#<- never made a proper art tag on here...

[dippersguidetotheunexplained]

ok putting these under a readmore bc theyre old as hell and the art blog i posted them to is deeply cringe to me now but way back forever ago i used to make pixel art of random scenes in gravity falls as like a fake pinesquest screenshot thing which i dont think is a reference most people actually got tbh but anyway. i still think some of them were kind of cute lookit

like theyre a little rough obviously but i still think theyre fun. also heres 2 loose fiddleford sprites as a reward for clicking the readmore

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[cursezoroark]

team Xen Mona…..

[mortellanarts]

2023 go bye bye

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

To love me better

Tags: Yakuza Lord!Sukuna x fem!Reader, american!Reader, forced/arranged marriage, dark romance trope, dead dove, age gap romance (reader is around 21-22, Sukuna is 37) heavy dacryphilia, finger sucking, use of “good girl”, use of pet names, Sukuna is his own warning.

Synopsis: Yakuza Lord!Sukuna owns all of entertainment district. You’re trying to work to put yourself through law school. He has a proposition for you, and you have one for him.

An: I fear that I was going to explode if I didn’t write this. I’ve been in a not good headspace. Blah blah blah school sucks blah blah work sucks blah everything sucks. I’m sorry if this sucks too. Edit - I forgot to mention that this will be a multi-part fic.

Part one. | Part two.

*art creds for sukuna image goes to @.maru6 here on tumblr

Nothing in this life comes for free.

Your father taught you from a very early age to never take handouts from anyone because they’ll always benefit the other person more. He was an immigrant to Japan, and he worked hard for every yen he made.

He instilled that same work ethic in you.

After being hurt on the job from working in a poor environment, your father became very ill. He couldn’t move around as much. Sitting up out of bed made him feel winded. He slowly withered away into a shell of the man who once raised you.

Your mom was long gone. She couldn’t help out, nor did she even want to.

All you were left with was a pile of debt and utter rage. Had your father not been taken advantage of by greedy corporate conglomerates, he would still be here today.

It inspired you to want to go to law school. Your dad should’ve received a hefty settlement check for what he endured from his workplace conditions. The money wouldn’t have solved everything, but it would’ve alleviated some of the stress your dad dealt with in his final days.

You’ll never forget how hoarse his voice sounded while he was on the phone with different agencies, trying to sue that place who forced him into an early grave.

You’ll never forgive them for stealing your dad away.

If you were more ambitious, you’d work to try to change the system entirely, but you knew that wasn’t your fight to face. You wanted to help the already disadvantaged families who were facing injustices beyond their control.

So, you started law school. You were smart enough for it. You had the heart. You just didn’t have a special last name to fund your college tuition. You were a first generation Japanese American in the family. While both your parents were born in America, you were born in Japan, but you were still an outsider.

You were never properly indoctrinated in the culture. Sure, you knew the basics. You knew proper etiquette and appropriate behaviors to live in Japan, but you didn’t understand the layers of how society operated. It was as if you were never assimilated into society as a Japanese citizen.

Your dad wasn’t born here, so he never could explain to you how your last name means everything in this town.

Despite it all, you’d become a lawyer even if you had to bury yourself into debt to do it. You’d work to put yourself through college. You’d do it and bear a smile on your face because you don’t take fucking handouts.

That lead you to becoming a bottle girl at one of the most exclusive clubs in the entertainment district: Malevolent Mass.

The manager said you had the right look, whatever that means. It didn’t matter. He hired you on the spot despite your lack of a substantial last name.

This would be fine. You’d work at night on the weekends and put yourself through school during the day, and you’d keep it a secret from your school, knowing you could lose your position in the prestigious school.

It was a perfect plan, right?

Yes, it was perfect.

Customers seemed to love your polite attitude and warm hospitality. You had quickly made a name for yourself in the few short nights you had worked there.

It was only your second weekend, and your section was full. It was almost comprised entirely of men and their gold digger wives, but you got use to the sexual comments and predatory smiles.

The environment was heavily secured. When you were hired, the managers made sure to show you where security was posted up at every dark corner. They also showed you where cameras were located and assured you that not anyone could just walk into Malevolent Mass.

However, you were well aware that the most dangerous people often worse suits and golden Rolex’s.

It was a busy Friday night. You had already shotgunned two 5 Hour Energy drinks, and you had been steadily sipping on a Monster throughout your shift. You had been in classes all day, and you were scheduled to work until close at 4am.

“Cherry, can we get another round of champagnes?” a sleazy voice pipes up, calling you by your codename. The club was so security driven that they gave all the bottle girls codenames to protect their identities.

“Yes sir,” you respond with an entirely fake bright smile. Your buzzed customers couldn’t tell the difference especially with the low lighting and bass boosted music.

As you walked over towards the bar, your eyes fall onto another table. A man was leaned back with his hands behind his head. He looked entirely relaxed as a girl was bent over your lap.

A crease formed between your eyebrows. They couldn’t be serious, right? Malevolent Mass had a whole downstairs portion dedicated to public sexual acts and other deviant kinks. Why the fuck were they doing that in the normal club area?

As you took a step further, ready to confront them, you realized that the girl was positioned oddly. She wasn’t angled towards his crotch, instead she was hovering over his thigh.

That’s when you noticed she had a rolled up 10,000 yen note, and she was snorting a white powdery substance off the man’s thigh.

Holy fuck, you were in over your head.

Stumbling back towards the bar, you felt your head start to spin a little. It was probably due to fact you’d only consumed energy drinks in the past 12 hours.

“Girl. You don’t look too good,” the bartender, Yorozu, said as she guided you to take a seat. “Are you okay?” she asked cautiously. Compared to the other bottle girls and dancers, Yorozu was the closest thing you had to a friend in this establishment.

“I’m fine,” you quietly replied, shaking your head. It was just drugs. You needed to take a chill pill. It’s not like people go to clubs like this just for some liquid courage.

Yorozu put a glass of water in front of you anyways, not quite believing your words. “Here. I promise you get used to it all,” she offered with a kind smile.

You gave her an appreciative smile as you took a sip of the water. Your hand was trembling, and you realized you had been sweating.

The water felt nice, and you inwardly warded off energy drinks for the rest of the night. It wasn’t worth feeling like a panicky mess.

“I need another bottle of Dom Prignon for booth 12,” you said as you looked back up towards Yorozu. She nodded and walked towards the back to retrieve the bottle of too expensive champagne.

While she was gone, you took a deep breath and looked around towards the security posts. It felt like a small safety blanket in a place like this. Finishing your glass of water, you felt infinitely better as she returned with the bottle.

“Here you are! Let me know if you need anything else, and seriously, don’t feel bad for reacting that way. It’s a bit of a culture shock for everyone during their first few nights,” she assured you as she handed you the bottle.

“Thanks, I appreciate you,” you replied with a genuine smile. Yorozu had a nice energy to her like you felt like you could get close to her one day. A girl friend would be nice to have in a place like this.

As you walked back over to your section, your lips curled into a frown as empty seats filled your eyes. Had they gotten tired of waiting and abandoned your section?

You felt disappointed as you looked around for your customers. They were nowhere to be found, but one silhouette remained in the very back corner.

“Did you bring that bottle for me? How sweet. Too bad I don’t drink,” a deep gravely voice spoke up with a hint of condescension and pure predatory prowess.

You hesitate as it feels like the air in the club shifts simply from this man’s presence alone.

“You don’t drink..?” your voice is uneasy. You feel off balance while interacting with the man tucked away in a dark corner.

“No,” the stranger replied, and he leaned forward a bit, propping his elbows on his knees as his eyes were staring straight at you. “Don’t be shy, girl. Come closer. I won’t bite…” the condescension in his voice tells you otherwise.

You swallow thickly before slowly taking a few steps closer. As you approached him, you were able to see him in all of his glory. The breath is completely sucked from your lungs as you’re able to finally get a good look at him.

He wore a white button-up top with black slacks that really didn’t leave much for the imagination. His sleeves weee rolled up to his elbows, showing off tattoos on his arms.

His face was hauntingly alluring. His tattoos also went up to his face. He had intricate lines under his cheeks that stretched down to his chin. His hair was a natural light rosy color that was pushed up from his forehead. It looked effortless and messy, unlike most business men who rely way too heavily on hair gel.

His eyes were a soft crimson color that looked like blood that had been spilled. A jarring scar slashed over his left eye, but it wasn’t ugly by any means. No, this man held a god-like status when it came to looks. However, his energy felt nothing short of daunting and corrupt.

“Who comes to a club to not drink?” you ask nervously, having to fill the eerie silence with something. It felt like you were suffocating in this man’s presence.

A rugged chuckle leaves his lips, and he tilts his head back slightly. It feels like his laugh sticks to you, making you relax and tense back up all at the same time. You can feel every yen he’s worth with each chuckle.

“If you must know, I come here for a… different sort of entertainment,” he says as his lips curled into a smirk. His eyes unabashedly roam your body — twice before he meets your gaze again.

“Oh, that’s downstairs,” you reply as you feel relieved. This man was just in the wrong section. Surely, you’d guide him to where he needed to go, and you’d be free from whatever kind of verbal hostage situation this was.

“I’m content with where I’m at,” he says with a sort of finality that leaves little room for argument. “Come closer, doll.”

His arm props up on the back of the curved booth, and his legs part into that sort of manspread position where he takes up a good portion of the booth with his massive size.

“I-“

The man pulls a clip of money from his suit, and he makes a show out of flipping through the money before he lays six 10,000 yen notes on the table.

What the hell.

“60,000 yen for you to shut up and come closer,” he says in a voice that lacks the faux kindness he was putting on earlier.

Every survival instinct in your body was telling you to run, but your brain was telling you that 60,000 yen was enough to cover your student housing and for a train pass for a month.

You slowly inch closer, your heels not even lifting from the ground.

The man gives you an amused look as he raises an eyebrow at you. “How much for you to sit on my lap?”

“I-I’m not a dancer..” you reply sheepishly, wondering if he thought you were one of the performers for the club.

“Good thing I’m not asking you to dance, doll. I’m asking you to sit in my lap,” His lips curl into a feline grin. He’s enjoying toying with you like this. “So, I’ll ask only one more time. How much?”

Your heart is pounding against the confines of your ribcage. It felt like you had a little angel on your shoulder telling you that selling this man your time will only further escalate, but the little devil on your other shoulder was telling you to milk him for whatever he was willing to give.

You stayed silent for a few minutes, calculating what a whole month’s expenses would cost you along with the 60,000 yen you already made.

“90,000 yen,” you sheepishly murmur, bracing yourself for him to yell at you for even suggesting such a high number.

There was a beat of silence before the sound of more money being unfolded was heard. He chuckled as he placed down nine more 10,000 yen notes.

“Look at you being all cute while asking for money from me,” he teased, resting his back against the back of the booth. His hand patted his thigh, signaling for you to take a seat.

“I’m not asking— You offered!” you protested, feeling a bit defensive that he would suggest that you just asked him for money.

“Don’t take such a whiny tone with me, doll. I’m only teasing you,” he says as he gestures to his lap yet again. “Sit.”

You bite your bottom lip as you look down towards his lap. You were really about to sit on this stranger’s lap for money… If your dad could see you now, he’d probably disown you.

Good thing he isn’t here.

You slowly walked over towards him, and you carefully take a seat on one of his thighs, planting your feet firmly on the ground so you’re slightly hovering. You need to be able to get away from him at a moment’s notice.

A strong hand slowly snaked up your back, towards your hair, and you tensed up quickly. The stranger wrapped his hand around the back of your neck.

“If I have to tell you again, I’m taking back my money. Sit,” he viciously growled in your ear.

You were already this far in. You should see this through. This club is safe. You were sure of it.

As you slowly allowed yourself to prop your full weight across his lap, your eyes scan around the club, looking at the security points. None of the men would even glance in your direction as if they were purposefully ignoring your section.

What did you just get yourself into?

“See? Was that so hard?” he taunted as his hand slowly dropped down to clasp around your hip. “Why is an angel like you in a club like this?”

Everything in you told you not to answer that question. As soon as he knew your weakness, he’d definitely use it to his advantage, but he probably already knew money was a good motivator for you.

“I didn’t know there was a no angel policy,” you say, trying to remain casual as you flash him a small smile.

A deep chuckle erupts from his chest. He appreciates you trying to use humor to deflect. Clever girl.

“I suppose you’re right,” he rolls his head to the side, cracking his neck from both sides. The sound of bones popping causes a shudder to go through your body. This man was good at giving a false sense of security. “But angels don’t last long in a place like this. It would be a pity to see you be ruined.”

