand gripped the tiled edge, running the other through his wet hair to pull it back. You caught his stare, dilated pupils hazed with a silent question.

“Can I help you, Dieter?” Speaking to him directly now, this was probably the first thing you’ve said to him since your heady warning earlier in the day.

“I’m bored.”

“Not my problem.” You shrugged again, the man groaning like a toddler on the precipice of throwing a tantrum.

“C’mon. There has to be something else we can do while you sit all pretty and shit.” Dieter said out loud, making you raise an eyebrow at the catch of certain words. It must be the weed. Ignore him.

“You can always pay and leave me alone to do anything else.” You replied, your attention drawn to one of his hands gently touching your ankle as your foot pushed against his wrist.

“You’re telling me you’re not bored too?”

“Oh yeah, bored out of my fucking mind. But you can’t keep distracting me while I work.”

“This isn’t work. It’s a babysitting job, a bad one at that.” His fingers ran over the top of your foot absentmindedly, and you had half a mind to kick his hand away. You relented, thinking it’d be worth your time if you played your cards right. 

“Have you seen yourself, Dieter? You need surveillance 25/8. I’ve been counting down the minutes to see when I will find you face down still as shit in the pool.”

You half expected him to curse you out or even be upset with what you said. Instead, he laughed, hearty and loud, bringing a wide grin across his face and giving you a perfect view of his smile. You couldn’t help but chuckle along with him out of ridiculousness.

“If you want to keep me occupied and alive, I have an idea of what we can do.” Dieter’s tone turned suggestive, something you didn’t miss. His strong arms wrapped around both of your legs and you welcomed the contact, wanting to know what he could mean, for research purposes of course.

“What do you have in mind?” You grew curious, almost taking back the words that tumbled from your mouth before his eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Well…we are alone. Nobody’s out here but us.” His thumb teasingly caressed the side of your thigh, doing nothing to quell the warmth bubbling in your core with every stroke against your skin. Suggesting to fuck a client? That wasn’t in the job description, nor was there an NDA.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Am I laughing?” Dieter was closer now, maybe too close, his chin resting on the top of your legs as he looked up at you. He reminded you of a puppy dog waiting for his treat, except you were dealing with a complete horndog with no sense of self outside of LSD and bad actor accents.

“Consider it a bonus for taking such good care of me.”

“What am I? A prostitute?” Your eyes rolled in defiance, brushing off what you think was his terrible flirting if that’s what you would call it.

“For the fucking record, I pay all of my sex workers generously. But no, this is just me showing my appreciation.” Dieter’s lips came down to kiss the newly tanned skin of your knee, prompting you to release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“You barely know me.”

“Hasn’t stopped me before. I’m sure you can say the same for yourself.” He couldn’t wipe the smirk from his face, and you don’t think you’d want him to.

“It’ll be much more fun than just watching me for the rest of the day. Don’t even gotta see my dick, I just want to taste you for a while.” He placed another kiss higher on your thigh as his fingers pressed into your calves under the water. “What do you say?”

In silence, you mentally listed the many reasons why this was a bad idea. What would it look like if you fucked Dieter Bravo the first day you were supposed to look after him? A sex addict and drug fiend who somehow still had an acting career despite a change in reputation. Red Flag was written all over his forehead in bright, bold letters.

Yet, those warnings didn’t push you away farther than you needed to be. You were already here, so you might as well leave with something. Besides, it was only 2 in the afternoon, you had some time to spare.

Dieter watched in hunger as your legs parted in front of him, supporting yourself on your arms and you smiled as you did. He was so close he could practically smell you, the stretchy material of your bathing suit hiding the treat he sought after the moment you stepped into his yard. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the taste of your pussy in the back of his mouth, coating his tongue with your slick to quench his thirst on this hot summer day.

He tried so hard to conceal the moan that slipped between his lips, suppressed by his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“You better make this worth it, or you’ll find yourself a new lifeguard.” Dieter laughed, thick fingers wrapping around your thighs and hands on your hips. He gave your body a soft tug, bringing you to the pool’s edge and closer to where he could have his mouth on you.

“Promise baby, you’ll be coming back every day this whole summer.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[niki-phoria]

⋆｡°✩ csm hcs - little things about dating them

characters: aki hayakawa, denji, yoshida hirofumi

includes: devil hunter reader, lots of fluff, forgive me if denji and yoshida are a little ooc, written with male reader in mind

a/n: i think i'm gonna officially start writing for csm :)) i'm open to taking some csm reqs but they might take me a little while to finish so pls be patient with me !!

warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, mention of smoking

gn reader (they/them pronouns)

⋆｡°✩ aki hayakawa

— i see aki as pretty inexperienced

— he’s had crushes before but finding the gun devil and working in public safety makes it pretty hard to go out on dates

— you met when makima assigned you to be his new partner (to help him wrangle power and denji)

— aki’s very slow to trust, and even slower to have feelings for someone

— he’s overly professional when you first meet

— doesn’t talk much unless it’s necessary

— it takes a lot of effort to get to know him beyond his somewhat cold persona

— after enough time (and probably saving his life once or twice) he’ll relent and start to open up to you

— either you have to confess or you just silently start going out together and being more affectionate

— denji is nosy probably sparks the realization for aki

— “what’s going on with you and y/n anyway?”

— “what do you mean?”

— “you’re all soft around them. it’s gross”

— a few days of very deep introspection from aki later and he’ll randomly bring it up

— during one of your balcony talks aki will take a drag from his cigarette and then look over and go 

— “are we dating?”

— you shrug 

— “i’d like to be”

— and congrats you are officially aki hayakawa’s lover

— aki isn’t super affectionate but he’ll make an effort if you are

— he’s gonna be super awkward about it tho lmao

— incredibly stiff the first few times you cuddle or hug but he’ll warm up to it

— he’s never really done this before give him a break

— he’s very protective but in a more subtle way

— puts his body in front of yours, keeps you away from danger, lets denji and power take care of devils to tend to you

— ^they 1000% tease him about being whipped

— aki is very cautious about letting you take devil contracts

— he doesn’t want you to get hurt

— his love language is acts of service

— make him dinner before he gets home or wake him up with a freshly made cup of coffee and heart will go boom boom boom boom

— probably gets all flustered and then gets embarrassed about being flustered

— (if you smoke) he shares his cigarettes with you

— you take turns passing a cigarette back and forth

— late night talks together on your balcony are some of his favourite moments with you

⋆｡°✩ denji

— denji is INCREDIBLY inexperienced

— he spent most of his childhood alone with pochita, slaying devils for money whenever he could, and generally avoiding danger

— he’s seen attractive people before and probably had superficial crushes but he had never seriously considered dating someone

— until he met you

— you met when you were assigned to work with aki as a new recruit into public safety

— your relationship is pretty lighthearted and playful at first

— denji is very dense

— doesn’t really recognize his feelings as romantic until you ask him out

— you have to outright tell him “i want to date you” 

— he’s like “oh cool me too”

— congratulations !! you are now officially together

— denji’s affection is probably a little awkward at first

— he likes cuddling and being affectionate but he’s a little clumsy at how he goes about it

— his only frame of how relationships work is from manga and anime so expect him to try and replicate the tropes he likes with you

— it gets better with time though don't worry

— just don't tease him too much he's genuinely trying his best

— kiss him first and he’ll lose his mind

— his eyes get huge for a second before he smiles and kisses you this time

— during missions denji isn’t overly focused on safety 

— yours or his

— i mean he literally turns into a human chainsaw

— he won’t let you be seriously injured though

— afterwards he scolds you for being clumsy as he poorly tends to your injuries

— he doesn’t know how to do stitches and his way of helping is to press a bandage over everything and playfully kiss the wound afterwards but it’s the thought that counts

— denji isn’t used to being vulnerable

— he’s incredibly nonchalant when he talks about his childhood but he’s still human

— sometimes the weight of being a devil hunter really gets to him

— give him some space and let him come to you naturally

— he probably won’t talk about his feelings in detail 

— let him lay on your chest and play with his hair until he falls asleep 

— he’ll feel better when he wakes up

— emotional intelligence is not denji’s strong suit

— you have to bluntly tell him when he’s doing something wrong

— he’s quick to change though

— he's a little emotionally constipated and he can be a little clumsy with his words and affection but he does really love you

— he just wants the best for you

⋆｡°✩ yoshida hirofumi

— i think yoshida has some experience with dating, but nothing overly serious

— you met in class

— ^either through denji or just because yoshida happened to notice you

— he’s incredibly charming

— puts all of his effort into cracking dumb jokes so you’ll smile when you first meet

— the type to lean in super close so he can “hear you better” and let friendly touches linger just a little too long

— i honestly think he could go either way with confessing

— he wants to date you but he also relishes in seeing you so flustered around him

— if yoshida confesses, it’s pretty nonchalant

— might be romantic and give you a flower or something

— if you confess, yoshida will smirk the whole time

— probably leans back against a wall or something and just watches as you stumble your way through an explanation of how you have feelings for him

— when you finish, he tilts your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes

— does that thing again where he leans in super close just to embarrass you

— “i like you too”

— boyfriend acquired

— congrats :D

— yoshida is definitely a hand holder

— he’s always touching you in some way

— his hand on your thigh underneath your desks, your fingers intertwined when you walk through the hallways, his arm wrapped around your waist as he walks you home

— he refuses to work on missions without you

— he says it’s to “make sure you don’t do anything stupid” but you both know it’s because he worries about you

— also the type to scold you while tending to any of your injuries

— yoshida is affectionate, but only on his terms

— he likes to be the one to initiate physical contact

— in public, he loves bragging about your relationship

— pulls you closer if he catches someone staring at you, introduces you as his lover, follows you around and refuses to leave your side

— he’s a tease

— he cups your face with his hand, slowly leans in, waits for you to start getting annoyed, and then pulls you into a kiss

— always smiles against your lips

— he can’t help it, you just make him so happy

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hello!! I just started reading your works recently and I think it's safe to say that I have fallen in love with them <3 the way you write both the cod guys and the reader feels so real and poetic that I just, eat it up everytime. I read your Barbarian! König post and it got me thinking about something.

