#I just think it's funny that it's suddenly come back

[dark-fics-4-you]

Thinking about an younger reader calling Dark!Dilf Rafe old and that’s he needs some viagra 😭LOL

Imagining his reaction 🤬

Softcore

Dark!Dad’sBestFriend/DILF!Rafe x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), ignoring safe words, smut, large age gap (20-30 years), spanking, choking, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, breeding kink, degradation, secret relationship, manipulation, daddy kink, Rafe uses ‘kid’ to refer to reader a couple times, Rafe wants to get reader pregnant against her will

A/N: In my mind Rafe is in his late 40s/early 50s in this and Reader is 19/early-mid 20s

⚠️CHECK ALL CONTENT WARNINGS BEFORE READING‼️⚠️

“Y’know, maybe I didn’t hear you correctly kid, would you mind repeating yourself?”

You could tell by the edge in his voice that you had succeeded in getting a reaction out of him, but the way his blue eyes darkened as he glared at you led you to swallow down your cockiness.

Your boyfriend’s tall frame crowded your vision as he approached the bed you were lounging on as he removed his boxers.

Glancing away didn’t help, as the older man’s large hand came to your chin, redirecting your attention back up to him as he towered above you. Still you found your eyes fixed on the spots where his dark blond hair had begun turning silver.

“What did you just say to me, Y/N?” He spoke slowly, as if you were child who was acting up.

Despite knowing that this was his way of giving you a chance to retract what you had just said, you huffed in annoyance, rolling your eyes at the man who was older than your own father, before repeating yourself with a small laugh, “I said, I’m getting you viagra for your birthday since you’re getting so old.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened in frustration, eyebrows furrowing together before suddenly moving the hand on your cheek to your throat, applying a light pressure that had your eyes widening in surprise.

“You think this is fucking funny?” Rafe growled before pinning you to the bed you were sitting on by your throat.

The back of your head hit the soft mattress, the force at which Rafe had grabbed you made your pink lingerie slip ride up, exposing your matching panties underneath and some of the soft skin of your tummy. He licked his lips as he watched as your nipples harden beneath the thin material.

“Rafe-” you eeked in surprise, your hand reaching up to grab the one at your throat.

“Still think this is a joke?”

It took almost no effort for him to grab you again, climbing onto the bed as he manhandled you into laying across his lap face down.

“Rafe! Stop it! I’m sorry, okay?!” Your desperate pleas for him to release you went unfulfilled, and as you thrashed on his lap, trying to break free, you already knew what was coming next in return for your careless joke, and you couldn’t tell if the pit in your stomach came from excitement or fear.

“Nah, I don’t think I am gonna stop,” goosebumps erupted across your skin when you felt him pull the material of your slip up your back, exposing your round ass to him.

You shivered when he placed his hand flat on your ass, rubbing your skin and lightly groping the fat of your butt.

The blond drew his hand back and your tensed in anticipation before he spanked you hard. The extra sting from his rings made you whine and you bit your lip to keep from crying out.

“What do you say?” His expectant voice reminded you of your rules.

“… thank you, daddy,” you reluctantly forced through gritted teeth.

This second strike was harder this time, on the same place he had hit you last and you cried out louder this time.

“Mm- thank you, daddy. I’m sorry,” you added at the end, stupidly hoping that niceties could get your through this punishment faster.

He spanked you again, this time smacking the untouched cheek, and you moaned at the sharp pain.

“Y’really think sucking up to me now is gonna help you out, sweetheart?” He said mockingly, as if he was reading your mind.

You were slower to answer him, his words taking longer to register as your body tried to numb the pain.

“N-no. And thank you, daddy.” You didn’t want to forget to thank him again, he only ever gave you one warning.

Rafe was clearly enjoying toying with you, you could feel his stiff cock poking against your thigh, further proof no viagra was needed.

After 4 more spanks, your eyes were leaking tears, lip wobbling as you mumbled out appreciations each time he struck your now bright red ass.

“Rafe! Please, I said I’m sorry, okay?! It was-” you hiccuped through tears, “it was just a stupid joke.”

You swore you felt his dick throb against you at the sound of your pleading voice.

He ignored you, however, instead striking your ass three times quickly and rough enough that you almost screamed from the pain and shock.

“Red light! Rafe please,” you sobbed out the safe word that you and Rafe always used, but the sound of him chuckling darkly in response made your blood run cold.

Pain bloomed across your already sore ass again and you whimpered. You were crying heavily now, and you brought your own hand to your mouth to muffle your weeping when he spanked you again.

“Have you learned your fucking lesson?” His stern voice came from above and you nodded immediately.

“Yes daddy, please! I’m so sorry.” You cried desperately.

You winced when you sensed his hand nearing you again, but this time, his thumb slipped between your legs and traced over your barely clothed slit.

You squirmed in his lap as his lazily thumbed your clit over your panties, whining when he applied pressure.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, you know that, kid? Pretty sick of you to be so goddamn drenched for an ‘old man’ like me.” Rafe mocked you, and to your embarrassment, you could feel yourself growing wetter when he slid your panties to the side and slowly pushed his thick middle finger into your slick cunt.