His other hand firmly rested against your thigh, right above your knee. He gives your leg a light squeeze. “Tell me your name, doll.”

“Cherry,” You respond without missing a beat, giving your code name instead of your real name.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he asks, allowing his fingertips to glide against the exposed skin of your thigh. Your breath picks up in speed, noticing he’s getting more bold with touching you.

“Am I suppose to?” you ask, genuinely curious if this man was some big shot that you were suppose to know.

You very rarely kept up with politics, only knowing major crime names from your law classes, and you definitely didn’t keep up with conglomerates. This man wouldn’t be the first millionaire to walk through the doors of Malevolent Mass, and he wouldn’t be the last.

Another deep raspy chuckle escapes him. “No, I actually find it quite cute you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

His hand slithered up your back once again, and this time he grabbed a fistful of your head, tugging your head back to look up at him. A gasp slips past your lips as your eyes meet his crimson ones.

“Tell me a secret, cherry,” he hisses your codename like it’s disgraceful on his tongue. “Do you belong here?”

You think to try to get up from his lap, but his other arm has worked to secure you to him tightly. The security men aren’t even glancing in your direction. No one would hear you over the music blasting if you tried to scream, and if this man was as important as his inflated ego suggested, no one would likely even help you.

You’ve done everything thus far to get out from underneath the rich man’s thumb, but it feels like every time you take one step forward, something pushed two steps back.

Do you belong anywhere? No where feels like home after your dad passed. Tears stung into your eyes. Why were you thinking of him at a time like this? He can’t save you now.

The man’s lips twitched into a smirk as he saw the tears building in your eyes. That alone was confirmation enough. You didn’t belong here at all.

His other hand reaches up to your face, and he gently strokes your cheek — a contrast to how tightly he was holding your hair. “Such a pretty crier,” he deep gravely voice coos to you.

You can’t even help it at this point. You try to blink the water away from your eyes, but the tears slip down your cheeks anyway. You just silently cursed yourself for ruining your own makeup.

“You’re a crybaby, aren’t you?” he asked as his fingers brush against your pouty lips, and he grabs your chin carefully. “Open.”

Accepting defeat, your lips part ever so slightly for him, and you can feel the way his heart races in his chest from the sight. He narrowly eyes you as two of his fingers slip past your lips.

You’re momentarily stunned from his thick fingers filling your mouth. You feel a thrum between your thighs, but you try to ignore it. Surely, your body was just betraying you, and his body was betraying him. You were able to feel every inch of his hard on through his slacks. The sight of your tears only served to spur him on further.

When you give his fingers a light suckle, he purrs a praise for you. Leisurely, he thrusts his digits in and out from your mouth. He admires the way you accept them in without a single complaint.

“Such a good girl for me. Try a little harder,” his voice darkly instructs you as he slides his fingers deeper past your tongue, hitting your inexperienced throat.

Your throat involuntarily constricts, causing you to gag and cry more. You hum around his fingers as you whimper. He merely laughs at your pitiful display.

“We’ll have to train your cute little throat to take more, won’t we?” he asked, making a dull ache settle in your lower stomach. You had never done anything like this, and the way he was treating all this so casually filled you with some sort of… excitement.

His words also struck you with fear as you realized this meant he was likely far from being done with his antics.

His fingers continue until you’ve coated them in a thin sheen of saliva. When he pulled from you, you were panting even though he hadn’t taken away your ability to breathe.

He smirked as he gazed at you as if he can tell that your cunt is clenching around nothing right now. It’s like he knows every perverse desire you’ve fantasized about in your alone time.

“You’re a vision, doll. I’m going to have so much fun breaking you,”

Before you could even think to inquire what he meant by that, an unfamiliar male voice spoke up to your side, causing you to flinch slightly. The other man was dressed in basic business attire, but he had a scrappier look to him.

“Sir?”

The stranger tensed, and you could practically see all the playful taunting energy in his face melt away. He stared daggers into the newcomer’s soul. “Speak.”

“Members of the Gojo clan were spotted near Dante’s 7th circle,”

“Dammit, what a pest,” the pink-haired male growled. He clearly didn’t fancy being interrupted.

You perked up a little from the mention of the infamous Gojo clan. You had heard plenty of whispers about the clan fluttering about on campus, and the clan had been brought up momentarily in your organized gangs class before the professor quickly shut down the conversation.

Yakuza clans were talked about in school, but the professors were very careful about what they chose to say, knowing that members were everywhere amongst them.

The stranger carefully moved you from his lap, and he stood up, gathering himself before turning to you. “You behave. I have to go tend to something, but I’ll be back for you,” he said as he reached into his coat, and he casually tossed a whole clip of yen onto the table.

Your eyes widened at the stack of money sitting on the table, and your heart began to race. It felt like the last two hours had been a complete blur, but now, you were face with a thick stack of money — probably enough to cover you for at least three months… and you weren’t even done with your shift yet.

Your excitement was quickly overshadowed by fear. He was coming back for you. How intertwined had you gotten yourself into this mess?

taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby

[saintobio]

blank canvas.

problems arise when your tattoo artist boyfriend starts getting too cozy with the girls that wanted him to do more to their bodies than just inking their skin. the thing is, they knew what he wanted and they knew what you couldn’t give.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract

tags. nudity, insecure!reader, virgin!reader, dry humping, mentions of needles, mentions of cheating, slutshaming

notes. if you’ve been here for a while, yes this is a repost from an old hq fic :’D i rewrote and remodeled it for sukuna bc i feel like he fits this au!

part 2 | part 3 | epilogue

Sukuna had seen it all.

He wasn’t dumb and he most definitely wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was attractive, bringing him a clientele of adoring women who would frequently visit his tattoo parlor. Who could blame them? He was handsome, had a good physique, and an overwhelming aura that pulled the attraction of many women, single or not, who were desperate to vie for his attention. His tattoos and his dyed hair even added to the overall bad boy persona that he had which, to be fair, was a girl’s guilty pleasure. 

The women were very assertive, it seemed, to try and lure Sukuna into their little seduction game. Was he getting tempted into it? No. He was loyal and he’d like to stay loyal to his kind and beautiful girlfriend. After all, winning you over wasn’t as easy as it would with any other girl. 

However, there were certain moments that almost tested his loyalty to you, especially when some of the women would ask to have their tattoos done on the most intimate places of their bodies. 

Take yesterday as an example: one girl asked to have a tattoo on her buttocks and she was certainly more satisfied at the feeling of Sukuna’s palms on her bum rather than the actual tattoo she was getting. And to top it all, she bluntly asked if he offered more service rather than just giving tattoos. Crazy. 

He had previously mentioned it to you that as part of his job, he was obligated to give his clients the tattoos they requested, regardless of where on their bodies they wanted them. It was strictly business. Ironically, despite dating a tattoo artist like himself, you had no single trace of inked art on your body. You were an untouched canvas that had never been painted on. Still, Sukuna respected your choice and he surely respected your boundaries even more. 

He knew that you had always been a gentle girl when he first met you at the floral shop across the street. You were always prim and proper, always dressed modestly, always following the rules, and always doing the right thing. All you cared about doing was to express your love through the delicate petals you arranged in your flower-scented haven. You were happy to be in your own little bubble, content in the company of fragrant blossoms and soft-spoken solitude. Introverted. Reserved. Pure. Unassuming. He was the exception to your goody-two-shoes nature, because he ended up winning your heart despite being the complete opposite of you. It wasn’t an easy task, either. Deciding to get to know you was on a whim at first, since he was intrigued about your simple joys in life and how you weren’t the type of girls that would visit his tattoo parlor. Something about your demure nature pulled him in until he realized that there was nothing else he wanted in this world but to make you his. He began by greeting you every morning from across the street, then giving you the same bouquet of flowers he purchased from your shop, followed by sending you texts complimenting how beautiful you looked as he watched you from his store, and finally asking you out on spontaneous dates.

It may be a bit peculiar to see the two of you together, but Sukuna pursued you because liked you. He was undeniably in love with you. He liked your smile, liked how cute and adorable you were, and liked how a simple look at you made him want to be a better man. He loved the idea of being with a girl he could protect. 

The main issue was, Sukuna dropped out of college and just decided to open a tattoo parlor business because he simply didn’t want to waste his years studying for something that he wasn’t passionate about. But that was the source of your parents’ distaste. They told you that you had no future with a guy like him. They said that they would disown you as a daughter if you decided to choose him. They called him dirty, rebellious, and uneducated. 

At that point, he thought that you would leave him after learning his rather reckless choices in life, but you stayed. 

You left your parents' home and stayed with him.

And he was grateful that you did. 

So to ask the question again, would he ever do something to betray you after everything that happened between you two? Of course, not. Not in a million years, no

But then again, he was also just doing his job and it wasn’t like he was purposely flirting with the girls that often flocked him during work hours. He was simply accommodating a client. Nothing more, nothing less. 

And on one of those typical days, he had to work overtime when one of his returning clients asked for her fifth tattoo to be done by him. He just finished picking up the tools he needed as she walked towards the recliner seat asking, “Should I sit here?” 

He nodded once, turning around to face the girl who looked at him with her alluring eyes. “Yeah, just let me know when you’re ready.” 

Oh yes, she was surely ready. She even had a smirk displayed on her face when she slowly unbuttoned her shirt, keeping her gaze at him while teasingly revealing her busty pair. 

He didn’t really pay attention to the size of her tits but instead, just casually pointed to a certain part of her body, “Is this where you want it?” he asked, referring to the lower left part of her breast.

With a very flirtatious grin, she nodded, clearly knowing that her assets were her biggest weapon. “Yes. Would it be easier if I took off my bra, yeah?” 

“You don’t have to. I can work it out,” he casually responded, reaching for his glove and busying himself with all the tool preparations. 

The girl let out a silent giggle along with her best friend who sat on the side, waiting for her turn. Waiting to be the recipient of Sukuna’s full attention. Sigh. 

“No, I can take it off for you,” the girl insisted, unclasping her bra and setting her huge breasts free for him to ogle at. They were perfectly round, probably a 40D, and a light pink shade for her nipples. With how firm they were sitting on her chests, she had probably gotten them done.  

He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he asked her to sit on the recliner chair. Sukuna had seen women half naked in his shop before, but this was the first time someone willingly got naked in front of him, most especially with other intentions rather than to simply get a tattoo. 

Because of the awkwardness, he went ahead and blasted some heavy metal music to distract his mind. He had to think of something else and not stare at the girl’s luscious tits. He had to shift his mind to somewhere else like, for example, why the girl chose a calligraphy of the words ‘la douleur exquise’ on her skin this time.

“Is this French?” he nonchalantly asked, motioning for her to rest her back while he wiped the chosen area with a damp cotton pad. He specifically avoided brushing his hand on her breast, but it looked like the girl was actually angling herself to make him touch it more. 

“It means exquisite pain,” she purred, batting her thick eyelashes at him. 

His lips formed a smirk, impressed at how much of a skank she was willing to be for him. It wasn’t new, as established before. He’d also had a fair share of women who tried to get into his pants last week, but none of them were successful. He actually found it entertaining to watch them do all sorts of stunts to make him give in. To make him submit himself to his carnal desires. He was a man after all. He had needs, he had to get some form of release, otherwise it could pose a problem in his masculinity. 

All while she was getting her tattoo done, the other girl got up from her seat to walk closer to her best friend. Sukuna decided to refer to them in his head as Slut 1 and Slut 2 because he had no intentions of knowing their names. He knew slut-shaming was terrible, but he never said he was a man of virtue and truthfully, how else could he describe them? 

“Hey, Sukuna,” the other girl called, sitting at an empty stool with a smile. “You’re single, right?” 

He kept his eyes focused on the skin he was inking on. “...No.” 

Even from the corner of his eye, he knew that both girls looked surprised, “No way? You have a girlfriend?” 

Was it really that much of a shock? 

“Yeah, she owns the floral shop across the street,” he mumbled, wiping the trace of blood on the girl’s skin after he finished another letter. 

There was a visible pout on Slut 1’s face as if learning that Sukuna had a girlfriend was more painful than the needle pricking at her skin. “So, what’s she like?” 

Sukuna thought for a while because he didn’t know where to begin. It was too much of a long story for them to hear about. You were everything he wanted in a woman and that was all he knew. “She’s cute and kind.” 

His words earned a giggle from Slut 2. “Is she like the good girl type?” 

“She is.” He figured it would be okay to converse about you like this. Besides, he would rather be talking about you than to have these girls just try to flirt with him relentlessly. 

“How much of a good girl, though?” Slut 1 egged on, “I bet she’s a virgin and a prude.” 