König and Ghost are kinda opposites when it comes to their darlings. König likes darlings fiesty and snippy but Ghost likes his darlings as more agreeable or soft but not weak, ykwim??

And it got me thinking about Barbarian! Ghost. Whereas König got his darling bc he killed her husband and she was there when it happened, I see Ghost as going to take one girl originally but then the darling steps in front of said girl and says to take her instead, saving the girl and sacrificing herself. Idk but I think he would be very attracted to that, and unlike König who gently picks you up and puts you upon his horse while you kick and bite him, Ghost grabs you and lays you stomach first against his horse harshly, keeping a sturdy hand on your back as he rides away.

Sorry if this is weird or ooc!! But it was just a thought that came to me!

Oh Barbarian!Ghost would be sooo disinterested on the outside. He only saves her ass discreetly, but saves it more than enough times to spark her curiosity.

Why does he come to her rescue and then abandons her to her own devices?

CW: Minor violence (bruises), noncon groping, fear of SA, blood, cuddling & snuggling, Ghost being a complex PTSD weirdo who has a fascination towards bones.

It’s actually she who approaches him first, not the other way around. He allows her to seek protection by staying near him and thus get the others off her back: he might even throw her a piece of roasted lamb as if she were some stray cat, lurking about his campfire. But there’s not much more than that on offer for her: only a few sideways glances that tell her he regards her mostly as a nuisance and a liability, accompanied by a few scrap bones that luckily have some meat and fat still on them.

He shows her how to snap the bigger ones in half to get to the life saving marrow, and that’s when she realizes he regards her a bit dumb, some pretty royal girl who doesn’t know how to survive without a man.

And who’s to blame for all that? Clever men who have forced her to learn poetry and songs, pluck chords and recite philosophers from memory. No one ever even taught her how to ride a horse, the only things she can do is chat about the latest political turns and whether it’s old-fashioned to style your hair Southern style.

Now she’s supposed to strike a conversation with a barbarian who dresses in furs and wool, who collects the knuckles of his fallen enemies and looks at her like she’s the uncivilized one here. He probably plays dice with those bones, and she’s never seen him force a woman under him; she’s never seen him take a woman at all.

He’s probably half dead already, some ghoul raised to ravage this earth. But everytime she gets drooled over or spat upon, groped or squeezed or slapped on the soft flesh of her butt, she makes her way to him and only him. To become one with the shadows too, or to disappear, perhaps.

He gives her his biggest, thickest pelt to wrap around her shoulders, to cover those assets that make these wartorn men so crazy. Or then he doesn’t want to find her frozen to death at dawn... Dark, vast eyes look at her in the early morning fog, up from above from the highest heights, as if asking why she overslept again.

A rabbit is thrown at her feet, but she doesn’t know what to do with it: she knows he wants her to skin it, yes, but how? Even with the knife he provides her, she can only stare at the soft creature helplessly, lick her dry, creaky lips until he sighs and comes to wrench the blade away, taking the hare before it turns too stiff.

She’s almost certain he’s not even interested in women until one day, someone goes a bit too far and grabs a handful of her to squeeze. The spitting, jerking and screaming turn into a whole fistfight until she gets drawn to her knees by her hair. He’s about to rip her scalp off, of that she is sure from how much it burns.

Tears stream down her face from pure pain alone, but this time, the bone marrow man doesn’t only save her. He walks to the scene like a shadow, yanks her gropers head back, and slits his throat right then and there. The others take a few steps back, mist rises from their gaping mouths as he lets go of the bleeding slump, looking at the pulsing, open vein as if he intends to drink from it. But it seems he only wanted to confirm that the dead stay dead because his interest in this man fades as quickly as it was aroused.

She rises to her feet, only to get swept off them as he dives for her hips and raises her to a crude carry, mainly meant for wheat sacks and sheep.

With a wide palm resting on her butt, he hauls her back to his fire, further away from the open field, and she doesn’t dare to utter a word. He doesn’t squeeze her, he doesn’t grope or slap or force her, but he does throw the fur away from her shoulders to check her body for bruises. She stays silent for the whole inspection as he moves her joints and limbs to check if anything’s broken, carefully like she indeed was only a little lamb. Brushes the pads of his fingers across the darkening spots that tell a story of violence, and it makes her shiver.

They’re just bruises, but they’re also evidence that her body is not her own anymore. Still, this clinical inspection feels far more intimate and warm than the rough hands and demanding mouths from before: it’s not just the intention behind the touch, it’s his presence.

You’ve never felt so thoroughly seen.

A low rumble rises in agreement to you taking his probing so well, and you kind of wish he would hold you tonight.

Just… Hold you.

When he withdraws, content with finding you relatively intact after the attempted assault, you grab his wrist. His head snaps back instantly, but he doesn’t pry himself away from your insolent little fingers. If anything, he’s curious.

You don’t know his words, and he doesn’t know yours, so you decide it’s best not to speak at all.

Pulling his palm back, you bring it to your hip, then further up to your waist, trying to make it clear that it’s only closeness and body warmth you seek. You leave it there, and it stays there, out of its own free will. A thumb brushes over your ribs, explorative. His eyes travel, they move down the line of your neck and try to decide what you might want from him, but then you see the fathomless depths he’s been hiding. His eyes come alive, and there’s such darkness there, an unquenchable well of want that shoots fear straight down your stomach.

You were wrong about him, so wrong…

He’s not disinterested, he’s just been holding back a tide as if it’s no big deal to fight back the very gods on his own.

His palm feels like fire, but he doesn’t move, only battles with his demons for a while. You lie there before him, feeling utterly idiotic for thinking he’s different from the rest of the men.

But then… The fur gets drawn over your half naked body. Slowly, deliberately. He’s not reverent: he only knows the consequences of his actions, and this is a path he does not wish to take.

It doesn’t prevent him from laying himself down to sleep next to you, however.

It doesn’t prevent you from slowly reaching an arm around him, the rigid form that slowly, so slowly turns lax. You risk to curl against him: not safe, only warm. A stray royal cat and a ghoul who collects bones, you think, but then the ghoul sighs and turns. You should feel rejected from the way he presents his back to you, but you suspect that it has something to do with him coming alive downstairs.

And you cling to him.

He doesn’t rip you off of him as you slip a hand under his arm and bend against him, like a river otter who just found a fat clam. His solemn breaths lull you to sleep, and he stays still for you: all night until the birds start to sing and the sun warms your face, the whole heap of you two.

Like a big pile of snow, melting on a summer’s day…

[catscidr]

Ghost reader with dottore!!?!?

Ilysm

BOO haha gotem. did i get you ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, dottore is tired and maybe a little ooc, established relationship kinda? not proofread. for plot purposes pretend that sign language doesn't exist and or that neither dottore nor reader know it lmaosghfns includes: gn!reader, dottore, pantalone is mentioned at the end wc: 1,5k

Being a ghost had its perks. One, you could phase in and out of tangible objects at your own whim- made it infinitely easier to tease and annoy Dottore. It’s not like he could push you away if you were to poke his face repeatedly, anyways. 

Two, you had freakishly good night-vision. It lined up with the doctor’s schedule- since he always worked late into the hours of the night you could hang around him and, in turn, entertain yourself by wreaking havoc in his lab (havoc meaning knocking over an empty, plastic container when he wasn’t paying attention to you). 

However, being a ghost also utterly sucked ass sometimes. 

For one, you couldn’t speak. Occasionally you’ll let out a quiet, hushed noise of surprise whenever Dottore caught you off guard or threw something at you, but you couldn’t communicate with him properly. Your main mode of communication was, for the most part and for lack of better words, miming and charades. That in it of itself wasn’t too hard to do since you grew to become incredibly expressive during your time as a ghost, but it required Dottore to look at you (thank the Seven he could see you), which he, in petty revenge, would sometimes refuse to do. 