A whimper escaped your lips when he curled his finger inside you, and your hips twitched as you tried to make more friction between the two of you.

“Shut up,” you moaned before he finally started thrusting the digit into you.

“Please, we both know you get off on the fact that your father has no clue his little princess is sleeping with his best friend.” You didn’t have to see him to know the triumphant, jeering smirk he had playing across his lips.

You also didn’t deny what he said, because you couldn’t. No matter how completely fucked up it was, you did find sneaking behind your parents’ back to see an older man to be thrilling in the sickest way possible.

Not to mention how hard you had came on the several occasions the two of you had gotten close to being discovered (every time, his hand had slapped over your mouth to stifle your moans, but he didn’t stop fucking you until he emptied himself into the condom, no matter how high the risk of being caught).

Part of you suspected he was so careless at times because he wanted the two of you to get caught, a thought that was so unbelievable at first that you completely dismissed it, but when two times became three, and then three times became an almost weekly occurrence, you found it hard to deny that he seemed to enjoy putting you in situations where you could be discovered.

You felt him pull his finger out of you before grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back onto the bed, and you protested as he climbed over you, caging you beneath him with his big, veiny arms.

“How mad do ya think he’d be if I put a baby in you, huh, Y/N?” Your eyes widened as he looked down at you hungrily.

“Rafe-” you said warily, trying to sit up and get out from under him, but the older man easily grabbed your shoulder and pushed you back on the bed.

“I bet he’d kick you out of the house if you got knocked up.” Despite your kicking, his strong hands grabbed the straps of your panties, ripping them past your legs and tossing them behind him.

“But imagine how disappointed with you he’d be if he knew you let me do it,” Rafe chuckled, and more tears formed at your waterline as his words sunk in.

“Stop it, Rafe. I’m serious, this isn’t funny, it’s sick,” you couldn’t stop your voice from wavering as you looked up at him.

When one of his hands locked tight around your wrist, you whimpered, struggling against him to free yourself.

You froze when you felt the head of his thick cock rubbing against your slit, and Rafe’s grip on your wrist tightened as he started to push his tip inside of you.

“Stop fucking moving around, Y/N,” his gruff voice commanded.

Resisting did nothing to help you, and you were almost disgusted by how wet you felt as he forced himself deeper.

Taking all of Rafe’s cock was never a painless process for you, he was so thick it always felt like he was splitting you in half, even more-so now.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as he stretched you out slowly. Rafe groaned when his dick nudged your cervix, dropping his head to your neck and trailing sloppy kisses along the tender skin.

You moaned loudly, tensing at first when his lips found your throat, making the older man curse under his breath when you tightened around him.

“Shit, kid. You feel fucking amazing.” His breath tickled at your neck and you squirmed beneath him as you tried to adjust to the pressure between your legs.

Rafe’s free hand came to your throat, squeezing tight as he tilted his hips back and then slammed into you.

You whined, closing your eyes in surprise, pain outweighing the pleasure at first. His fingers twitched around your throat as he felt your walls grow slicker and he was able to fuck you faster.

Delirious waves of ecstasy clouded your mind, his thick cock stretched you out in a way that made your head spin.

Rafe’s grip on your throat tightened and you reached for his wrist, hoping that his hold on you would relent, but the older man just took it as a sign to rut into you harder.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, losing yourself in the rhythm of his pace, greedily grinding your hips to bring yourself closer to the edge.

When his free hand crept between your legs and his thumb began rubbing circles over your clit, you whined, opening your legs for him more so he could fuck you deeper and massage your clit easier.

“Daddy- I’m- fuck-” you mindlessly babbled between moans, already feeling your mind go blank with each snap of his hips.

“Yeah?” He groaned when he felt you pulse around him. “Gonna cum on this dick like daddy’s good girl?”

Alarm bells should have been sounding in your head, but in the moment, you cared too much about chasing pleasure rather than facing consequences to resist.

So you obeyed him.

You whimpered as you came undone, the wave of pleasure washing over you again and again as the blond pushed his cock into you relentlessly. Your body sagged against the bed, head lolling back as you rode out your orgasm.

Rafe could feel your walls pulsing and constricting around him, squeezing his cock so tight it almost hurt him.

He bit back a curse before reaching one of his strong arms behind your back, staying inside you the entire time as he pulled you up off the bed and onto his lap. Your legs fell to the side of his as he rutted into you from below.

The new position had your quaking thighs squeezing against him, and you wrapped an arm over his shoulder and around his back in an attempt to steady yourself. The change of angle made your head spin and you whimpered in pain as he split you open with his dick.

Rafe’s lips hungrily captured yours and your stomach flipped when he forced his tongue into your mouth, holding your head in place to kiss you deeper as he fucked you up and down on his cock.

When he broke the kiss, you both gasped for air, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten, “Fuck, kid. How’d I get so lucky?”

You couldn’t answer him, so lost in matching the movement of his hips that you couldn’t think about anything else.

His lips found your neck, nipping and kissing the tender skin to pull more moans from you.

“So perfect, sweetheart. M’ gonna fill you up,” he whispered into your throat between kisses.