That was obviously none of their business, but damn. They hit a nerve that they shouldn’t have. No one else had managed to bring up a topic like that to him, more so a topic that he himself knew not to cross. His sex life wasn’t as fruitful as anyone thought so, yet not once in his life did he complain. Not once did he talk about it to anyone. Not once did he tell anyone that he had been dating you for a year now and you two never really went further than making out. 

“I respect her,” was his answer, much to the two girls’ dismay.

“That’s kinda boring, though,” the other girl claimed, draping her arm around his shoulder before leaning close to his ear. “You’re still a man and you have needs. If I were her, I’d sleep with you every day. In every position.” 

The girl on the recliner chair grinned. “Totally! Like, you’re so hot and I feel like you’re good in bed.” 

Fuck. 

He almost messed up one of the letters because his mind just flew to somewhere unforgivable. It was a sin to even think about, but shit, he definitely missed the feeling of fucking someone. He couldn’t even remember the last time he did so. 

“Sukuna?” 

He snapped out of his trance and looked up upon hearing the familiar voice, only to find you by the door, your eyes filled with hurt.

“Hey—” 

Your voice was caught in your throat as you avoided his gaze. “I just... I thought you were done.” 

In a swift motion, you hurriedly walked out of the room before dashing out the door. You didn’t even bother to look back, dead set on leaving him alone with the girls. Your footsteps were far too quick to even catch and he was hoping that you would at least slow down. 

“Babe!” he called, unable to chase after you as you shut the door. An exasperated sigh followed. 

This was going to be a big problem 

Just what was he thinking? 

He had a half naked girl in front of him and another girl clinging to him like he didn’t have a girlfriend. It must have hurt you a lot. No, it definitely wrecked you.

“Uh-oh...” the girl mocked. “I can sense trouble” 

He decided to leave it be for now and get his job done as soon as possible, even thinking of banning the two girls from going into his shop just to avoid further trouble. He had a lot of explaining to do and he couldn’t wait to go home to make sure that you would listen to him, not overthink the whole thing and place your assumptions because hurting you was the last thing he would do.

At least, he hoped you knew that.   

You were washing the dishes when Sukuna came home and the first thing he did was to wrap his arms around you. He had your waist caged in his tight embrace, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered sweet nothings to you. To be real, you weren’t in the mood to see his face after what you saw this afternoon. You get it—he was exposed to all sorts of people with his line of work and most of them probably couldn’t just ignore his physical appearance. You were aware that some girls were only getting a tattoo to get close to him. Heck, you were aware that they all wanted to be with him.

But the only reason you were hurt wasn’t because he was desired by women, but because those very same women were all better than you in more ways than one. They fit his type more than you did and you were sure that they could give him exactly what he wanted. 

Still, it awfully tugged at your heartstrings. 

He was yours, not theirs. You had the right to be jealous when a girl was getting cozy with your man, but to see him letting them have their way? That was a different story. 

“Baby, talk to me,” he mumbled, planting a soft, apologetic kiss on your neck. 

You gave him the silent treatment as you walked away and dried your hands with a towel. What else would you say? He should already be aware of why you were acting that way. He should be the one to try and talk to you, not the other way around. And with your stubborn mind, you did your best to keep your insouciance, pulling his tattooed arms off of you and heading towards the couch. 

You could hear his sigh as he followed you, but you were determined to keep your eyes glued on the TV screen. If he wanted to talk, he should do the talking, you reminded yourself over and over. 

“You’re really pissed at me, huh,” he spoke as soon as he sat next to you, a hand carefully placed on your thigh. “I’m sorry.” 

“They’re pretty hot, aren’t they?” The bitter question left your mouth before you thought of holding back. 

He scooted closer and hooked an arm around your shoulder this time. “Definitely nowhere near as hot as my girlfriend.” 

What a load of… You rolled your eyes, remembering how the girls looked and how comfortable he was with them. “Yeah, right.” 

You couldn’t explain the tightness on your chest every time you recalled the scene earlier because you knew, you just knew, that there was more that could have happened if you didn’t check on him. You saw it in his eyes, even for a split second, that he almost gave in to temptation. How could he not? You were a prude just as they described—just because you didn’t have any sexual experience like they did. Perhaps when they called you boring, they were right and Sukuna wanted to agree. 

He couldn’t be stuck with a girlfriend that he couldn’t even have sex with, could he? 

“I shouldn’t have let them put their hands on me like that,” he admitted, showing his dire attempt to look apologetic. “Only you can.” 

You took a deep breath and shook your head. “I don’t even know why you’re still with me, Sukuna. I put so many boundaries between us. Don’t you get tired of me?” 

“Fuck no,” he quickly answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Never. You’re the only one for me.” 

Truth be told, you did feel bad that he couldn’t fully experience you as a girlfriend, but he had been very patient and respectful towards you. He never crossed the line and never forced you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He said he was doing that because you never gave up on him even when you had the choice to. He said that you were worth waiting for. He said that he was satisfied with what you two already had.

Maybe you could let this one incident go, after all, he was never really a bad boyfriend to you. Sure, he looked like a bad boy, but when it came to you, he was surprisingly soft. 

“Okay,” you muttered, sighing in defeat and finally meeting his eyes. “Just don’t do it again. I don’t care if they get naked in front of you. Please set some boundaries and don’t entertain them too much or you’ll give off the wrong impression.” 

Your leniency earned a smile from him, delighted to earn your trust again so he made an effort to peck your lips. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“You love me.” 

“I do,” you professed, placing a hand on his cheek, “so much.” 

Pleased with your words, he leaned in again to give you a much, much deeper kiss. He knew it was all he could do with you, but he wanted to make you feel that his kisses were satisfying enough for the both of you. Just with the way he moved his lips against yours and how your tongue rolled around his—it was almost impossible to breathe at one point, but he softened the kiss to allow yourself to catch some air. 

Gosh, you were jealous again. You were becoming annoyed as your mind ran at full speed, thinking of how those girls thought they could put their hands on your man. You were livid at how they tried to steal him from you. 

“You’re mine, right?” you asked for reassurance, pulling away to look at his dominating eyes. 

The smirk on his lips was replaced by a cheeky grin. “All yours, darling.” 

You didn’t know what gave you the sudden confidence to straddle his lap after he said that, but it just felt right. You wanted more of his physical affection and felt like you couldn’t get enough. Both of you were taken aback, obviously, because this wasn’t something you would normally do, and so the heat on your cheeks was mixing with the surprised look on his face. You were sitting directly on his crotch and he was having a hard time to control himself. 

“Babe,” he breathed on your neck. “You don’t have to force yourself.” 

He was right, but the thought of the other girls constantly seducing him behind your back just gave way to your deepest insecurities. You didn’t have the most perfect body in the world and you most definitely didn’t have the skills in bed that he expected—you were scared that you might lose him because of these facts. Or that he would find someone better, even at the cost of having them on the side. 

“Hey,” he spoke again, making you look at his eyes as you relaxed into his touch. “It’s fine. If you want it, I can be gentle. We can go slow.” 

“I-I don’t know... I just,” you hesitated, not knowing exactly how to put it into words. 

You didn’t know why sex intimidated you. It should be as easy as 1-2-3,  just him putting his member inside you, right? But you weren’t really scared of doing the act itself, you were scared that once you did it, he would leave you because he already got what he wanted. Losing it to the wrong person sounds like a nightmare and that was why you were having trouble coming into terms of losing your virginity before marriage. 

You could feel the hardness on his crotch pressing against your core and you didn’t expect a moan escaping your lips when you moved at the slightest. The fabric of your shorts were thin enough for you to feel the outline of his hardened member, displaying a prominent bulge on his sweatpants. You haven’t seen how big he was, but you could tell just by looking at his bulge that he was huge. Could you even take that? 

He held your waist and guided you to move again, this time urging you to move your hips back and forth, allowing you to feel the friction from his hard erection. Lust was clouding his eyes and it made you feel weak. 

“How does it feel?” he asked, his hot breath tickling your ear. 

You continued grinding on him with your lips parted, releasing your silent moans, “G-Good.”

He leaned forward to kiss your neck, eventually sucking the soft skin to leave his beautiful marks. “I wanna eat you down there, baby,” he growls under his breath, squeezing your right breast, “You’re gonna taste so good, I bet.” 

“Suku—” you whined, gripping his hair while he started matching your movements with his own. It was a foreign feeling for you to feel his bulge rubbing against your untouched core. 

“Fuck,” he cussed in a low voice, squeezing your ass with his huge hands in growing excitement. “Let me get a condom.” 

This was it. 

It was happening. 

Or was it?

Your eyes widened in panic as you pushed him back onto the couch. It was as though all of your senses were awakened and your body was telling you that you shouldn’t be doing all this. “N-No, I... I’m not ready.” 

You didn’t mean to always chicken out when you two were almost about to do it. You just didn’t feel confident enough to give yourself yet and even if you badly wanted to, you just couldn’t make yourself do it.

You could see the hint of disappointment on his face and he was trying to hide it. 

“Right,” he exhaled deeply with his head thrown back on the headrest. “It’s alright. Maybe next time,” he convinced himself. 

“I’m sorry,” you softly mumbled, hand gripping on his shirt. 

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before pulling you out of his lap and getting up from the couch. “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine.” 

You stayed seated as you watched him walk away. “Where are you going?” 

“I have to finish this off on my own,” he answered without looking back. You realized he was referring to the act of touching himself because you just couldn’t do the job for him. It was obvious how frustrated he was and for goodness sake, you did feel guilty, but then again, he didn’t act like this before. When you told him you didn’t want to do it further, he would simply laugh it off and say he would wait for you. 

This wasn’t the same Sukuna that said that. 

You became a little paranoid. 

Considering that girls would still pay your boyfriend a visit at the tattoo parlor, you always ended up overthinking about what he was doing while you were supposed to be busy at the floral shop. In the middle of arranging a bouquet of beautiful peonies, your mind was on haywire. You just didn’t feel at ease. You felt like anyone could easily snatch him away from you because you weren’t particularly a striking girl to begin with. You were leaning on the simple, conservative side rather than the rebellious, liberated women that swarmed his shop in hopes of sleeping with him. 

Because your thoughts were eating you alive, you decided to head to his tattoo parlor after closing the shop to make sure that he wasn’t doing any funny business. 

And you were somehow right. 

About three girls were in there this time, two of which you had already seen a couple of days ago, and they were already leaving the parlor just as you arrived. 

“You’re really amazing, Sukuna,” one of the girls told him in gratitude, “I might get another one soon.” 

You watched them walk past you with a smug expression on their faces as they left the shop. Sukuna had then seen you standing by the door with your arms crossed. 

“Really?” you questioned, walking inside with a frown. “They’re here again?” 

He sighed and walked back to his station while cleaning the mess from the tattoo session. He wasn’t even trying to win you over anymore. “I can’t just ask them not to come anymore. They’re still clients.”

“Let me guess,” you continued, “Did one of them get naked in front of you again? Did you let them put their hands all over you again? Did you perhaps forget that you had a girlfriend again?” 

His brows, now furrowed in annoyance and his mouth, thinning in displeasure. “No. We talked about this.” 

You held your breath, raising a brow in return. “I’m starting to think you’re doing more for them than just giving them tattoos.” 

“Like, what? Sell my body?” His question was clearly a taunt. A spasm of irritation crossed his face, but he still managed to display a mocking smile. “Is that what you’re suggesting, angel?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Then, what?” 

“You know what I mean,” you replied, trying to get your point across while keeping your composure. “You’re an attractive man and they’re the type of women you would willingly sleep with.” 

“Jesus. You’re so insecure, it’s crazy,” he retorted, rolling his eyes at you. 

Insecure? You couldn’t believe, just couldn’t believe he called you insecure. The air crackled with tension as your jaw tightened, muscles twitching with every suppressed urge to lash out.

“I wonder why!” Your voice rose hysterically. “If you weren’t busy flirting with those girls, maybe I won’t be so insecure.” 

“I said I’m not flirting with them!” he argued, slamming his gloves on the floor. His face contorted into a mask of rage and he looked at you with frustration that you had never seen before. It hurt. It certainly hurt. He had been acting distant since the night you didn’t give in to him and you knew that his exasperation towards you was rooting from that. 

Your breathing became unsteady. “But you know you’d sleep with them if given the chance. Since I couldn’t do it with you.” 

“Then, just fucking do it with me instead of bitching about it every day!” he snapped, voice thick with insinuation. “I don’t wanna be stuck acting like I give two shits about your interest in flowers and whatever nonsense you like to talk about. I wanna be with someone I can have sex with, not sit on the couch all day with a boring person like you!” 

His hurtful words left you frozen like a statue, unable to move while being dominated by the shooting pain inside your chest. 