“Sweetheart, I’m busy. I’ve been busy for a while, and I need you to let me focus,” he says in a firm but calm tone, muffled by a dust mask. It would have sent shivers down your spine if you had one, but you don’t, so instead you roll your eyes at him, floating next to him to peek at what he was doing. 

Sparks flew and sharp, stinging sounds irritating your ghostly eardrums echoed through your body, but it wasn’t enough for you to give up on pestering him. 

It’s not like you could do much, anyways. 

Moving objects could take a lot out of you depending on their weight, volume and size. Pushing a pencil was easy enough, throwing one was just as effortless, but moving something like a desk was harder, considerably so. 

Despite his apparent dislike for you, Dottore enjoyed your company, more than others. Being around someone that wasn’t afraid of him, that treated him like a friend made his cold heart thaw. It’s something he would never admit with his words, too prideful and stubborn to voice out loud, but it didn’t mean that there weren’t any other ways for him to portray his love for you. 

You poked the large metal mechanism he was working on, a loud bonk echoing in the pristine lab. It drew him out of his thoughts, gloved fingers stiffening around the soldering iron he held. 

Nothing moved out of place, but the action was enough for him to peel his gaze away from the two pieces of metal he was soldering together to glare at your semitransparent, floating figure. He says your name with a quiet growl, the word rolling off his tongue in a silent threat. 

“If you keep distracting me, I’ll keep the lab’s curtains open and start working during the day.” he huffs, pushing his security goggles up to rest atop his head to rub his eyes. Dark circles decorated his eyes, the urge to go to sleep for hours at a time constantly present in the back of his mind. 

Your face contorts in an expression akin to one of betrayal, brows pinched together as you freeze in place, your pointer finger hovering just inches away from the machine. Quickly, you’re at Dottore’s side once again, a gust of cold air chilling his skin as a result of your proximity. He pays no mind to it, simply unfurling his sleeves to cover the goosebumps on his scarred forearms. 

You want to ask what he’s working on, what exactly this big chunk of iron and copper is doing in his lab. Why he has safety goggles and a dust mask instead of his usual crow mask, why he’s so much less receptive to your shenanigans than usual. While mulling over your questions, the Harbinger walks off, leaving you alone with your thoughts- but not for long. 

He comes back and takes a seat on the stepladder he was previously on, clicking his pen, slouching forward and leaning his chin on his free hand. You snap your attention back at him- your heart would flutter at the sight if you still had one. 

Dottore sat with his legs spread comfortably, crimson eyes unobscured by his mask, hair pulled back loosely with a few rogue strands falling over his face as he looked at you with his chin in his hand, twirling his pen absentmindedly. You wonder if ghosts are able to- 

“Have you ever tried to possess something?” 

The doctor’s question catches you off guard. You shake your head quickly, your attention definitely piqued. 

“...do you remember being able to possess anything?” he adds, his left brow raised. 

You shake your head again, this time after a slight pause as a sheepish expression adorns your features. Being a ghost meant you had a pretty bad memory, considering your lack of a brain and of, well, everything. You weren’t fortunate enough to have a good memory, being an entity made up purely of elemental energy. 

Your answer seemed to please Dottore as he writes down something on his notepad, scribbling quickly. If you remembered one thing, it’s that you knew you couldn’t read his handwriting purely for the fact that it was impossibly messy. Your brain wasn’t at fault, not this time. 

He looks back up at you. “Do you have an idea of how you could possess an object?” 

Again, you shake your head slowly after a short pause to think about his question. However, your face beams into a bright smile as you give him a thumbs up and a nod of your head. You point at yourself with your thumb, expression changing into something more boastful and confident. 

“You think you can do it?” he asks with the ghost of a smile, amused by your antics. His behaviour was definitely strange, but you paid no mind to it, just happy to see him smiling again since he didn’t seem to do it much nowadays. 

You gesture to yourself with both hands, pointing to your lower body that dissipated into nothingness, silently saying I’m a ghost, that’s what we’re supposed to do. 

He understands despite your lack of a voice and chuckles softly. 

Without another second to waste you float closer to the mass of metal Dottore was working on, analyzing and pondering what to do. Were you supposed to, like, chant something before going inside of it? Despite being an undead spirit, you had only used your ghostly powers to annoy Dottore. Possession wasn’t on the list. 

Figuring that you had nothing to lose, you try to phase yourself into the machine. Your ‘body’ felt like it suddenly weighed a ton and you felt cold, incredibly so. You didn’t know what you were seeing, eyesight blurred and blacked out around the corners as if you had glaucoma at the same time. It was dark inside of the lab, dark enough that your eyesight should be relatively normal. Caught up in your thoughts you fail to see Dottore rapidly taking notes as he looked up at his creation. 

Abruptly, you feel yourself getting ‘ejected’ from whatever state you were in. Your head spins and you hear a faint crash, though you don’t register it as being related to what you just experienced. 

Dottore calls out your name, the sound being much more pleasant to your ears than the previous loud noise despite his voice sounding just as rough. You blink repeatedly, focusing your gaze on him as he says your name again. 

“Are you okay?” he asks with furrowed brows, free hand raised up awkwardly in the air as if to hold your shoulder- forgetting that he can’t. You look at him and nod slowly, though your head felt impossibly tight, your body was readjusting to being so small in comparison to what you had just attempted to possess. 

He jots down something else as he observes your state. 

While he writes down whatever you take the opportunity to look around, noticing the hunk of metal now laid horizontally on the crushed tiles of the lab, dust settling in the cracks. You panic, hands flailing and gesturing at high speed, profusely apologizing to Dottore in your own way. 

He ignores your frazzled state and simply shrugs, expression back to being stern again since you seemed to be relatively okay. 

“I don’t care about the floor; you just successfully possessed a ruin guard. The state of my lab is the least of my worries,” he declares without taking his eyes off of his notepad. 

You stop your movements to look at him, then at what he had just called a ruin guard. If it used to be sitting upright and it was now on its side, then... 

“The banker’ll pay for the damages. We’ll have you practicing your ability to possess things. There’s room for improvement,” he says with a curl of his lips, looking up at you with a glint of mischievousness and something else you couldn’t put your transparent finger on. You nod happily, relieved to be able to make him grin again. 

If there’s anything you remembered, it was how much you loved to see the doctor smile. 

[teethoftheeditor3]

Man I haven't written in forever. But this is kinda sparked by @shalomniscient constantly talking about Feixiao and also me loving her design.

I haven't been able to play HSR in a while, and haven't been wanting to but I am hoping I'll be able to get her. 5 Star Tingyun takes priority though.

Anyway. Maybe OOC, I haven't even finished Penacony.

I've been thinking about Delinquent!Feixiao recently, thanks Sev. Delinquent perhaps not being the right word… but it's the closes I can come up with. Think a University AU inspired by the manga Destroy it All and Love Me in Hell.

More specifically delinquent!Feixiao being paired with Model.Student!Reader for a partners assignment. Immediately after class you flag her down to trade contact information, flinching as she whips around and levels her appraising gaze on you. Your words die on your tongue long before you can get them out. You'd never been one to see yourself as meek or easily intimidated, but something about Feixiao's presence makes you feel small. Like a mouse cornered by a fox.

Maybe it's her height, the way she towers over you so you have to tilt your head to look her in the eyes. Or it could be her build, well defined muscles and broad shoulders barely hidden with a tight fitting tank top. Or maybe her eyes, a blue brighter than the sky that glow even in broad daylight. Most likely it's her reputation, of which you only know the little that managed to reach your ears despite or perhaps because you'd had a couple classes together. Something about getting into fights with guys on the football team. And winning.

Whatever it is, it's not enough to keep you from trading cells and emails before dashing off, saying you're late for your next class which you don't have. Your flight only makes you curse whatever came over you, how are you supposed to work with Feixiao if just talking for a few moments intimidates you that badly?

It turns out, you didn't have to worry. Over the next week you tried six times to organize a time to meet in the library, and six times she never showed up. The first couple times you texted her thinking she'd just be late, only for her to blow you off, or worse, leave the text on read and leave you to wait futilely. Feixiao doesn't even attend class most of the time, so you have no ways of confronting her in person. After a week, you started getting fed up. Might as well go to the rec center to blow off some steam.

And who do you bump into on the way in but Feixiao herself. Seeing her does nothing to cool your head, if anything you're even more incensed that she'd been leaving you to work alone all week, only to be at the fucking gym. Even her intimidating presence from the only other time you spoke to her didn't seem to effect you. Your hand tightens into a fist as you just glare up at the tall woman, towel around her neck and her skin adorned with a slight sheen of sweat. Her cool gaze raking over you triggered an impulse you'd never had. Before you even realized what happened, you'd already swung your fist.