You knew this day would come—that he would eventually get tired of waiting around for something that he could easily get from others. However, what hurt you most was the fact you believed he wasn’t that type of guy. That he wasn’t with you solely for what you could give, but rather, for what you just had. You thought he sincerely understood your boundaries and respected your choices the very same way you respected his, but it seemed that he had another thought in his head all along. 

After seeing the look on your face, Sukuna had softened his gaze and walked closer to you in reproach to his words and actions, “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean that.” 

A tear fell from your eye as you looked at him with both anger and pain building inside of you. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You wanna have sex? Is that what you want?” Your voice cracked in the middle of your sentence. “You wanna do it so bad, let’s fucking do it, then!” 

Your fingers forced their way to spitefully unbutton your blouse despite his desperate efforts to stop you. You must be going crazy. But also, he drove you to this point. 

“Baby, no,” he said in remorse, grabbing your wrists tightly. “No, I’m sorry. I’m content with you. I really am, I’m sorry. Please.” 

Your chest heaved as you cried, unable to stop your emotions from exposing all of your vulnerabilities. “It’s obviously not enough for you.” Your voice quivered, each word a fragile whisper trembling with the weight of unspoken sadness as you sniffled and wiped your eyes. “You knew what kinda girl I am when you dated me.”

He pulled you for a hug and kissed your temple way too many times that you lost count. He felt absolutely sorry for ever hurting you with his words, but they just hit you so painfully to the point that your gaze grew distant and your face was clouded with resignation. 

“I know what kinda girl you are and I’m in love with you for it,” he reaffirmed, as if trying to get it through your head but his words were beginning to feel empty. “Please, believe me. I really didn’t mean what I said. You’re enough for me, baby. You’re all I want.” 

You didn’t feel comfort from his words, but you still returned his embrace because you loved him. Because you knew, even if he said more hurtful words, that you would still love him. Sure, you would be angry, but your love for him ruled higher than your pride. 

You were just scared of losing him over something like this. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear before placing a soft, apologetic kiss on your lips. 

When he pulled away, your heart still felt heavy, but you managed to conceal your face with an agonizing smile. 

“I love you, too.” 

He ran his thumb across your cheek and held your waist on his other hand. You just couldn’t get his words out of your head even after he apologized, because you never knew he was seeing your relationship that way all along. 

The girls were right. He was a man after all and he had needs. 

The fact that he was staying with you despite not fulfilling his needs must be a work of charity for him, and eventually, he would get sick of waiting around. He would desire you less and less the more the days passed by and it wasn’t absolutely crazy to think that he could potentially meet another girl he liked that was willing to give it all. 

The mere thought of it scared you. 

“I’ll do it with you tonight,” you offered, your voice breaking, hoping that you could finally break the barrier and be enough for him. 

[knifeforkspooncup]

Please click for better resolution!

I made this silly little art, and then like a being possessed, wrote 1200 words of pure unadulterated hogwash to go with it (ficlet below the cut)

Duck Duck Goose

Rating: Teen and up

"Shouldn't be feeding them bread." Crowley said, trying and failing to ward off an irate goose with the pointed toe of his boot. "It’s brioche." Aziraphale chided, as if that explained anything. A nattering crowd of ducks was forming at his feet like eager disciples. Crowley didn't ask where he'd gotten the brioche. He'd stuck his chilly hands into Aziraphale's pockets enough times now to know the list of things the angel kept on his person at any given moment was - well, impressive was one word for it. In the way a magpie's hoard of oddities was impressive. A brioche was quite pedestrian, really. "Brioche then.” The goose had moved on to striking repeatedly for his ankles, more pit viper than waterfowl. “Shouldn’t. Feed them. Brioche,” he gritted between defensive maneuvers. He never had gotten the hang of sword fighting. If Aziraphale heard, he pretended not to, ripping off hunks of bread at least double the esophagus diameter of the average mallard duck. One at a time, he tossed them lazily into the fray. The ducks erupted into chattering, nipping each other’s feathers. A shark frenzy had more natural order to it.

The goose took no interest, bloodlust overriding any desire for fine French baked goods. If anything, it doubled its effort to latch onto Crowley’s shin. Had geese always had teeth?

Aziraphale beamed at the chaos, halogen bright. Humming with self satisfaction, he brushed his hands of crumbs, and settled back against the bench. Crowley diverted a sliver of bodily coordination to snake one arm behind him, weaseling into the warm gap left by the angel’s impeccable posture.

This was a thing they did now, apparently. Not watching ducks squabble over bread – that part was old hat. But Aziraphale tucking himself neatly against Crowley's side? For all the world to see. Like he was one of Crowley's wings simply stowing away. Frankly, that hat still had the tag on it. Still had that new hat smell.

This was rapidly becoming their new normal. Embroidery on the familiar weave of their time together. They still did all the things they always had. They still went to the Ritz, where the waiter still assumed Aziraphale was paying for the bill. Crowley still pulled out the angel’s seat like a proper gentledemon.

None of that had changed.

Just now they also held hands on the table between courses, and Aziraphale fed Crowley bites of dessert straight from his spoon. Sometimes they even did exciting things with their feet under the table.

Aziraphale called it canoodling. Crowley was pretty sure that was a fussy type of dog. The kind that wore bows on its head and left the groomer looking like an ornamental hedge.

Whatever it was, it was nice. More than nice.

Take today for example. The clouds were parting, birds singing – the whole production; the sun sparkled just so, really putting the ol’ razzle dazzle on it all.

There went Aziraphale, tipping his head back against Crowley’s shoulder, eyes closing. Lashes sun-gilt and fanning on his rosy cheeks. Straight out of a renaissance painting. A nice, expensive renaissance painting, on with real lapis lazuli pigment for the eyes. The angel really knew when to lay it on thick.

“Oh, that’s quite nice, isn’t it.” Aziraphale sighed, basking in the warmth.

See, nice? It was nice. Five hundred years of coming here, and this moment was the most nice it had ever been. Crowley remembered when this place was a marshy field full of roving geese and snuffling pigs. When the trees that made this nice bench were just scrawny little saplings, runty and wind bitten. Had the bench gotten smaller? It used to feel immense, and not in the luxury Cadillac sense of the word. Used to fit Heaven and Hell between them with room to spare. Back when nice was a four letter –

The goose sunk it’s – definitely toothed – beak into Crowley’s shin, just above the boot.

Satisfied with its grip, it started to flail, giving the impression Crowley was a chewtoy it meant to thrash to death. The small part of Crowley’s brain reserved for humility was starting to believe it would succeed.

"Dinner? How would you feel about a nice, tasty Christmas goose?” Grunted Crowley, shaking his leg and raising his free hand, demonic miracle at the ready. He had just the goose in mind. “With all the trimmings. Could even do some plum sauce on the side if you like,"

Aziraphale frowned, eyes still closed. “…it’s October.”

“That a no, then? Don’t want to get a head start on the festivities?”

Aziraphale looked up just as Crowley managed to dislodge the fowl beast and punt it away like a feathery football. It came right back, tongue stuck out like a rude child and wheezing angrily.

He tsked, mouth thinning. “You’re terrible. Leave the poor thing alone.”

Crowley sputtered. “Wha – ha – me?! I’m not the one biting a boot like a lunatic!” Would that work? Biting it? Maybe the goose would bugger off if Crowley bit it back. Should he bite it back? He should probably bite it, shouldn’t he. Oh, Satan, he was going to get feathers stuck in his teeth.

The infernal creature hissed, undoubtedly reading his mind. Crowley hissed back, tongue forking menacingly if only for the sake of his own ego.

Aziraphale was staring at him and smiling. Well, smirking. Fondly. The corners of his mouth pinching his cheeks, eyes crinkling under a raised eyebrow. He even had a dimple forming on his chin. Ridiculous. Something in the inner workings of Crowley’s chest did its best impression of a snare drum.

“Shall we, my dear?” Said the Very Ridiculous Angel, stirring from Crowley’s side. He stood and straightened his jumper until there were no more wrinkles. Seeing Crowley still engaged in boot-to-beak combat with the feathery fiend, he added tartly: “Before someone gets killed.”

Crowley grumbled something about demonic wrath and taking bets, but slunk to his feet. He flicked his glasses down and shot a final, venomous glare at the goose before sidling up to Aziraphale and offering his arm.

Aziraphale took it, wedging warm hands into the crook of Crowley’s elbow. He made it look habitual, easy as. Just the natural thing to do. Right as rain.

He was faster than Crowley, at this part. At the settling in. He’d taken to it all like geese to psychological warfare.

“You mentioned dinner?” Said Aziraphale brightly, ducks parting obediently at their feet.

“Your turn to pick.” Crowley’s skin was sizzling, water on a hot frying pan.

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, face thoughtful. He took dinner plans very seriously.

“How about Peking duck? From that lovely place just around the corner, the one with the comfortable chairs.”

Crowley gave him a sharp look, nearly spraining an eyebrow in the process.

The angel was looking resolutely ahead, expression perfectly blank save for the way his mouth twitched at the corners.

I love you, blurted Crowley’s brain.

“Every restaurant has comfortable chairs,” blurted his mouth. It was a fact. Every restaurant did have comfortable chairs. Or else. So far Crowley hadn’t met a chair that cared to find out about the or else – chairs not being very curious by nature.

Crowley would say all the other things later, of course. All the sappy, corny, sweet-nothing things. When they were home. When he could wash the burn down with something whispered and sinfully filthy. Something that would make Aziraphale turn pinker than a summer peach.

Aziraphale was watching him, gaze unspeakably soft. “I know, my dear,” he said.

“I know.”

[gremlingottoosilly]

The Art of Hospitality (yan!Nanami x fem!Reader)

Nanami comes home to his favorite roommate. He is hurt and tired...but he knows who will instantly make him feel better. Tags and CW: Yandere, mild dub-con, non-consensual masturbation, Nanami is a panty stealer, light age difference, power imbalance, housewife kink, groping, praise kink AO3

You accidentally took his shirt from the laundry. Nanami thinks it’s an accident – he isn’t sure that you’re dumb enough to genuinely not realize that you were wearing a man’s clothes for a while already, but he doesn’t think you’re brave enough to flirt with him like this either. You’re stuck between being dumb and being too abrasive in your act – and honestly, Kento can deal with the dumb ones. Always a pleasure to spend some time with a person who knows when to shut up. 

You look simply divine like this – tugging a shirt that is too big for you in your tiny shorts, carefully rolling the sleeves up so they won’t get splashed while you are doing the dishes. Nanami never asked you to pull up with so many domestic responsibilities – but it was expected. He already allows you to live here without paying rent, so…only natural you’d be his housewife in everything besides affection. He knows how careful he must be – you’re innocent, as some college dropout can be, and you don’t really think of him like that. At least, he thinks you aren’t – he is sure that were you a bit braver, you’d already sleep in his bed instead of a tiny guest bedroom. If you’d wear his shirt on any other day of the week, he would simply note this in his head and proceed with his day. Maybe stare a bit, imagining your curves hidden by the baggy fabric, catching glimpses of skin whenever you roll it up a bit too high. If it was on any other day, he’d just smile and proceed to go to his study.

But you had to pull his shirt out of the laundry on the exact day when he dragged his body home from a particularly nasty fight with a curse. The thing was defeated – something about fear of bug larvae, the sound it made while being dissected by his knife was something that Nanami wouldn’t forget for a long time, even with an ample amount of alcohol. You just had to be cute and adorable and domestic and wear his clothes on a day when he wanted it most. Where all of his desires of retirement amplified, pushing for a fantasy that was just out of reach. 

Until he saw you cleaning the dishes with the tenacity of a proper housewife. Nanami knew he had to keep himself in check – knew how much he’d scare you with this. Still, at that moment, he wanted nothing more but to push you on that kitchen counter, roll his shirt even higher on your body, and use you like a proper domestic wifey you are. 

— You did the laundry? 

He slips right behind you, hands on your waist. It’s a gesture that cannot be mistaken for anything other than affection – and you get stiff immediately, not sure of what to do. He hopes you’d be a smart girl and won’t defy him. He doesn’t have patience for brats right now – no matter how adorable they might look. You take a deep breath and release it, relaxing in his hold. He squints, a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. What a boedient thing you are. 

— I did the dark ones, yes. I wanted to do the whites as well, but there wasn’t enough, so… You trail off, your hands shaking just a little bit. Nanami notices and leans on you a bit, pressing you against his chest. Your breath hitches again, panic evident in your body. He wants you to relax – and so he slips one of his hands across your waist, pressing you even closer to him. You have to get used to the heat of his body eventually. Nanami isn’t known for charity work and you’d have to pay him back one way or another – and currently, you only have one way of achieving this. 