The regret hits somewhere between the moment you make contact with her jaw and when you notice the pain running up your arm. You freeze, dumbstruck with shame and guilt at the sight of her tilted head. Feixiao's lips curl into a wide grin, her head turning to reveal a dangerously excited glint in her eye. Feixiao moves with a blur, you're frankly not even aware of it until the pain splinters out from your jaw. For a split second everything goes blurry, the moment extending out to feel like dozens of seconds.

The next thing you know you're jolting awake.

Soft. That's the fist thing that comes to mind. Then white. Your vision is filled with a sterile white room. Finally, pain. Your jaw thrums with a dull ache, same with the back of your head, and the fingers on your dominant hand hurt like hell. The steady beep of an EKG lets you know you're in some sort of medical facility, though you don't remember anything after impulsively punching Feixiao. She must have knocked you out, which you might have deserved for taking a swing at her.

Suddenly you're aware of an intense gaze on you, almost as if its trying to see through you into your very being. Sitting in the corner of the room is Feixiao, looking up from the stack of books she was reading to stare at you with her luminous irises. You're torn between begging for forgiveness and demanding an explanation as to why she left you to do your project on your own. You decide to apologize first, though Feixiao breaks the silence with an amused huff before you can.

"If you're gonna take a swing at me, you could at least know how to throw a punch. I was looking forward to a good time."

[kaeyas-beloved]

Class 1-A with reader who's a high school detective? Or rather, UA's secret high school detective? Kinda like with Detective Conan! She helps the police solve cases, which she always gets right not through any Quirk but through logic and smarts. It's possible that she has a lot of excuse notes if she's ever late for school, or if she has to leave early to help with an extremely serious case. I bet a bunch of kids will be jealous until they figure out the reason behind her absences,

Characters: Class 1A

Genre: General/Humor/Fluff + Fic/Bulletpoints

CW: gn!reader (you/your/they/them)

a/n: 1) I've never actually watched Detective Conan (yet)! Is it any good? 2) This idea kinda grew on me when I started writing this, I think it's a really cool idea. Thank you for requesting anon, I'm really sorry for the long wait and I hope you enjoy! (and sorry for any OOCness, it's been some time since I watched BnHA but I still wanted to finish this)

Class 1A w/ a Secret Detective Reader

"Heyyyy it's (L/N)! On time for once are ya?" instantly your head snapped up at the cheerful call, blond hair with a streak of black catching your eye. Finishing off a note within the margin, you straighten and stretch for the first time in what felt like weeks. Both hearing and feeling that oh so satisfying pop you relax, offering the male and the group behind a tired smile. Briefly, you couldn’t help but wonder how Kaminari (and honestly everyone else) had so much energy this early in the morning. Though, upon remembering that they don't spend hours pouring through case files you brush the thought away quickly.

"Hmph, that's a first," the spiky, rough-around-the-edges ash blond tuts. You pay his comment no mind, something between a tired huff and a laugh passes through your lips, it's not like he's wrong.

"Heh, the world must be ending." Though you spoke in nothing but a mutter most heard your follow up. Good natured laughter fills the room, you included in its chorus.

It’s no secret that you're tardy more often than not. At the beginning, most didn’t know how to interpret your routine of a flimsy excuse notes in hand and a rushed apologizing. Were you not used to early morning classes? Traffic hold you up? Are you late on purpose perhaps?

“No, no and no,” you reassured one afternoon. Then why? someone asked, to which you left them with a flamboyant “I'm saving the world!” Everyone was quick to drop it back then - not out of respect, but because they knew if they're getting a dumb, zealous answer like that then they can kiss a real answer goodbye.

Of course, behind the scenes many were dying to know your real reasons. They theorized, sharing their thoughts with one another when you aren’t around. Hell, Kaminari, Mina, Sero and a select few all going as far as to make a post it board, red sting tying info together and all. After all, if Aizawa is always there, ready to deliver a quick and light scolding the second you try to sneak to your seat mid-lesson, it can't be that bad, right? Unfortunately, to this day your secret remains shrouded in mystery.

Your sly joke from mere moments ago sparked a large, seemingly never-ending conversation with the class. In your defense, you did try to stay on task, but really, how could you not spend some time with your friends? Not to mention that it's been far too long, the police and UA keeping you busy. A break is just what you need to stay in tip-top shape.

Attention pulled far from your gloomy detective work, the atmosphere felt light, carefree within the room as everyone talked and had fun. A welcomed change.

The rolling of the classroom doors puts an abrupt stop to the merriment. Being around long enough to know the routine, every teen made their way to their respective seats.

Aizawa said nothing at first, standing dead in his spot in the doorway. No one dared to whisper their concerns about if something happened, but it was safe to say everyone felt on edge.

Finally, he speaks, "(L/N)."

At once their world came to a screeching halt, twenty pairs of eyes darting between yourself and the teacher. Other than when you're late, you never get called out right off the bat, never mind the tone used.

Silence stretched on for several agonizing seconds, not one soul making a sound. Tension only rose when a few caught sight of the police chief out in the hall, additional officers on either side.

Shock morphs into fear. What's happened? Are you in trouble? Have you done something wrong? Got mixed up with the wrong crowd? With each new thought that pops up in their minds a disgustingly familiar feeling grows, threatening to consume them whole. Just as a group of students open their mouths to finally say something, defend your innocence, demand answers, the squeak of your chair being pushed back cuts it all off.

…How are you so calm?

Clear as day you appear unbothered. As if it doesn't appear that your arrest is upon you. So, is it just a cover? A way to hide the fear pumping through your system?

As you stand and walk further and further away from them all, Aizawa hot on your heels, the class is left to wonder if history is repeating. Are they about to be so paralyzed that they'll fail to protect a friend once more?

"Don't do anything stupid. We'll be back shortly," Aizawa's gruff voice says and the door shuts.

-- --

They're already planning your prison break, the sweethearts <3

Most rationale has left the room since no explanation makes sense other than worst-case :/

It's Bakugou - who just so happens to sit next to you - and all his smarts that loudly demands everyone to "calm the hell down", quickly adding that "they're not going to jail you cry-babies, they work for them."

Of course that does nothing to remedy the situation. What does Bakugou know? It takes the ash-blond shoving your discarded case documents into everyone's unsuspecting faces for them to believe him.

Cue a loud chorus of "THEY'RE A DETECTIVE!?" Which is true, you are in fact a detective. Or, a part-time one at least, if the scrawled Detective Work in your writing was anything to go by. Safe to say some of your closest friends are somewhat hurt you didn't tell them. Don't worry they get over it quickly, they've plenty of time to harass you, seeing as you’ve just walked back into the room.

And seeing how everyone is staring at you, multiple papers scattered between the group it's not hard to piece things together.

"The cat's outta the bag I suppose," you get ready for the storm that's coming your way, sitting back down and taking a deep breath.

No teaching was done that day.

Like most reveals that happen, things settle back to normal after a week. Now instead of getting asked why you were late your friends are asking for all the juicy details of your case (none of which you can actually tell them). Doesn't stop some from asking every time though,,,,

Feel free to talk to them seriously. You might not be able to tell them much, but if you're in a slump and need to talk it out with someone they're more than willing to listen. You'll either figure it out on your own or they'll end up saying something that makes everything click :)

You're no longer just UA's detective but Class 1-A's personal super sleuth now. Something's missing? Better call Sherlock Holmes. And with this bunch, you're going to get called a lot. You could make a profit if you started to charge them :|

I can definitely see them bringing you snacks/meals and something to drink if you're stuck working long hours or late into the night <3 Like they'll see your light on and they'd make sure to stop by the kitchen just so they can drop off something for you on their way back.

Stressful or upsetting case? These guys are the best at distracting you. Bakusquad will drag you out to play some video games in one of their rooms or at an arcade. If that's not something you're into or you're not in the mood you can always train with someone and let out some steam that way. Or or or the girls will gladly take you out shopping with them!

Many are more than willing to help you catch up on classwork. They understand that balancing class, being a detective for the school and an internship is no easy task

If you're ever gone for a long period of time because your work takes you out of town or something be ready for a warm welcome back and hugs the moment you walk through the door :)

Oh, and you're absolutely right Anon, no less than 80% of the class is jealous you get to leave early and they remain that way even after learning why lol. "Oh to be a detective and get to leave early!" Literally all of them at one point or another with their own way of saying it.

Tag list: @tickotaku // @decora-peaches // @dorkylittleweirdo // @thylocalcrackhead // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @unidentifiedzombie // @lordbugs // @akiria12167

. . .

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[winterwhisperz-blog]

Hey ☽ ! I loved reading your recent ask posts and wanted to know if you could write something with a MC (gn or male whatever makes you more comfortable) filling their sketchbook with drawings of Ais or Kuras (or both if you're inspired enough) and them reacting to it, please ?👉🏽👈🏽 Cute bonus if they draw small details only an attentive observer would notice hehe 👀

Thanks have great day ! >:)

EEEEEEE! Yes!! This is such a cute idea so tysm for the ask !! Also tysm im so happy you liked the other headcanons, and I hope you have a great day too !! <3

ALR

LES GET STARTED

Ais And Kuras Reacting to an Mc’s Sketches of them

Warnings: None 😙 —though Ais does get a lil flirty in his

Notes: Gn Mc, fluff, maybe OOC but imma try my best— also not proof-read

Ais

ALR ALR ALR SO

This one is kinda inspired by that one scene in across the spiderverse- because I’m also kinda obsessed with that movie—

Things have come up, things that have been taking you from Ais for longer than comfortable. You miss his laugh, smile, the way his eyes roam over yours and how he speaks and just generally -exists-

So one night, when you need comfort, you get out your sketchbook and pencil, and just start drawing. You don’t mean to draw him at first, but suddenly the lines start to sharpen into his features, his smile looking back at you through the paper

Suddenly your filling up pages of pages of just random Ais sketches. Him petting Princess, him lounging about his cave, you even chuckle to yourself when you draw the first time you ever saw him. (You casually name that one: The Bastard—lmao)

When you finally meet Ais again, and have gone back to your usual routine of hanging out—he’s settled nearby, a few smaller soulless nestled into his lap.

It’s definitely something you don’t want to forget—and thankfully, you’ve got your sketchbook with you.

As your sketching, you’re trying to be sneaky, keeping your glances to a minimum. But your eyes tend to linger, capturing the strands of black hair that shifts to white, the sharp red eyes, the -tired- red sharp eyes.

No one really notices the tiredness in them, but you do. Along with every thought and voice that parades endlessly behind their ruby curtains.

They’re kind, but haunted—exhausted.

But they always still light up when seeing you.

“Hmm, looks nice.”

You jump at the sound of his voice, his breath tickling your ear.

You instantly snap the book shut, but it’s too late. Ais is already smirking. His hands up in mock surrender as you shoot him a nasty, embarrassed glare.

“Easy, sparrow. Wasn’t going to judge.”

Your shoulders slowly relax, and since he’s being nice—nice enough—you eventually do decide to show him. A warmth of pride blooming in your chest at his expressions, both amazed, impressed, oddly enough— a bit shy.

Once he’s finished, he sets himself in front of you, relaxing his shoulders, tilting his chin in a cheeky grin. As he holds it—you finally realize he’s posing.

“looked like you enjoyed drawing me.” He explains once you raise a brow. You scoff, but it -is- a lovely pose. Would be a shame if it were wasted.

As you sketch, he lets out a breath. “You’re good at expressions,”

“Yours are easy to read.”

That earns a bit of a chuckle, before he raises a brow. An idea sparking in his gaze. Uh oh.

“Mm, yeah? Well—“ he shifts, eyes sliding up and down your figure before they latch unto your face. Taking in every last detail with some kind of burning. Like coals set aflame. His gaze makes you feel like glass, a thin white sheet that he looks straight through. Revealing things underneath. “—tell me what this one means.”

With that, heat goes to your cheeks, and a thin line of pencil scratches the paper as you toss it at his now, laughing face.

“Damn bastard.”

AAAAAAAAAAA

OKAY THAT WAS PROBABLY CRINGEY BUT THATS OKAY

NOW UNTO KURAS 😇

Kuras

OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY SO SO SO SO SO

You two are on your daily stroll, the evening painting golds and bubblegum pinks across the usually dreary sky.

Birds, dusty grey and white flock toward him, some even landing on his head before he politely shoos them off. A smile lifting his lips as you snicker.

“They must mistake you for a tree.” You tease, earning a small chuckle.

Eventually, you near the area you always walk to—a small, old wooden bench that looks over the wastelands. Doesn’t make for the best scenery, but it’s that or the bustling city.

As you sit, you pull your art supplies from your bag, Kuras opening a book beside you.

ALSO HES WEARING HIS GLASSES AAAA

You start sketching the sky, a breeze tossing strands of your hair into your face and making the task rather difficult.

As you huff, Kuras glances your way, a smile playing at his lips as he gently tucks your hair behind your ear—fingers just barely brushing your jaw as he pulls away.

You can’t help but stare, a bit flustered at the gesture. And as he returns to his book, you watch as the golden light gleams over his features, turning his eyes into two, small suns.

A few birds have returned as well, perching either nearby, or on his shoulders.

An opportunity, an art piece you cannot miss.

You quickly ditch the sky drawing and start sketching Kuras instead. His towering form, the golden teardrop underneath his eye, the waves of his dark hair—and the way he holds himself, so regally, refined—but still somehow, with a small playful air that would go unnoticed by many.

But not unnoticed by you.

The sky darkens as you finish, and you hear Kuras close his book, slowly standing. A soft palm reaches your shoulder before freezing.

You look up to see Kuras, eyes wide with wonder as he slides his glasses back onto his nose. Taking a closer look.

Feeling both excited and a bit nervous, you clear your throat from probably an hour of not speaking. “Do you like it?”

He reaches for your sketchbook, “May I?”

When you nod, he gently takes it from your hands, looking over the picture like it were some complicated medical drawings.

You don’t have time to stop him as he then searches through the rest of the sketches, the wonder brightening up his expression—you can’t help but feel amused—it’s almost like he’s a child seeing snow for the first time. “You drew all of these?” He asks, hesitantly giving you the book back.

You nod, standing beside him.

“It’s…I’ve never seen anyone draw the world like you do.” He glances away before regaining himself. “Could you teach me?”

EEEEEEEE

yes Kuras I will teach you <33

ALR

I rlly hope you enjoyed that !! Sorry if they were OOC, I’ve been kinda scattered recently. But these were sO MUCH FUN

Tysm again for the ask 😭

And I hope you have an amazing day, find your favorite color in nature, smell your favorite flower, and enjoy the sunset !!

[aokoaoi]

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐢 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫. ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ

pairings : big sister!shuri x fem!reader x big brother!t'challa

warnings : ooc characters(?).

authors note : this is not a ship fanfic. everything is completely platonic, just pure sibling relationship<3.

GROWING UP !

— you were only 2 years younger than shuri, so of course, it wasn't difficult for you two to get along.

— compared to your sister, you didn't have very strong ambitions. But even so, you were taught how to rule a nation by your mother when you were younger, and when you were prepared enough, she took you to train to be a Dora Milaje member.

— you were a fairly calm and obedient child back then, and even since you grew into a fine woman.

— you didn't have an interest in fighting whatsoever, but it did cross your mind that you'd end up needing the skills to fight. But you didn't complain and go against your mother.

— there weren't that much things that interested you as a kid. Your sister and brother often picked on you(playfully) for it.

— shuri even tried to get you to be interested in her ambitions, saying that it's 'fun' and 'an opportunity to learn something new'.

— you weren't adventurous, smart like shuri, nor would you be strong like t-challa. Sometimes, as you grew older, you think if you could've done something more than just train to be in an elite group. But despite those, something sparked inside you and motivated you to be the strongest amongst all the members of the Dora Milaje.

BONDING WITH SHURI !

some big brother t'challa scenes<3

— it's awfully loud when there's two of you in the same room. Like seriously, it's just filled with Shuri laughing at your jokes. Everyone sees you as 'the calmer one of the siblings' but boy.. when you're with those 'siblings' its like someone released a whole mammal out their cage.

— despite not understanding half she's saying, you still go visit shuri in her lab to keep her company. She's just yapping to you about what she's doing, while you just nodded, pretending like you understood what the hell she's saying.

•   "(name)? Are you listening or no?"

•   "I am. But I don't understand."

•   "It's fine, at least you're listening."

— whenever her brother is doing something, or is busy, you'd be the one training her some fighting abilities. You aren't as skilled like your brother, goodness no, he's the black panther for Pete's sake, but you are strong. Somewhat.

— shuri always supports and cheers for you whenever you're about to go to your training. Boy, the proudness she felt when she was told that you were slowly beginning to be more skilled the passing days. She's not lying, Okoye said it herself.

— tackles you in hugs almost everytime she's overly enthusiastic to see you.

•   "Stop that. You act like our rooms aren't next to eachother."

•   "I missed you!"

•   "we see eachother everyday!"

— okay but listen to this. The over protectiveness that randomly summoned inside her when she heard that you were getting marriage proposals.

"atrocious!" You and your mother deadpanned at her reaction, side eyeing eachother blankly. "(name), whatever you must do, do not even look at those proposals, okay?!"

— yeah it was a wild experience.

— besides that, shuri is a great sister. She loves you but literally acts like she's the youngest. Seriously, you mightve heard that she's older and you're younger, but when you see these two and know the personally, you'll end up doubting yourself.

— even your own brother said it himself.

•   "Shuri, stop clinging onto your sister like a wild monkey climbing up a tree."

•   "What?"

•   "brother said to stop climbing me like you're a monkey."