Nanami pressed his hand more firmly against your waist, squishing you between his body and the counter. You are forced to relax into his touch – with no way of getting out, it’s only obvious why you’d be this scared. Poor, dumb girl. No idea what is coming to her. — You washed my things as well? You put the dishes on the drying stand, wiping your hands with the nearest towel. There is a certain clumsiness in your actions – like you were trying to remember how to act properly on the go. Like you tried your hardest to be a perfect housekeeper without looking too desperate. Although he likes that air of eagerness around you. 

— I wanted to do something for you, sir. While I can’t get a proper job. The little snag didn’t go unnoticed. Every time you try to convince him that you finally got some part-time position, something minimal wage and extra working hours, he will always say that working like this would be useless – that you need a real job if you truly want to build up your experience. After some time, you stopped even looking for openings, instead marinading yourself in your meager savings and looking after the house. Sometimes you wondered if he just wanted to get a free house worker – but then again, he let you live in this big house without paying rent or even groceries. The only reason you’re still here is because he is generous…and you don’t want to think about the reasons behind it.

Spending time around so many people with loud personalities, Nanami craved someone simple. Easy. Nice and quiet – and a girl who is too helpless to survive on her own is just that. Some people are not meant to survive on their own, and there is a certain dignity in relying solely on help from others. 

He caresses your hands – you don’t understand why is he suddenly so affectionate after spending months not even bothering to learn your last name, but then you notice the smell of blood. Scratches on his hands. Something that smelled like wet dirt and metal. 

You turn away, bumping your nose into his chest. Kento looks…disheveled. With his tie lost, a few buttons were torn off from his perfectly ironed – you ironed it just a few days ago – shirt that was now covered in soil and blood. He looks like he just got into a fight – with no indications of who was on the winning side. You weren’t sure where he worked exactly – something corporate, you think, some cushy position that allowed him to escape overtime and get home at 6 PM sharp every day. Corporate people usually don’t return home looking like something tried to chew on them. 

— N…nanami, what…what happened? He sighs, rubbing his forehead. It seems like your question somehow irritated him – you don’t want to be like this, don’t want him to hate you. Yet, it’s almost like your worry is making him insanely angry somehow. You bite your lips, face scrunched in a worried expression. You don’t want him to die – or even just get slightly more injured. 

— Got into an accident. There is nothing to worry about. 

You’re definitely not buying it. Kento likes seeing you gushing over him – but knowing how anxious his little roommate can be, you’re certainly not going to let it go so easily. And he has no intentions of showing you the secrets of the world of jujutsu right now. If ever. 

— You got run over?! — No. 

— A dog attacked you?! — No. 

— Oh. You were robbed..? He sighs, thinking of how he still hasn’t come up with an excuse. He should have – but the fight was hard already, and the energy he spent working overtime on that curse didn’t make anything better. He loves your worry and your kindness, but he can’t deal with it right now. Somehow, he has to divert your attention. Somehow, he has to take this comfort he wanted from you and your body. 

— You’re wearing my shirt. 

Your eyes widened, heat spreading across your face. He sees that he has successfully distracted you – your hands are coming to cover yourself immediately, tugging on the wrist of the shirt as if trying to see if he is right. Seems like you really didn’t notice you were wearing something that belonged to him. God, what a dumb thing you are. What did he do to deserve such a blessing? You take a step to the side, trying to escape the trap of his hands – but Nanami is not having it. With a grunt, he is forcing you in front of him again, making sure you’re set here, nice and comfortable. Trapped close to him – like he’d ever let go of someone as precious as you. He might be a lot of things – a workaholic, an extremely tired individual with love for useless and dumb sunshine girls, but he is not stupid. Letting you go now will only increase the gap between the two of you – and not even in a sense of age. 

— I’m…oh. I’m really sorry, sir, it must have been mixed in the laundry and… He snorts. The sound is weird, alien to someone like him – you look up, surprised he even bothered to listen to you. You really got him acting so weird…it’s almost an achievement. Somehow, you don’t feel like you won something. 

— You didn’t even notice it was too big? 

— I have some oversized clothes. — Something that your ex left you? 

You find yourself wordless at the accusation. It doesn’t sound too weird at first – but the harshness in his voice is making you shiver. His hands are on your waist again, holding you in a gesture that can’t be platonic – and this is the first time he paid so much attention to you. You feel uncomfortable. You feel desired, somehow. Nanami smells of blood and you find yourself aroused at it. Are you really that weird of a person? Fighting the urge to press your nose in his shoulder and breathe in his musk, mixed with blood, sweat, and that wonderful perfume he is using? The scent of which was traveling with you the whole morning ever since you took the shirt out of the laundry. Did you truly not know it was his? Somehow, you aren’t so sure now. 

— I…I guess I just wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry, sir, I will…

You insist on calling him “sir” despite your age gap being not that terrible. He couldn’t be your father – yet he has this aura about him that makes you a bit afraid. Just a little nervous whenever he raises his voice or hums disarmingly. You don’t want to disappoint him, anxiety filling every bit of your existence when you think about this – he is doing so much, he has serious work and all you do is gush over housework and trying to play a role you were not made for. Never thinking how hard being a housewife might be. 

— You’re going to just take off it now? 

You freeze in place, not sure of how to answer. Nanami chuckles. You don’t want him so close to you, touching you like you’re in love – but he is hurt, stressed and covered in blood. He is  lonely man, you can understand this – who else would invite a girl to live with him because he spends so much time working outside of the house, he’d disappear for days on end and someone had to take care of the house? if he had a partner then, surely, you wouldn’t be here. It must be hard, for someone like him – but he seems so nice, so hardworking, despite the initial strictness…why is he single? 

You don’t feel comfortable with his chin resting on your shoulder, but you’re forcing yourself to relax. He had such a hard day, and he is still hurt. You might as well indulge him a little. 

— I don’t think it would be polite.

— Why not?

His hands slowly unbutton the lowest part of the shirt, the one that is hanging way below your stomach. He is not revealing any skin – but the feeling of his calloused fingers even through the fabric is a bit much to handle. 

— I’m a guest at this house. Wouldn’t want to embarrass the owner, right? His hand goes to grasp a few more buttons, making you stiffen. You don’t…don’t particularly want his hands in that area – almost under your chest, with a single brush of fingers enough to make you feel hot. Throbbing. Enough to make you question everything you know about him and…other things. You want to be a good guest, to not overstay your welcome – but it seems like the lines are getting more and more blurry each time. — I wouldn’t mind seeing you without it. — I’m really sorry I took it without asking you…

— You can get punished for it later. But…

Nanami presses his mouth on your neck, inhaling your scent. You smell like him – his cologne, his shower gel, the fabric softener he uses for his shirts, all the expensive things he knows you don’t have money for. You’re relying on his kindness and, well, he can be kind…if you’re willing to be good to him, of course. Good, obedient, and pretty girls deserve their rewards, after all. He has the perfect idea for just the one right now. You whimper when you feel his lips on your skin, when he nibbles on the sweet spot at the back of your neck. It can’t be mistaken for normal affection now – not with the way he keeps unbuttoning your shirt until there is barely enough to cover your breasts. His hand lays on your stomach, warmness spreading across the skin…there isn’t a lot you can do now. Your thoughts are mixed now, not sure of what to do to make him stop or to let him keep going. — Nana…no, Kento, I’m not really sure about… — Quiet, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes, okay? 

You sigh, allowing him to just…touch you. Get sated with the feeling of your body in his arms – you don’t know how much time had passed, but he just rubs soothing circles into your stomach and breathes, occasionally peppering your neck with kisses. 

You want him to go further. 

You want him to stop. Maybe, it was just a few more minutes. Maybe, he took his time – you on;y woke up from that hazy, dream-like state when he suddenly yanked the rest of your shirt off, revealing your braless chest to the cold air of the house. You wanted to cover yourself – but your slow motions didn’t do you enough justice, as he easily grabbed your wrist in one of his hands. 

He kisses you again, and you move your head to the side to meet his lips. You don’t know what you want – you want to help him, to make his worries go away, but he is still smelling of blood and rust and you’d like to draw him a bath first. Maybe take care of him there. Maybe grab your things and run even though it would mean you’d be homeless. You can feel his erection pressing to the curve of your ass and you move involuntarily, sliding up and down – maybe in an attempt to escape, maybe in an attempt to allure. You want for him to say something, to command you to do something – be more forceful, be more kind, make everything better, and then do it much, much worse. You sigh, trying to just…

The phone is ringing. 

You manage to read the name. You wonder who the hell is Gojo Satoru. — I apologize for this. – Nanami whispers in your ear, getting away from you. Still keeping a hand on your waist, holding you down as firmly as possible. Not that you have any strength left in your legs to go anywhere. You’re waiting for Nanami to finish the call. Something is telling you that he just found a way to make you pay for staying with him for so long.

[anime-grimmy-art]

UPDATE: NEW DEADLINE DEC 8TH

Welcome to the Finish this in your style!

In contrast to a DTIYS, where the goal is to recreate an existing piece, the FTIYS is about making a provided sketch your own.

All necessary infos are on the slides, but here a summary:

Deadline is December 1st.

(Can be extended if asked for.)

Sketches can be found here:

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/10xPkvv588FX8mNj5AdNAWT8Y0TW0KRWK?usp=sharing

There’s only 2 rules:

- It has to be the same character

- It should be obvious which sketch the finished piece is based on.

Other than that, you are allowed to work as freely as you want. Just colouring the sketch, actually finishing it, or heck, even going beyond that. You also don’t have to keep true to my art style! You can totally put your own spin on it. As long as the concept is upheld, it’s viable for entry.

Entries should either be posted with the tag #grimmyftiys (and tag me), or dm-ed to me directly. You’re also allowed to work on as many sketches as your heart desires, but mind you, all of them will be counted as one entry.

Prices:

1st place - Full Body, Full Render Character Illustration (proper lineart)

2nd place - Half Body, Simple Style Character Illustration (somewhat messy lineart)

3rd place - Bust, Flat Colour Character Illustration (coloured sketch)

Depending on the amount of entries, I also might do some sketches for honorable mentions!

I made sure to put a wide variety of sketches. I have some really rough ones, some more clean ones, some borderline lineart. Some are never seen sketches, some are sketches of stuff I’ve posted. I also included a ton of different fandoms - e.g. Undertale, Genshin, Trigun or Little Nightmares, just to name a few. I’m sure there’s something for everyone!

I hope you guys have fun with this!!!!

Also, on a side note, you can freely use these sketches for practice or just for fun, even if you DONT wanna participate. But if you do end up uploading them somewhere, do please remember to credit me, thaaaanks.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Calling Your Name - No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: This one’s very sad, and very horny. I’m pregaming for Chapter 21. Title from I Don't Want to Live Forever by Taylor Swift and Zayn Malik.

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary/Warnings: Ben's first birthday awake isn't great. Takes place in Chapter 19. Usual warnings, with extra emphasis on smut.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, angst, smut

The last birthday Ben had celebrated was his 68th. Big fucking party, with lions and champagne, where women who Ben couldn’t remember the names of had thrown themselves at him, and men he’d never met in his life had congratulated him on turing 27.

It had been his eighteenth 27th birthday party. In another twelve years, he'd be 28. 

The event had cost a small fortune. Likely the GDP of one of those tiny fucking European countries that had been forming as the Soviet Union fell apart. Vought had rented him a castle—Ben hadn’t even known America had castles—and flown thousands of people Ben didn’t like out to celebrate.

Today he was 106, and alone in a haunted apartment as Her voice in his head called him old.

Did you take your meds this morning, grandpa?

No. Mallory still won’t just fucking give me drugs.

He could picture Her teasing pout. Woe is you, Pretty Boy. 106 and nobody to buy you cocaine.

He sighed into the empty room, and a small part of him still hoped she’d just appear. She’d walk out of the bedroom door or in from the hall, and she'd throw herself into Ben’s arms. She'd call him a grumpy cunt, and he’d get to kiss Her until she moaned and pleaded, and tell her he loved her. Maybe she’d get on her knees, or let Ben fuck her right here on the sofa. She’d smile at him. She taunt him and ask if Social Security had an expiration date, but she’d be smiling at Ben the whole time so he’d just scoff and let her.

She hadn’t told Ben her own birthday. He’d asked, once, all the way back in the safe housem, and She’d laughed. Told him she stopped celebrating her birthday when Homelander kidnapped her. 

“It loses the magic, Pretty Boy.” Her voice had been amused and bored, but there had been something hollow in Her eyes. “Being legally dead makes birthdays seem kind of pointless.”