— ooh, have I mentioned that you're a great dancer? If not, you're a very great dancer! Dora Milaje members are probably all great dancers if you must say so yourself.

— growing up, shuri was probably your favorite person who ever walked the soil of earth. And then your brother follows right behind her, and then your parents, and then—

— when it's the three of you combined, it's like the whole definition of the word 'chaos'. In the end of the day, T'challa is tired as hell, Shuri went to drain more of her energy in her lab work, and you? Already fell asleep.

— despite being a whole menace the three of you were, mama Ramonda and papa T'chaka were proud of what you three have achieved.

i am very tired<\3 still figuring out my layouts for headcanon posts, so this one is kind of messy rnn. this is also my first time writing about sibling relationships, especially in readers pov so I'm sorry if it's cringey oml😭

[deathxcko]

i lived, bitches

[writer-freak]

Crackling Tension | Childe x Gn reader College AU

Summary: The undeniable tension between you and Childe had to snap one day and that day was finally here. 

The headcanons and the fic are separate and aren't intended to play in the same universe

Warnings: gn reader, modern au, college au, have never played genshin so could be ooc, fluff, kissing, english isn't my first language

A/n: Wrote this for my bestie's birthday but personally I don't really know anything about genshin, still tried my best because he is my bestie's fav character. I wasn't very confident in writing him so I did some headcanons and also a little fic (they are not really related to each other)

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more

Childe as a Roommate (college Au):

Childe is that roommate who's always out partying

Whether it's a random weeknight or the weekend, you can bet he's got some plans or is trying to convince you to join him

His room is always cluttered with sports gear, gym bags, and probably a couple of questionable protein shakes

He's the guy who's always hitting the gym or asking you to come along for a workout, claiming it's a great stress reliever

Childe loves cooking, and surprisingly, he's good at it

Expect to come back to the smell of some mouthwatering food he's whipped up for the both of you.

And yes, he will brag about his cooking skills

There's a constant stream of friends coming and going from your shared apartment. Childe is social and has a wide circle of friends, so your place becomes the unofficial hangout spot

He's a bit messy but somehow manages to charm his way out of any cleaning responsibilities. You'll often find yourself picking up after him, but he'll make it up by treating you to his latest cooking experiment

Childe is surprisingly good with plants. He has a couple of potted ones in the shared living space, and he's convinced they respond better to his presence

You're not entirely sure if that's true, but you don't mind the greenery

His music taste is all over the place, one moment, you're hearing classical music and the next, it's heavy metal

Childe says that he believes in appreciating all genres

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

The atmosphere around Childe and you crackled with an undeniable tension, one that seemed to intensify with each day of your college life. From the moment Childe decided to sit in the seat next to you, the spark between you two was inevitable.

It all began innocently enough, with friendly exchanges and polite smiles. However, Childe's teasing nature couldn't be suppressed for long. He can't recall the specifics of that day, the one where he shifted from pleasant banter to outright teasing. All he remembered was the scowl that adorned your face in response, and for some reason, that scowl did something to him.

From that moment on, Childe made it a point to tease you relentlessly. It became a daily routine, a game of cat and mouse where he was the mischievous feline and you were the feisty mouse. The scowl on your face only seemed to fuel his determination, and your responses, though annoyed, held a subtle hint of something more.

The teasing became a dance, an unspoken agreement between two individuals who refused to acknowledge the magnetic pull drawing them closer. It wasn't just about the words exchanged, it was about the charged glances, the stolen moments when your eyes locked, and the unspoken understanding that lingered in the air.

Onlookers couldn't help but notice the palpable tension. Friends whispered about the chemistry, the undeniable attraction that hung between you two like an electrified thread.

Yet, neither of you were ready to admit it. Pride and uncertainty danced hand in hand, keeping the unspoken truth buried beneath layers of playful banter.

Then came the night of the frat house party. The air was thick with anticipation as the music played in the background.

Childe, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist pushing the boundaries. The teasing took a different turn that night, the playful banter evolving into something charged with desire. Perhaps it was the dim lights or the energy of the party, but the tension that had been building finally reached its breaking point.

Childe's teasing became more daring, and your scowls began to transform into smirks and witty responses. Amid the crowded party, the world around you faded into background noise.

It started with hands wandering, you don't even remember how you ended up in a corner together with Childe.

But it didn't matter how you ended here, the only thing important for you was to finally feel his lips on yours.

Childe on the other hand wanted to prolong the teasing for just a little longer, seeing you so desperate was his favorite look on you.

Instead of connecting your lips with each other he purposefully stayed away from them deciding to ghost his lips around your ear.

While he continued his ministrations, you knew that there was a way to finally make him buckle. You leaned closer to him and breathily said his name into his ear, and that just snapped something inside of him.

The tension that had defined every one of your interactions finally found release in the searing heat of that unexpected kiss, leaving both of you breathless.

As the kiss deepened, the world outside of your moment faded into the background. The music became a distant echo as you and Childe started to completely get lost in the moment. His hands found home on your waist, drawing you closer, while the teasing glint in his eyes transformed into a more earnest hunger.

For a moment, everything melted away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered desire that had simmered beneath the surface for so long.

Childe's lips moved against yours with a fervor that mirrored the intensity of the tension that had led to this moment. Every touch, every sigh, became a testament to the unspoken connection that you finally expressed.

In this moment you completely lost yourself, intoxicated by the feeling of Childe against you.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[m1d-45]

Yo, mid, i know its very late for me and i just am trying to sleep while its fucking COLD, i had a thought jolt me awake from my dozing.

How hot do pyro's run? I do know that some people CANON it to be true that pyro users have high body heat, but is it like africa versus the northpole or something like that?

Cuz i currently desire a personal heater snugglebug.

Goodnight.

-🥘Stew

warmth

a/n: could be read as sagau, could be taken as just regular genshin. this kinda devolved from the ask but… eh? only diluc and thoma are ‘x reader’s, the others are mostly character studies.

word count: 2.1k

-> warnings: n/a! minor spoilers for character lore, i suppose? xinyan may be slightly ooc? mentioned xingqiu x chongyun in hu taos part?

-> gn reader! (you/yours)

characters: diluc, bennett, klee, amber, xinyan, xiangling, yanfei, hu tao, yoimiya, thoma, in that order :) the traveller is mentioned but isn’t specified (they/them, no names)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily

< masterlist >

mmm it honestly depends on your opinion, but i personally am pretty guilty of imagining myself a diluc to hold onto when i’m cold, so i’d say there’s at least a bit of a difference.

i heard from the first golden apple archipelago event that diluc apparently melted kaeya’s icebridge (citation needed), so that pretty much confirms that a significant level of difference is present between pyro users and the general public. however, it was still summer and assuming diluc was still wearing his giant coat, they must be at least vaguely immune to overheating/possess some sort of control over it. all this to say that at the bare minimum, diluc wouldn’t mind holding you close during a chilly winter. the winery is prone to chilly hallways, just due to its size, and he stays up late anyway. please, don’t be afraid to go knocking on his door: chances are he’s awake and more than willing to let you in. despite being a pyro wielder, his blankets are large and thick, carrying enough heat to keep you warm while he wraps up his paperwork. you don’t have to stay awake with him if you don’t wish; the sight of you tucked away within his bed is one he wishes to memorize.

i imagine bennett’s high heat has definitely saved him from getting sick when his adventure is ruined by rain (again), keeping him from ever being at risk despite the fact that his clothes are soaked and the path he’s trudging through is muddy. he’s well used to it, but it doesn’t stop his dads from chastising him whenever he returns, directing him towards his room and one of the many, many spare sets of clothing he had. he dries off quickly after showers, his clothes never sticking, and sometimes when his adventure ended well he’ll be glowing, embers in his eyes as he excitedly tells you about it, uncaring of the way some of the dry grass caught in his hair begins to spark. for your sake and his, bring him inside and let him talk to you after you remove the tinder.

klee, younger, likely has a lesser degree of control over her vision. she’s probably prone to hiking up a few degrees when she’s excited, and is often found in albedo’s camp at dragonspine simply due to the fact that she both can easily re-light his fire when the winds blow too hard and he knows she won’t get sick. he sits on his stool, watching his experiment and listening intently to her talk about gunpowder. when snow washes in and puts out the measly store of wood collected in the middle of his lab, it barely registers before she’s collected pyro in her palms and shot it neatly to the center of the pile. any moisture vaporizes, the flames licking higher than they normally would.

amber has a better control over her vision than most would expect from somebody so young. her vision hangs off her belt and only barely glows a bit brighter when speaking about the knights, her gloves waving animatedly as she tells some tale of the cavalry captain’s newest scheme. he comes up, hearing all gossip in the city and doubly so that which pertains to him, but even the hiss of cryo doesn’t dampen her emotions. she ignores the hand he puts on her shoulder and simply puts hers on her hips, pretending he isn’t there and continuing about how it’s so irresponsible of him to continue such behavior. he laughs, telling her it’s rude to be so cold, but the way the inside of her gloves grow warm says otherwise. it’s invisible to most, dampened by leather and the many guards of an archer’s arms, but anybody that looks can tell you for certain that the brightest fires in the city are lit by an outrider’s glow, provided only that you ask about her recent expedition.

xinyan is well aware of her loud nature, and learned the hard way not to let it get out of control. pyrotechnics are a large part of her shows, but it took her a while to get there. she loves rock and roll, and performing gives her so much energy- she played barely a day after she received her vision, when her control was weak and her body was still adapting to the change, and the guitar she played then on no longer works now. five dots singe the area around the strings, a large patch where her palm rested sunken into the wood. if you ask about it, she’ll wave you off shyly, unwilling to tell you about how she had to wear heat sinks in a pair of special gloves for a few months. still, just to be certain, she bought a bottle of heat-resistant sealant to brush over her current guitar for her tours. she loves music, loves her shows and doing what she does, and she’s much better at controlling her vision now, but… it’s better safe than sorry, right?

xiangling, similar to bennett, has been saved many times by her heightened body temperature. turns out, it gets incredibly dangerous climbing the spires of liyue since the wind can turn your fingers cold and creaky, making it deadly to try and climb, but she’s never run into that problem. she moves with ease, unfettered by the chill, her sheer enthusiasm seeping into the stone beneath her. when she travelled to mondstat, she passed by a camp near the base of dragonspine and overheard a peculiar recipe, one that required a special kind of ‘chilled meat’. the chef seemed nervous to give her the location, due simply to her clothing, but she set off anyway. needless to say, dragonspine is colder than liyue, and the traveller found her and guoba hunched by a campfire, clearly shivering. they led her off a mountain and with the promise to never return without a proper team (or warmer clothes), they handed her some chilled meat from their inventory. after a bit of further pressing, they taught her how to make goulash. she took excellent notes.

as a lawyer, the last thing yanfei needs is to be hot-headed. the law is slippery, always twisting from her hands, and the ability to grit one’s teeth and stand again after it swipes beneath their feet is one needed in the world of legal advice. ningguang can’t count the amount of times she’s received a letter from her detailing the most recent loophole she’s found, the paper stained with ash around the edges. at first she thought it unprofessional, but after being stopped on the street and quite frankly chastised due to the slow response time when such a matter as the law was concerned…. she understood a little more. her next letter was responded to promptly, and yanfei’s gratitude showed in court, citing one of the tianquan’s letters as proof that a law was changed prior to a merchant’s new policy, not after. as a half-adepti, more power runs through her than most, and she often grows too warm to think in her office. she has measures to counteract this, such as traveling to deal with cases, allowing the wind to wick away her frustration, or simply wearing cooler clothes during the summer. madam ping was the one to suggest the latter, and she lives every day grateful. still, as they share a cup of tea as yanfei rants about a civil case she’s been assigned, yanfei’s mug stays warmer than ping’s for nearly the entire time. thankfully, she prefers her drinks hot anyway, and green tea has always helped take the edge off her irritation.

hu tao is many things, but emotional is not one of them. being a funeral director requires a certain level of coldness to it, as to not let the many deaths a day affect you, and she handles her role quite well. she carries enough respect that her voice is somber when speaking to the families of the deceased, yet doesn’t allow the constant gloom to affect her. perhaps it’s her sense of humor, allowing her to brush it off a bit easier, or perhaps it’s the fact that it’s hard to feel sad when xingqiu is describing his latest escapade with chongyun. the latter is at wanmin, waiting for his popsicles, and hu tao listens with bubbly glee to their most recent tale. it’s funny, how oblivious chongyun can be, and as they sit and swing their legs across the street, the stone beneath her feels less and less warm. they share, they banter, they talk about poetry and all things literary. when their hands knock together xingqiu winces slightly at the heat of her rings, but cools his hand easily enough with a bit of hydro. when chongyun returns, xingqiu takes the small treat he offers her, unwilling to risk him getting singed. chongyun recites what xiangling told him to about her newest creation, and hu tao stifles a grin. the edges of the small napkin begin to darken, but she hardly notices. focused on the slight glaze in xingqiu’s eyes, the funeral director laughs.

working with fireworks with a pyro vision is a risky adventure. yoimiya, who was incredibly cautious about such things and only ever used her vision to light fireworks at first, rarely ever runs into this risk, but it’s on her mind. as the queen of the summer festival—a title that never fails to bring heat to her cheeks, should you mention it—its her responsibility to keep up and maintain the same level of quality year after year, and she is intent on delivering. still, she’s not immune to problems associated with a vision like hers. the small building of naganohara fireworks is one with a rich history, gunpowder and dye embedded between the floorboards, but it doesn’t have the best ventilation. it’s by design, as a stray breeze can ruin a fragile firework, but sometimes she wishes she could have a fan. she loves creating them, enthusiasm sparking whenever she gushes to her father about her latest idea, but when the summer gets hot and the room gets hotter, even one sleeve of a kimono feels like too many. don’t get her wrong, the process of barely singeing a dye so it crackles instead of pops is one far easier with a vision, but when the time finally comes to sit back and let sparks fly, she doesn’t hang around to watch the fuses get lit. instead, she moves somewhere cooler, letting the night breeze cool off her excitement, sitting cross-legged on chilly grass. when the fireworks start and the sky lights up, youmiya glows along with them.

a housekeeper does a lot of things, but starting fires is not typically one of them. both ayato and ayaka prefer cooler weather, the former having the ability to mostly self-regulate, and thoma’s vision mostly went unused. other than occasionally lighting the fire at shimura’s or one of the other food stalls he stopped at, thoma’s days were quiet, free of battle. he was simply a housekeeper, and though he occasionally misjudged the weather and gave ayaka a false impression, they both quickly learned to seek a second opinion. the same was with you. quiet days, mornings spent in a soft sort of haze as he woke up before the sun even on his days off. he didn’t mind, turning to brush away some hairs from your face, but you leaned into his palm, shifting closer. he smiled, one that dissipated when he noticed the goosebumps down your arm, leading beneath the thin sheets. he was confused for a moment, as the room felt fine to him, but he quickly remembered that it wouldn’t be the same to you. with a murmured apology and an arm around your waist, thoma made a mental note to bring thicker blankets for you from the closet. winter was coming and evidently early, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be cold. still, that was a problem for later, for when your skin didn’t warm under his and when the sun was further overhead.

[niki-phoria]

Jealous Chishiya x Male Reader?👉🏻👈🏻

pairing: chishiya x male!reader (no pronouns used but reader wears swim trunks) genre: fluff word count: 1.4k

warnings: slightly ooc chishiya, canon typical violence, blood, haven't written a game in so long, i wrote the first part of this and didn't want to delete it so just skip to past the time skip to see jealous chishiya lol

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i posted something similar to this not that long ago but i tried to keep them different. i really like this idea. i hope you enjoy it :))

requests open !! read my rules first

a light breeze chills your exposed skin. you tug your jacket further over body as you follow chishiya up the steps of the toei sendagaya apartment building. he reaches out to grab a phone, quickly signing in as if it’s second nature before moving to stand near the wall of the building. 

you follow suit, shoving your phone into the pocket of your swim trunks as you stand beside him. chishiya pulls out his altered music player, silently handing you an earphone. you silently take it before taking the opportunity to look at the other players. there aren’t many of them yet - a nervous woman, a drunk man, and a fidgeting college student. the game shouldn’t be too difficult. 

you shove your hands further into your pockets - a habit you picked up from chishiya after months of spending nearly all of your time around him. time seems to move faster than ever as even more people walk up the steps. 

two men are the final players to enter, making the total count 16 people. one of them has bleached blonde hair. he’s wearing a dirty pair of jeans and a thin hawaiian shirt over a gray t-shirt. the other has shaggy black hair and wears a light blue jacket. 

they both step aside from the stairwell. a nervous man in a blue cap approaches them just after their phones ding with a confirmation of them signing in. “excuse me,” he fidgets with his fingers. “could you help me? i’m not sure what’s going on.” 

“oh, you have to play the games to-”

“what are you doing?” the brunette’s friend elbows his ribs. “we don’t know him.” they both shrink away from the man right before the game begins. 

“registration closed. game: tag. difficulty: five of spades. rules: players run away from the ‘tagger’ and try to find a safe room located somewhere in the building. game clear: players press the button in the safe zone. game over: players are killed by the tagger or fail to find the safe zone in time. players have two minutes before the game begins.”

it feels like sparks ignite against your skin when chishiya reaches over to grab your hand. you silently let him lead you along behind him into the elevator and up to the ninth floor. you lean against the railing beside him overlooking the building and the courtyard. “we should be able to see all of the other players from up here.” 