He’d dropped it then. Now he wished he hadn’t. Ben wanted to know so that he could be a pain in everyone’s ass about it. He’d make them throw a party, and someone would provide a cake—homemade, chocolate, with a disgusting amount of frosting and ice cream just in case She hated cake—and everyone would sing that stupid birthday song in a voice worse than Hers until She felt loved. 

He’d make sure she felt loved. Ben would buy her a gift—he wasn’t sure what, but he’d figure it out—and it would make her feel seen. Then he’d stand silently behind Her while everyone celebrated how fucking perfect she was, and cut the cake so he could make sure she got the largest piece. 

Then he’d fuck Her. He’d carry her home, into this same apartment, and up the stairs into the bed so he could fuck Her. Romantically. If Ben got to do this, it would have to be romantic. In this perfect world he was creating for himself, they’d been fucking for a while now and he’d already told Her he loved her, so he’d know all the things she likes in bed, and which of them made Her come apart the fastest. Ben would be able to use that knowledge to throughly wreck Her—turn her into a sweaty, moaning work of art below him—and remind her that he loved Her the whole time.

That was what he wanted for his birthday. Her, home, in Ben’s arms so he could fuck her and tell her he loved her. So he could get some proper fucking rest tonight, and wake up with Her at his side. So everything could finally be good again.

He didn’t have a cake. He hadn’t told anyone it was his birthday, because it didn’t really fucking feel important. They had work to do, and no one on the team was going to jump out of their chair to celebrate one of Ben’s infinite birthdays. So he grabbed a candle from the cabinet—Balsam and Cedar, Her surprisingly aggressive purchase—went to light it, and realized they didn’t actually own a lighter. She was a walking lighter, so neither of them had bothered to purchase one.

It was almost midnight. This dogshit fucking day—where he’d eaten dinner with the team and combed through Vought records and tried not to think about how She was here, wasn’t home—had been the same as yesterday. Would be the same as tomorrow. All the days would be the fucking same, numb, thoughtless shit until She was home.

She’d tell Ben her birthday when she got home. He’d figure out a way to get Her to tell him. He wouldn’t be able to trick it out of her the way she was always somehow getting Ben to say what she wanted him to. If he asked, she’d ignore him or tell him to shut the fuck up.

He could fuck it out of Her. That was the only field between them where Ben seemed to have the slightest advantage. She wasn’t as fucking excellent at hiding how much she wanted Ben as he was at hiding how much he wanted Her. But he had months of practice. Weeks and weeks in the safe house of fucking his hand to the thought of Her without her catching on. And every time Ben had touched her she’d whimpered his name and fallen apart and fucking begged, so that’s how he’d figure out Her birthday. He’d make her cum on his face once—just because he wanted to—then he’d fuck Her into the mattress until Her perfect, insane, brilliant fucking brain was empty and she was molding into Ben’s body.

He’d lean down, lips against Her ears, and hiss the question.

“When’s your birthday.”

She wouldn’t answer immediately. She’d just moan and stare at him with lust-blown, pretty eyes. So Ben would pull all the way out of Her until she whined, and slam back in hard enough to break the bed before asking again.

“Tell me your birthday, beautiful, or you don’t get to fucking cum.”

It would be a bluff. She was a goddamn force of nature when she came, and Ben wasn’t strong enough to deprive himself of watching Her lips part and head throw back, feel Her back arch off the bed and her cunt squeeze around his cock like it had before on his fingers, hear Her scream his name. Maybe She’d squirt. Ben had felt how fucking wet she could get, maybe if he fucked her right, She’d squirt.

And She’d call the bluff. Even in the haze of Ben’s  body over hers, between moans and begs, she’d call him on his shit.

“Fuck,” she whimpered when he repeated that same move again. “Fuck you, Ben-“

“Birthday.”

It would take a while, likely several minutes of that exact dance, but he’d get it. Ben would lean down to Her mouth and kiss Her, sloppy and deep, fucking her faster, and tell Her he loved her. 

Then She'd tell him, and cum.

This was a foolproof fucking plan. Ben was a goddamn genius.

Maybe I don’t have a birthday, Benjamin. Have you considered that?

Everyone has a fucking birthday.

Well, what’s yours?

Ben frowned into the air. She was a figment of his imagination, she should know his birthday. Today.

Oh. The room was silent for a second. I forgot, I guess. Sorry. 

Don’t apologize. If you want to do something for me, come home.

It wasn’t really worth saying. This wasn’t Her, and even if it said, of course, Pretty Boy. For your birthday. The real her would still be across the river at Vought tower. And Ben had to be okay with that.

I want to. You know I want to, but I can’t. I miss you and love you, Ben, more than anything, but I can’t come home.

He sighed. I miss you and love you too.

Stop saying that-

Shut the fuck up. If you’re allowed to say you love me, I can say it back.

But-

No. It’s my birthday, no telling me I can’t say that I love you on my birthday.

Silence, then okay. For your birthday. Old man.

I love you, brat.

I love you too, Benjamin. Happy birthday.

End Note: I made Ben a Taurus, and I stand by that.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

[evidenceof]

and roll credits for webgott valentine's week! long-ish post but i don't think it can be anything but saur...

haguenau is for lovers was me deciding to shoot for the moon after 1) meg wondered out loud about a webgott week (after injecting webgott into my brain), 2) i zoomed in on lieb reading sunday comics, feverishly tore through the stars and stripes archive only to realize that easy was in haguenau during valentine's week 3) caoimhe said, "haguenau is for lovers" and it sticking into my brain permanently.

that is to say, i am so very lucky to be friends with people whose thoughts are so infectious and always brilliant. would like to take this time to thank the people who held my sweaty hand all throughout my first stab at organizing a fan event.

tierney @kbsd my beloved!! thank you for literally putting up with my anxiety through all this and for reading (and proofreading) walls of text on gdocs to make sure i still sounded sane. putting up with wips for queueing and scheduling posts when i'm asleep even if you've had a Long Day of Moving houses. i would literally be in the trenches without you. thank you for never doubting me and for genuinely matching my (control) freak.

meg @ww2yaoi head webgott babe (let's all acknowledge that) for the really kind messages. they helped me more than you'd know!! licherally hilf wouldnt even be alive if i hadn't seen you post theee Webgott Wednesday Locket way back last year, and if you hadn't written lippenstift, down in the valley, no ghost looms (tbh all ur webgott) and made me spiral into this for good.

caoimhe @randlemartin. this'll sound weird but just trust ok. thank you for writing both text posts and fic that compel me to no end. the germ of the idea wouldn't have grown into anything good without it being fattened by your thoughts and words!! haguenau is for lovers <3 ik it isn't webgott, but reading delichon while prepping for this over the holidays kept me going fr.

karina @markedfordead and julia @joe-fuckingtwice-toye. your tags and everything you made throughout the event made me wanna cryyyy. they were all so sweet and genuinely, when i'd be fidgeting over the event day ahead, seeing that you two took the time to make something so lovely nearly every single day literally pacified the gnawing self-doubt hahaha thank you i mean it so much.

to everyone who participated!! wrote fics and drabbles, made web weaves, beautiful art that made me want to chew my screen because of how beautiful they all are, thank you so much!!!!!!! to everyone who rb-ed and liked, made valentines, my heart feels a lot bigger thanks to all of you.

shoutout to my laptop, photoshop, my secondhand wacom tablet that's been roi-ed the fuck out since november, my two hands, and futura condensed (1940s print would be NOTHING without you). thank god none of them decided to give up on me during event prep and proper. (and to my bubs who had to literally listen to me scream and yap about this from beginning to end. you are a saint. idk how i got so lucky to be with someone who supports my being a fujo wife with dead ww2 vets)

really wanted to keep my modding this on the down low, largely cos idk!! i just wanted the focus to be on webgott and the event, but also bc i knew this whole thing couldn't have come together because of a singular person, or even moreso, a singular interpretation of the ship. so i felt the distance was necessary. though i am proud, in a small way (im allowing myself a lil' bit of it), of being able to create a bunch of things for a pair i've fallen in love with, and for a group of people who hold so much affection for them.

all that to say! im glad to have made things with love, and (tw: cheesy as fuck) im only really able to do that bc im surrounded by people who love so beautifully. thank you all from da bottom of mi heart. if u read up until here. thank you for that too. ♡

♡ happy webgott wednesday. haguenau will always be for lovers. ♡

sorry this is literally too many scrolls down lmfao

[justatypicalwizard]

Meta-isekai | K. Bakugo ✧ Act I Scene II

-`♡´- In which Bakugo gets isekaied into a shoyo romance. -`♡´-

Peak stupidity ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Act I 𓆩⚝𓆪

Scene II: Eijiro is a pro basketball player now

ʚɞ “So, first of all let me introduce you to everyone, quietly that is.” The cat tagged along Katsuki's commute to school. Apparently he still went to UA but instead of a hero-school it was now a higher class, yet normal highschool.

“You just do your morning routine and I'll tell you where to go and who is who. Just carry something that I can sit on.” The cat meowed and yawned, digging its nails into Katsuki's school bag. He had to pretend he didn't notice.

“Have you always been such a lil piece of shit?” The boy asked, checking over his shoulder to see if no one spotted him supposedly cursing to himself.

“Same as you. Why do you think we were paired up? Now into the school building!”

ʚɞ Some key information that Bakugo took mental notes of.

ʚɞ He was in second grade. All of his class members were the same with the exception of quirks. Looking at some of them made him shiver, especially Mineta's hairstyle. Somehow it resembled the purple balls of his superpower.

ʚɞ Eijiro was a rising star in basketball. He still dyed his hair and got shit from the teachers about it but since he was one of the school's most promising students they let it slide ultimately. He was loud and obnoxious as always, with a tight group of fanboys circling him and his manliness.

ʚɞ Racoon eyes still had eyes like a racoon. She was devoted to some weird merge of gyaru meets scene meets emo, with dark eyeshadow and contact lenses. Somehow, she also slid past the teachers, always looking down. Guess this world really was a shoyo dream with all the weird loopholes. Anyway, Mina spent most of her time around the basketball team as one of the managers. Also she was not pink, which was weird, but she still kept a pinkish colour, like she was constantly blushing all over her body. Maybe some kind of freaky body paint.

ʚɞ Denki was stupid, blonde and a perverted. No changes here.

ʚɞ Deku was the class nerd with test scores better than college students. He was knuckles down in study groups and tutoring.

ʚɞ The rest seemed to pursue interests that in Katsuki's hero world became secondary. Yaoyorozu was rich and trying to upkeep her appearances (and had a fine china fetish). Jirou played the guitar, Mr. Tight-Pants Fast Legs was school representative, Ochaco was the class (and ass) sweetheart while Icy-Hot still had daddy issues.

At least Katsuki didn’t fall too much out of the loop to draw unwanted attention.

ʚɞ Katsuki v2 (that's how he called him in his head) had a specific crush. It was a girl from a different class that the now Katsuki had yet to meet.

This girl has never held a proper conversation with Katsuki v2 and the Black Cat has no clue why v2 fell in love with her. The cat descended into v2's life when he already developed the crush but failed at achieving anything human-relations wise miserably.

ʚɞ V2 was good at studying, one of the best in class. He also played the drums (good) and was a part of the martial arts club (fucking awsome). He worked-out regularly, ate well and lived with his parents.

ʚɞ He apparently kept close with Kirishima, Denki and Mina-

-who now swarmed him in the classroom.

“Have you heard the tea?” Denki leaned closer to Mina's ear.

“I swear if you stick a wet finger in my ear.”

“Good idea but no.” Dunceface smirked. “Jirou heard that Yaoyorozu went in on Ochaco talking over the phone about how much she crushes Midoriya.”

“And then Pat told Parvatti to tell Ron, whatever. Besides, it's common knowledge that these two belong together.” Mina slumped in her seat, pissed off that Denki's gossip was not juicy.

“Yeah, but I don’t see them getting together anytime soon so it's still spicy.” The (no longer electric) blonde shrugged.

“If you told me Yaoyorozu walked like in on them, then it would be spicy.”

“Kiri, tell her something! I'm supposed to be the perverted one.”

“Well it's not good to spread gossip or invade someone's privacy like that.” The redhead scratched his scalp.

“I need a comrade, not a mum!” Denki started whining. “Bakugo!”

“You're clutching at a straw here.” Mina laughed.

Katsuki wanted to open his mouth and tell them that there are more important things than Deku's miserable love life but then it hit him. For this lot, there weren't any more important things than goofing around, sliding through tests and having crushes. They had a totally normal highschool life without villain attacks, near-death experience and murderous training under Aizawa. And such v2 also had a normal highschool life. Maybe he was more invested in all these dramas?

“They should just fuck each other already.” Katsuki resorted to… something like this.

“Wow dude. So romantic.” Denki said and everyone gawked at Katsuki only blinking. “I always thought you didn't care about these things but I guess I was wrong, Mr. Bombastic. Maybe you'll become a heart-throb by the end of the year if you keep up this attitude.”

ʚɞ In the end Katsuki learned he should just act like himself. 

Tag list: @ita606 @blueberrysoaps

[butchdiaz]

tagged by @iinryer to do a 2024 fic roundup but i'm adding my videos in too because. uh. its fun to look back! and i want to!

MARCH

american teenager (36s)

my first ever commission! for my best friend bia! to this day i hear do what you want (do more!) everytime i listen to this song.

APRIL

arms (1:02)

this was for seti. and it hurt.

good luck babe! (1:11)

literally never felt euphoria the same since the week of bi buck when i made this. changed the timeline. (although i was so euphoric and excited to post that i cropped in a rush and left a little white line in one of the shots and it pisses me off massively to this day. yes im a virgo thanks for asking)

to open up my arms and give it all to you (2.5k)

my little buck coming out to chris fic with hints of buddie <3 bi buck got me writing again after months of literal Nothing. god bless

one of your girls (3:09)

kirby's vision went OFF. so proud of this one like. its gotta be one of my favs and i feel like it became a bit of a butchdiaz classic which makes me so happy :D

MAY

kill her freak out (1:33)

this video is my little baby. ohhh samia. ouaagh eddie.

scared of my guitar (2:23)

shoutout to the way the dialogue syncs up in this one. rly satisfying to me hehehe. honestly didn't think i'd like this one as much as i do but she hits hard

promise (1:15)

love when people commission me to edit songs im already currently obsessing over yay!!!!!

JUNE

happy to be here (2:16)

julien baker. eddie diaz. aka abby had a mental breakdown making this one.

closed hands, full of friends (45s)

this was my first time editing a song i had Never heard beforehand! 3 cheers for finding new music!!

JULY

l'amour de ma vie (3:26)

ok not to toot my own horn but. this one is good. i feel like i really told a story u know. and about now is when i started to play around with fun/more intricate text ooh ooooh

a burning hill (1:01)

this prompt was designed in a lab to kill me specifically. i wanted to do the whole song originally but i like. could not go on.

my ego dies at the end (2:49)

i reallyyyy like this one. long edits my beloved! i love to build to something. i rewatch this one often tbh. jensen mcrae is everythinggg

AUGUST

north star (2:16)

again, had never heard this song b4 i got this prompt and it got me obsessed with this searows album. this edit makes me feel all soft. rly loved incorporating fleabag into it bc like. fleabag for life. shoutout summerofbuddie for the inspo

feels like (58s)

this song has been on my buddie playlist(s) forever so i was So excited to get this prompt. it was so fun to make something. not depressing and just like. fluffy. fun fact i hand drew all the hearts for this in ps and they were such a pain to work with but i really love how it turned out cause i'd never done anything like that before :')

pink balloon (2:29)

finally made a proper buck amv. after so many eddie ones it was actually nice to switch it up. felt re-inspired! also always so inspired by samia ugh. i am an eddiegirl literally to my bones tho so this was both v hard and v fun to make.

SEPTEMBER

"i want a divorce" / "it was a date" (2:19)

the buckshannon parallels ouuugughhh. this was one of those ones that haunted me so persistently i literally was forced to make it. saw hanna's post and then blacked out and i was posting this.

had a feeling i could be someone (3k)

+

leave tonight or live and die this way (1.1k)

dyke buddie!!!!!!!! these fics are sooooo near and dear to my heart. i love to make everyone wlw! i love to project my butchness onto my fav characters! wrote these so fast (for me) like writing has Never flown out of me like that. i was possessed by the spirit of lesbianism. and. GOD. the response to these fics also makes me want to cry daily. the beautiful art that was created?????? for me and my little fic?????????? i actually can't believe it i love you guys so much. lesbians forever and ever and ever.

did it to myself (1:11)

another one of my favs. i think it slaps so hard tbh. i tried a lot of new stuff and it was so FUN. orla's music is so much fun to edit to i need to do another one of her songs asap.

afraid of heights (2:46)

boygenius wrote this for my friend buck buckley. got entirely consumed by this one. thank u han for being my buckafraidofheights warrior for life <3

headlock (2:23)

i love buck but i remember coming back to making an eddie amv and breathing a sigh of relief. i just Get him. its so easy. this one's underrated i think oop it kinda slaps

OCTOBER

savior complex (3:16)

this one was a rly good challenge and idek why. super happy with how it turned out though i like watching it back

NOVEMBER

funeral bell (2:54)

the buck thesis statement. to me. and such a crazy unique process. loved working w kaitlin on this one and sending her 10 million drafts (she rly got a behind the scenes tour yall and it was not pretty). this was an absolute BEAST to make despite it not even being that complicated. i think i just cared so much about making it perfect for my dear friend who trusted me with her visions and inspiration and that made it all the more special!

you get your dreams for free (14.8k)

drunk cuddling!!!!!!!! my longest fic i've posted to date and i fully thought i was never gonna finish it. i abandoned this last YEAR but im SO glad i came back to it and most of the reason for that is because of the absolutely lovely responses to my earlier fics this year <3 literally hilarious to me that i originally wanted to post this on halloween 2023. abby. abby no.

surrender my heart! (1:30)

post-confessions euphoria + a carly rae jepsen prompt? i was literally in heaven. SURRENDER UR HEART EDDIEEEEEEEEE

DECEMBER

every place leads back to your place (2.1k)

music inspires me soooo much (looks up at this post. no way right.) so i absolutely loved writing based off a song! and a chappell song nonetheless!! so fun to twist a breakup song around to fit Them. i particularly love the kiss in this one <3

oldie's station (3:17)

phew we're almost there! this one is recent but lowkey it feels like another classic to me already. i really really like it. making it felt like cooking a three course meal and watching it kinda feels like eating one :D (thank god) (i spent so many hours in that kitchen)

letter to god (1974) (2:27)

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letter to god (1983) (1:52)

putting these together bc they are sister songs and sister videos. first time in my life i've worked on two videos at once. it was fun because they kind of grew together and influenced each other very directly. not fun because i ran out of space and my laptop crashed. several times. these felt rly indulgent and raw. kind of shocking to me how perfect both songs feel for both of them. had a lot of fun messing with the voice/video filters to try and place these in their respective eras bc im obsessed with that aspect of the songs. halsey's artistry is crazy yall if u havent listened to her newest album GO. NOW.

the rush of slumber party kissing (3.2k)

posted this literally yesterday lol. also my first time writing smut. somehow. scary! but i did giggle all the way through writing this tbh. when buddie reveal their true nature as silly teenage girls >>>>>>>>>>

SPECIAL SHOUTOUT

fleabag au wip, who saw the light of day again this year. she could be finished in six months or six more years, but she Will be finished. im determined!

<3

ok if u read all that uh. wow congrats fhdhhdh im gonna get sappy for JUST A SEC now cause uh. im actually blown away by the support and love and appreciation this fandom has shown me this past year. you guys have given me so much confidence in my skills as both an editor and a writer and you also quite literally helped me pay my rent. by making videos about gay firefighters. its actually kind of mind blowing to me how lucky i am and i never want to take that for granted <3

to anyone who has commissioned me, or sent me a prompt, or left a comment on a fic, or a tag on a video, or sent me a kind ask, or subscribed to me, or followed me, or reblogged anything of mine this year: thank you.

im so grateful for this little community and all the friends and connections i have made through our collective insanity over a procedural drama on abc (neé fox). yall rock so hard.

<3

tagging @userbuddie @chronicowboy @confessionseddie @try-set-me-on-fire @userautumn @lovelettered @exhuastedpigeon @sibylsleaves @saryasy @team-118 @lemmeaskthedevil @eddiebabygirldiaz if u wanna do any sort of yearly roundup!

[ghostmoon1]

You know what, to start the year off, Imma make this lil appreciation post.

Now it's only been like, less than a year since I joined Tumblr about, I've been writing and drawing for years before this point, but the community here, especially the CoD community which I am mainly apart of just made me feel amazing. Everyone I've met here are some of the nicest people.

I have gotten my old hobbies back, giving me reason to write and draw again which have majorly helped with my own mental health, and now I just wanted to give the amazing people a shout out to start the year off, to hopefully make peoples days, and to just let them know that I appreciate yall!

In no specific order :3 and if you don't wanna be pinged again by me, please let me know and I won't!! No harm done, I hope this is okay :) and this is prob gonna be cringe or smt.. all sappy but like.Yeah here yall are lmao-

Putting them under the cut as there are a few :3

@gomzdrawfr - You've been a massive influence since I joined the CoD community, I adored your art from the very start, and your just such a sweet and kind person, one that I'm so thankful to have met, and so proud to be able to call you my friend. You're the first proper friend I've made here, and I can't tell you how much our talks make me smile every single time. And I'm also so thankful for the community you have sorta helped me get into, you've helped me feel comfortable interacting with more people here :3

@shadeops21 - You were honestly the person that got me to join Tumblr! I was looking for something to try and make my own Konig cosplay (that's been given up on bc motivation and Tik Tok just. yeahhh) and I found you, and all your amazing work! I basically made my account to see if you'd make any more, cause I just love what you do so much, it's got to be so helpful for so many people!!

@sleepyconfusedpotato - After Shadeops, you were the very second person I found here! And oh my gosh how much I obsessed (and still do) over your art, especially Jade. You inspired me to write my first ever fic on here, actually, where I made my first CoD oc ship with Soap, your art and what you do honestly helped me feel comfortable making something like that for myself, cause some of the toxic people on Tik Tok made me uneasy and unsure about that lol- And now, I finally have an OC I'm working in depth on, and you're my biggest reason to thank for that.

@soaps-mohawk - Your writing has inspired me so much, and I couldn't thank you enough for making your wonderful fic. I may not be like, a OG, but I've been there since around chapter 20 I think? I could be wrong, but half way through sorta. You are the biggest reason I started writing again here, you just create masterpieces. And this is the first time I've ever been hooked into a fic so much, and what got me into liking the Omegaverse (you hooked me and I can't let go of it now...) Thank you for taking your time with your writing, and thank you for all the inspiration you have given me.

@on-a-lucky-tide - Oh my gosh how much you have yanked me into the Nikprice community. I adore every single one of your writing pieces, and honestly, you are another who has helped inspire me to write more. All your writing is so filled with emotion and love, I want to be able to do that as well. Your a wonderful person, I've seen you interact with this community and everyone, and I just adore you as a person and all the hard work you put time and effort into creating.

@rainyrambles-overcod - I adore your oc's and rambles so much!! And I couldn't tell you how happy it makes me to have a friend that is okay with the tag games, I never know who to tag for those sorta things, but I actually feel okay tagging you and they are so fun and always brighten my mood :3 Keep creating, I can't wait to see what else you come up with. Thank you for all the tag games and fun!!

@nekrosmos - Yet another that has helped drag me into the Nikprice community or cult ig that too. Your art is absolutely amazing, I truly want to be able to draw like you do. Just everything about your art has me in awe, the emotion, the style, the love everything. Seeing your art brings me so much happiness! Oh and your writing is BEAUTIFUL. That also brings me joy to take a little time out of my day to sit and read the time and effort you put into everything, and how kind of a person you are. I always hope you'll keep creating, and always remember how much joy you bring both myself and others.

@daredaredoodles - I know we don't interact a whole lot, but you honestly mean a lot to me still. You were my first ever mutual on this site, and I will be forever grateful for this. Personally its anxiety that stops me from barging into peoples Dm's and talking, but yeah. Thank you for that, even if it is only a small thing.

@cricricorner - you were my first follower, and I still see you in my notifications from time to time, which always brings me joy! It's wonderful to see your followers still interact with your content, and I couldn't say how grateful I am. I couldn't tell you how happy I was to gain my first follower here, so thank you for taking your time to read my writing and see my art.

@daydreamsareallineed - You were pretty much the first person to show so much interest in my main fic!! And oh my gosh I couldn't ever tell you how much joy it brought me to read your comments, to have someone so interested in my writing, that personally I didn't even think was that good. I haven't given up completely on the fic dw, I'll hopefully update it soon! Motivation just go brrr. Thank you so much for all your support, it means the world to me.

And another shoutout to everyone who supports me, who follows me, and to every single one of you that like and reblog my content. I look through every single note I receive, I assure you none of you are left out.