“at least it’s a nice view,” you mumble. 

the game begins slowly enough. only a few stray gunshots ring out in the otherwise peaceful silence of what used to be a bustling apartment building. 

soon, they begin to pick up. you nearly flinch when a woman lets out a shrill scream that’s swiftly cut off by a single bullet. chishiya reaches over to grab your hand when you do, gently squeezing it in his. despite the circumstances it’s a welcome comfort. 

time has always passed quicker when chishiya is with you - even in games when it feels like everything drags. you desperately try to ignore the continuous string of gunshots and the desperate pleas of the other players as they echo in the empty building. chishiya’s thumb strokes against your knuckles as the minutes continue on. 

eventually, he squeezes your hand. “that should be enough time,” he whispers. “come on.” 

you nod, following after him as he leads you to the fourth floor. the safe room looks exactly like the rest except for the bustling you can hear, even from the outside. chishiya gently pushes you out of the way as he slams the door shut before bracing himself against the wall. a new string of gunshots blows through the door - just barely missing you on the other side. 

“there’s two buttons!” a man yells from inside the room. 

“of course,” chishiya scoffs. “are you okay?” 

“i’m alive,” you sigh. “let’s just push the damn buttons.” 

he nods, slowly cracking the door open. a woman has hoisted herself up onto the edge, looking into the room. “here!” he yells before sliding the taser across the floor to her. she’s quick to grab it, pressing it against the tagger’s side. 

their body convulses as it falls to the floor. you grimace at the sight before following chishiya into the room. “the buttons!” the man gasps. he’s quick to launch his body at the button as the woman does the same. you let out a small sigh of relief when you look over at the timer. 00:01.

the tagger sits up from the floor - herr horse mask laying forgotten on the floor beside her. she looks over at the timer in horror before gasping, bringing her hands up to her face. she frantically pulls at the chunky collar around her neck to no avail before you shut your eyes, looking away to avoid seeing her death. 

blood coats the walls and the floor when you open them again. the man rushes out of the room as the woman jumps back down through the building along the balconies. you step closer, kneeling down beside chishiya. he pats her body down before opening the breast pocket. inside is a little slip of paper with a drawing on it: a circle with a mess of lines going through it and overlapping with each other. 

“what do you think it is?” you whisper. 

“i’m not sure,” he replies. “but i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” chishiya reaches over to grab your hand, squeezing it in his. despite all of your worries - you believe him.

chishiya watches from a distance as you laugh with kuina on a beach chair. arisu and usagi sit across from you, also doubled over in laughter - presumably from a joke you told. you’ve always had an ability to make people laugh. 

an uncomfortable, but familiar, feeling crawls into chishiya’s chest. it settles against his ribs, pressing down on his heart. all rationality is forgotten as he continues staring. seconds pass. then minutes. then, his feet are moving on their own - carrying him over to where you are. 

“y/n,” he says. you look up. a small smile spreads across your face when you notice it’s him. “i need your help with something.” 

“okay,” you murmur, turning back to your friends for a moment. “i’ll be right back.” kuina simply waves you off as you stand to follow chishiya back into the beach’s hotel. it’s not uncommon for him to seek you out of a crowd specifically. 

you close the door behind yourself as soon as you enter the familiar room chishiya had turned into a makeshift workshop. he walks over to the side of the room, leaning back against the table. his hands remain deep in his pockets - though he’s not sure if it’s the remnants of a habit or a poor attempt to hide his anxiousness. he sighs, finally forcing the words out. “do you like her?” 

you cock your head at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “who?” 

“kuina.” 

“like… romantically?” you chuckle a little, stepping forwards. chishiya remains silent, gaze fully focused on you. “no, i don’t like kuina. why? are you jealous?” he can feel his face warming just slightly at your question. teasing as it is, it was still enough to fluster him. instead of answering, he watches as you step even closer to him. he can nearly feel your breath as you reach up to stroke a hand against his face. “i like you, chishiya.” 

his breath nearly hitches in his throat. you lean even closer, just barely brushes your nose against his. your eyes flutter closed as chishiya takes the final step to pull you into a sweet kiss. 

it starts soft. your lips barely brush against each other for a few seconds until you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer. chishiya’s hands rest against your hips as he smiles into it. you reciprocate immediately before pulling away with big smiles. 

“i like you too, y/n.” he whispers. 

“good,” you whisper, leaning up to press a final peck against his lips. “i’m tired. come on, let’s go to bed.” 

chishiya stifles a chuckle, letting you tug him along back to your room. “whatever you want, love.”

[onecantsimply]

(Ror) Jack The Ripper - Getting Head

Jack The Ripper Smut-

HHAHAHAHAHA

I’m supposed to be writing an essay but fuck that I can just do it at home- 

I love dropping smuts without a warning lmfao.

Alright I’m ready to get the reader to get railed, or I’m ready to Jack to be the submissive one again while in the bed- 

Also if anyone wants another JTR smut I have plenty in my smut drafts in Wattpad so- Go ahead and ask if you want hh-

NSFW content ahead-

Masturbating, blowjob, mistress thing, and a submissive, but slightly ooc Jack The Ripper are ahead. So have fun if you wish to keep reading- 

(How long do they plan on teasing me...? -Jack)

He faintly grunted, his gloved hand stroking his dick.

(I can't help but wonder... when they'll take me seriously... -Jack)

The male softly leaned his head back, his mind in a haze of thoughts.

He knew how disrespectful it was just to think of (Y/n) as if they were his toy. But with what they did... nothing could prevent this situation from happening. They had given Jack quite a blowjob when he was back from a rough job. And it was definitely pleasing.

-

"Mistress, please...” Jack jolted faintly. "This is my first time doing something like this... Please be a bit more... gentle... It feels faintly sensitive..." (Y/n) pulled the male's rim out with a gentle sigh. "You being sensitive... I thought that was rather obvious from when I gave you that handjob the other week." (Y/n) then softly kissed Jack's tip, the male faintly wincing once he felt a gentle lick to his slit. "Still, I'm not sure if you would want me to slow down. I think you're enjoying more of it." He looked up with a darker blush, the warm sensation around his rim once again swallowing him.

(I can't wait... to take him all in... -(Y/n))

They softly twirled their tongue around Jack's rim while placing their hands on his legs. He shuddered, his hand placing itself on (Y/n)'s head. "Mistress..." Jack couldn’t help but mutter. 

(My goodness... More versions of Heaven that one cannot simply achieve... -Jack)

His dick faintly throbbed before (Y/n) softly traced the veins on it. They softly sucked on Jack's rim, just trailing their gentle touch on his dick. Their eyes could see how it gently throbbed.

(How long will you do this...? Teasing me so much... when I could always just push your head down... -Jack)

His hand gently twitched, the urge to faintly push their head down growing larger.

-

Jack's strokes seemed to get more rough, the male faintly growling from his sparking pleasure. His dick ached for more.

(I will force you to submit somehow... -Jack)

He shuddered at the mere thought of being able to dominate (Y/n). Just seeing their figure covered in slight hickeys and soft cuts from Jack's knife was enough to make him go completely crazy.

(As long as I can be the dominant one at least once... I'll be completely fine with it... -Jack)

His thoughts completely laid itself on (Y/n)'s figure.

(And I'll have you marked with my fucking name on your chest... -Jack)

-

(Fuck... Fuck...! -Jack)

He had his fingers entangled into (Y/n)'s hair, their throat having Jack's entire dick deepthroated. Jack faintly threw his head back. "Mistress, please..." He muttered, gently panting. The male saw (Y/n) look up at him. They faintly winked before going back to their business.

Completely dominating Jack. Clearly, he was embarrassed to be like this-

Still, that warm sensation and their tongue just doing whatever it could... Jack couldn't do it. He couldn't hold himself back.

Jack The Ripper had lost a second time.

-

"I won't... I can't lose next time..." Jack muttered. He looked at his tip, which had a white liquid slowly leaking from it. It throbbed faintly, aching to cum.

(Maybe if they agree to a small session in the bed... -Jack)

His eyes faintly narrowed.

(... I may be able to make them submit... -Jack)

As the male went into his imagination again, his hand got to moving again. Jack shuddered.

(I'll get you soon... I promise... -Jack)

-

The male's eye faintly twitched as (Y/n)'s tongue licked up his weak points. Jack's hand was locked onto their head, not being able to move from the utter pleasure he was in. "Fuck..." He slurred, leaning his head back. The male couldn't think correctly. He was locked into the phase of pleasure, completely vulnerable. "Mis...tress..." Jack muttered. His dick faintly throbbed, ready to release. The male faintly jolted once he felt (Y/n) licking at one of his veins. The shocks of pleasure coursing within his body was only speeding up his release more.

(To think... my stress relief... is this...! -Jack)

He allowed himself to let a growl rip through his throat as his release finally came, (Y/n) swallowing down the male's cum completely. They gently pulled the male out, feeling him gently lift their chin. "... I'll web you with my seed one day..." He muttered. "Hm... Is that so...?" (Y/n) faintly smiled, softly pushing at Jack's slightly softening dick with one finger. "I'm quite sure..." He answered.