And my final shoutout to everyone that creates on this site. The community here is like nothing I've ever experienced before. I adore scrolling through everyone's art, it all makes my day. I've never felt so comfortable and unjudged before. Thank you to everyone who contributes to this, you all make my day <3

This turned out a lot longer than I meant it to be- but I just wanted to share how I felt with this new year. I'm sorry if you'd rather not be pinged-

But have a lovely day :3 I love you all!!

[skriblee-ksk]

“I checked the drinks… Princes’ outfits are up to code… Grimmy’s with Ryoko right now… I didn’t forget anything, did I?”

“Okay. Ready as I’ll ever be…! Let’s make this ball a success!”

Set to Home Screen: Are you ready? I’ll wait for you, if you need me to.

Home Transition:

1: Woah… The chandeliers are so bright and sparkly… 12 arms from the bottom bowl, which are four more than the one in the Mirror Chamber, but the top… Ah, sorry!

2: Deuce called me Lady Kiyuu earlier, which really made me happy. I would have worn a pretty dress, but these clothes are a lot warmer and comfier. I think I managed to make myself look feminine either way!

3: Kalim’s really enjoying talking to the attendees. He seems to be getting friendly with everyone, including people from RSA! Must be because he’s familiar with hosting parties.

4: So many attractive people are here… I wonder if I’d be bothering them if I said I wanted to take a picture of them…?

Home, after Login: This ball is really fun! If I lean back on this wall and squint, it just looks like a blur of blue, white, and gold. I think it’s nice that there’s a time these schools can merge like this.

Tap Home:

1: I’m excited to vote for the Belle of the Ball! Huh? Oh, no, I never had any intent to participate. I just enjoy seeing pretty people.

2: Ah, what? Oh, I’m just reviewing my notepad to make sure I’m not forgetting any etiquette. I’m doing perfectly well, so far! I reviewed it before I entered too, but just in case, you know?

3: Oh, no, wait, Grim’s gonna devour the entire table of finger foods at this rate. I’ll be right back!

4: I know I’m supposed to be helping the princes out, but I’m not sure if I’m doing a proper job here… Hm? You think I’m doing pretty well? Mm… Hehe, thanks!

5: It’s a little bit harder than usual to catch the attention of the attendees here since there’s so many people… Well, I guess I just have to find better ways to make my presence known!

Glimmering Soirée is a twst fan event hosted by: @starry-night-rose!!

Groovy Lines: Unlocked

Notes and stuff under cut!!

Groovy art coming soon!! maybe. hopefully. i have the sketch done so hopefully i can finish lol. I slightly tried imitating the twst shading style, but idk.

I searched up men’s victorian era clothing and ended w making this design. few obvious design changes in the end (color) result, mostly the gloves.

Here’s the pic without the SR thing! And the sneak peak for the groovy (which i rlly tryharded on so maybe i should’ve listed it as an ssr but whatevs i’ll leave that to my friend + ryoko because ryoko deserves that ssr title)

And tag list for my friend who rlly wanted to be tagged in Kiyuu stuff (if you wanted be added, just tell me!!): @kathxrat-01

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: When you're forced to work in pairs/groups when you don't want to work in pairs/groups, work life, slice of life

Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have loved this story so much already, I did not expect so man tag requests! I'll do my best to live up to your expectations in this story that is pretty much writing itself. If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please let me know!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

The walk back to the library was longer than usual, but that was because you were now burdened with a task that was nearly impossible to complete with what was at your disposal. Not only was there so little provided, the personnel allotted was the complete opposite of what was necessary. It would have been laughable had it not been so pathetic. You, someone who normally worked with a set number of others, (most of which were virtual) was now forced into a group with two other members whom you have never even properly spoken to.

Loki probably hates me, he has to hate me. The man-person-god-prince-whatever-he-is has never even uttered a word to me until today! You thought back to the very first time you ever met the silent and brooding raven haired Asgardian.

It started off just like any other day, quiet and peaceful. It was just you, the books, and the sun. Though it was a state-of-the-art facility, the library was given a more soothing design with wooden shelving and tables, soft carpeting, comfortable seating of chairs and sofas, table lamps, and desks for laptops and computers to promote productivity and security. There were a few high-tech things, such as the book trolley being robotic and the security measures equal to the rest of the complex; but overall it evoked a sense of tradition.

You were leading the robot trolley filled with books through the shelves, returning items to their proper place, when you heard the chime at the door. Peeking your head out of the aisle, you were awestruck by the handsome young man whom you have never seen before, slowly walking in and looking around in what you could only describe as pure wonder. There was a sparkle of life in those blue eyes and the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. Setting the book in hand back on the trolley, you stepped out and gave a big smile.

“Hello, my name is Y/N. I’m the librarian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You cheerily greeted him, but only received silence in return as he walked further into the room without even a passing glance. There’s no way he didn’t hear me, right? I didn’t shout, but I wasn’t quiet either. He seems to be really excited about the library, so maybe he was too busy looking around? She opened her mouth to let him know she was here to assist if he needed anything, but he was nowhere to be seen. “I guess he really was just that eager.” You muttered to yourself as you finished your task and made your way to the main desk.

Who is he, anyway? He looks oddly familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on it. You dug through your memories, trying to find a name to the face. When it was clear that it was not something that would come to you right away, he let it be for now and tried your best to see if the newcomer was still here. Had it not been for the occasional sightings, you would have sworn your mind was playing tricks on you. When he finally settled on a few books, you waited for him to come to the desk to check out.

“Excuse me, sir!” You shouted after him as he went straight towards the door. His nose was already buried in one book, and two more were under his arm. It was too late. The alarm at the door began ringing, and a female computer voice came through the speakers.

“Please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk. I repeat, please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk.” You watched his head snap up and look around for the source of the disembodied voice when holographic floating arrows directed his attention towards you. You gave a slight wave and put on your best welcoming smile once more. He looked down at the books he held briefly before making his way over to the desk.

“I guess you didn’t hear me, I was trying to get your attention before you left. It’s fine, people make that mistake most of them the time when they're busy. May I please see the books?” He held out your hands, but he deposited the stack on to the desk and pushed it towards you. Ok, you pulled them closer. “Your ID as well, please.” You held out your hand once more and the man simply stared at you, bewildered, with scrunched eyebrows and a growing frown. Lifting your lanyard up, you pointed to your pass holder, which held your ID. “Your ID card, the one that gives you access to the various parts of this facility.” The continued silence was deafening as one of his hands slipped into one of his pockets and he pulled out his ID and placed it on the table. “Uh, thank you,” you mumble as you pick up the piece of plastic and tapped it against a panel to the right of your monitor. Loki? You stared at the name for a moment, the gears slowly turning in your head as you scanned the books one by one before handing them and his ID back to him. “You have two weeks to return or extend your borrow time. Please do not damage them or return them late, you will incur some fees if so. Thank you, I hope you enjoy them. If you need any,” you began to strike up conversation once more, but he took the books and left without a word, leaving you to awkwardly watch.

“Talk about intimidating! I had no idea they brought him here!” You let out a heavy sigh and plopped back into your chair. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him without those big gold horns! Did he really just ignore me, though? Maybe he’s shy? I don’t recall ever hearing him speak, though,” you muttered to yourself, swinging left to right. “He must’ve proven that he’s not dangerous if he’s allowed to be part of the Avenger’s team.” You shrugged and let the topic slide for now. You would give him time to grow accustomed to you…or so you thought.

The encounters that followed were nearly identical to the first. He would come in and completely ignore you, read for hours, check out books, and leave. Not a word came from his lips, and he only ever looked at you with you were not sure whether it was disdain or disgust. At some point, you completely gave up on speaking to him and simply took note of the books he liked. When he would go searching for something of interest, you would set a book that you believed he would enjoy beside the sofa he usually sat. It was clear she chose well, since he would always read and check it out. With all this in mind, you had come to the conclusion he cannot speak for some reason, and you were a rude stranger constantly chattering on to him. Not wanting to spoil his time in the library, you quickly adapted and remained silent in return. 

You dryly laughed at the memories that dropped on you like bricks. You were clearly thinking too highly of yourself, since today you had heard him speak quite clearly. Why would someone remain quiet for so long? After all attempts made to strike up conversation? There was only one valid solution: he hated you. The reason, you were not sure, but it was the only thing that made sense, and that meant you only had one Asgardian to rely on for assistance in your assignment.

Thor can only do so much since he is a main team member and one that is sent out on multiple missions globally. You pinched the bridge of your nose. Even if they forced Loki to assist, he’ll also be sent on various missions as well. I’ll have to wait for them to return every single time because those take priority over what I need to do. Then there’s training for the missions, training to keep working well as a team, meeting, and the press! The work is never going to get done! You wanted to rip your hair out from frustration as you roughly tousled it about and let out a loud groan of frustration once inside your sanctuary, the library. “And this is all if they say yes to helping me out. I doubt Fury is going to demand it, and Agent Hill isn’t going to go out of her way to persuade them. Just forget it, Y/N, fix the report and file it. Then just go on with your day just like you always do.”

“Thor, Loki, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Agent Hill greeted the brothers that came into her office.

“Of course we would come. It is not often that you call for anyone other than Stark or Rogers.” Thor gave an amicable smile, while Loki simply took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. “What is it that you wish to discuss with us?” Thor took the seat beside his brother.

“I won’t take much of your time, it is a new assignment that only the two of you can assist us with.” She took her seat once more and faced the two of them. “Director Fury has given a task to our Resources Management department, the lead of which works here at HQ with us. She is the Librarian. I’m sure you have seen her most of all.” She looked towards the younger prince.

Loki kept a passive outwardly expression while his mind quickly tried to pull out the information of this librarian. He was no stranger to meeting a multitude of people, but he was not foolish enough to assume he would be able to memorize everyone’s name and face. He was a prince of Asgard, the only people he needed to know of in detail ere dignitaries and other royals. This librarian was hardly someone he would have considered amongst the two categories.

“So what if I have?” He coolly questioned, unsure of what the agent was trying to get at with all of this. Is this the reason she requested an audience with us the week before? What task could they have possibly given such a department that requires our assistance? I am not some scribe! He wanted to snap at Hill, but he held his tongue. Though he was an Avenger now, he was still not fully trusted by anyone. He knew even Thor had his reservations, but they knew how the Mind Stone worked. They knew he was not lying, but they were clear in stating they did not know him and this chance was only given because of his brother, Thor.

“Well, it will make things easier for us. She needs assistance in translating all of our texts into English. The department needs to create digital copies of all our books and paper resources so that we can access them anywhere and any time. We do not have the means to simply assign large groups to this task, because it would lead to suffering in on ground missions and recon. The both of you have the ability of AllSpeak which can translate anything you say to English. When you are available, please assist the Librarian in translating the various texts to help speed up the process.”

“This is a side request?” Thor asked, wanting to clarify the priority of this.

“Yes, we do not wish for this to hinder any missions you are needed for. We are requesting you head to the library when you have the time to speak with her and set up a tentative schedule so that she can report back to Director Fury by the end of this month. By that time, she will have the necessary equipment as well. If he approves, then we can move forward in starting this task.”

“You want us to dictate books to her? So she can type it up? Do you not have programs that can instantly translate for you?” Loki frowned, crossing his arms in disapproval at this waste of time.

“Though there are plenty of translation software programs out there, none of them are a hundred percent accurate. They may translate directly word for word, which could destroy the concept of the passages. It may attempt to try to understand the concept, but get it completely wrong. Both of you will be able to read the text and understand the context of it, which will help her type a more accurate translation.” Thor loudly hummed as he considered the task. It was not something he was rather fond of, however he wanted to be of assistance if this would help the organization.

“I am to deployed on a mission with Rogers and Stark in a couple of days. I am not certain how long we will be away. Is it possible to extend the time of meeting with the Librarian?” 

“I am to head out with the spider and bird tomorrow evening and return in four days.” Loki added.

“Very well, I will have her look into your schedules and reach out to the both of you.  If it cannot be done together, I will have her meet with you separately. Your missions will always be a priority, and she is well aware of that. Thank you for your assistance, I’ll inform her of this development.” Agent Hill stood from her seat and the two brothers followed, stepping out of her office and making their way towards the common room.

“Have you actually met this Librarian, brother?” Thor was the one to break the silence.

“I have not the faintest clue on whom they are referring to. No one speaks to me in this sterile place, how am I supposed to meet anyone?” He scoffed. Who would want to talk to a monster such as me? “It doesn’t matter, we will meet this woman at some point and better understand this waste of time that we are being dragged into. If you’ll excuse me, I have a debriefing to sit through.” He turned down the hall on their left, leaving Thor with the harsh words of his reality.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @kats72 @kneelingformyloki