At his words, you remembered why you had resisted in the first place, eyes widening as you squirmed in his lap. Rafe’s pace only increased as he locked his arm around your waist, pressing you against his bare chest and stopping you from pulling away as he pounded into you.

“Rafe- red light-!” you were cut off when his big hand covered your mouth, and you helplessly squealed against him.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, kid,” he snapped and you felt yourself unconsciously clench around him.

The older man drilled into you, stretching you out with each punishing thrust.

“Fuck- fuck!” He groaned, squeezing you against his chest as his hips stuttered and he came undone inside you.

You whined as you felt his hot seed flood your walls. Trying to get off of him proved fruitless when he held you in place and forced you to milk his cock of every drop.

The sticky feeling of his cum dripping down his cock deep inside of you was inescapable and you shuddered when he lightly bucked his hips to thrust himself up inside you again.

“Still think I need viagra, you fucking brat?”

[oyohs]

18+, post brazil arc hinata, heavy makeout scene, implied sex

The first warning sign is the sound of your television ringing out. You can hear it, even outside the door. It plays out a muffled commentary, followed by excited cheers and screams, but to you, this is beginning to sound like a soundtrack of a horror movie. Your fingers pause on the key, heart racing.

You make sure to save your electricity bill every time you go out—it’s become a habit. There is just no way you forgot to do it today. As depressing as it is to admit, your life had been such a monotonous repeat of last week that even a slight change of habit like that would’ve been the most excitement you would feel for the past three years.

This is no longer exciting. This is just horrifying.

Usually, you’d enter and greet no one in particular, kick off your shoes in an impressively lazy manner, then pluck them back up and store them properly, place your groceries on the counter, lie down on the couch, then pass the fuck out. It’s been a routine. But today, you slide your phone out of your pocket, text Yachi, if i don’t reply in an hour, call sugawara-san and the police, and turn the key with a click!

You’re instantly greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar pair of shoes, deposited neatly beside where you would usually place yours. They’re too big for your feet. Next comes the turned up TV, maxed to a hundred—to the point where you can feel the buzz on your feet.

You see him right away, sprawled on your flimsy couch. It’s hard to miss him even when you try anyway, with the shock of orange hair illuminated by the blue of your TV.

But you must be hallucinating. Hinata is in Brazil. He should not be here. He should not have his arm over the head of your couch, he should not be drinking out of the glass you use every day—he should… he should not…

You flick the lights on and your mouth dries.

Hinata’s head whips around, eyes wide in surprise, before it melts into a pleased grin.

“Y/N! You’re back!” he exclaims. If you had a pet, it would surely react like that.

See, the problem is this: You and Hinata Shouyou are best friends. Friendly enough for you to call him Shouyou, for you to miss him so much when he left that it left an ache in your chest for too long, for him to update you about his troubles in Rio De Janeiro, for him to come over unannounced (apparently), and friendly for you to try and bury your feelings away to not ruin what you had.

Hinata shifts his torso to face you fully. “Y/N?”

Then his expression falls, and it takes a shudder from your shoulders to realize that you’re crying.

Hinata drops the remote and hurries over to you, large hands cupping your cheeks. He’s so, so warm, and real, and he’s asking you ‘what’s wrong? Are you okay?’ And no, you’re not okay. You thought that those two years without him would’ve helped you get rid of your feelings, but your heart is lurching to your throat and tears continue to leak from your eyes.

“I don’t…” You sniffle. “It’s not stopping.”

He murmurs your name so lovingly that you just cry harder.

You’re stupid to think that you can even get rid of it. Hinata wipes a stray tear with his thumb, leaving a scorching trail. You hiccup pathetically, dropping your groceries to hug him fully. His warmth envelops you as he lifts you by the waist to hug you back. You feel your feet lift off the ground.

“S-Shouyou,” you wail, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “You didn’t— You didn’t tell me—”

You then hit him on the chest, but it doesn’t work in your favor when you realize how sturdy it is and you must’ve been like a pawing kitten clinging onto him. You suddenly become aware of this, and push off, but he keeps you pressed against him.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Hinata says softly, but the gleam in his eye and his amused smile betrays him.

You frown. “This isn’t funny.”

Hinata smiles wider. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“How did you even get in?”

Hinata shrugs. “You gave Yamaguchi your spare key. He helped me out.”

“You didn’t tell me you were back! I would’ve picked you up!”

Hinata laughs. “I wanted to surprise you. That’d be counterproductive.”

Against your morals, you jab a finger on his chest again. Just to test it. It is still as firm as about five seconds ago. “Did you do this to Yamaguchi or Hitoka, too? Huh? You idiot!”

“No, of course not. Just you,” he says it like it should be obvious.

What’s so obvious about your best friend holding you by the waist as you two stand in the doorway of your apartment, and your heart is racing because he’s gotten unfairly hotter? Nothing about this is obvious. Nothing about this is normal.

“I didn’t expect you to cry, though,” he says after a while.

You pull on his ear until he starts whining for you to stop.

You sit on your dingy couch as the TV plays out a sports channel that Hinata must’ve tuned in into while you haven’t arrived yet. It shouldn’t make you fond, but it does. He’s lowered the volume to 5%, and neither of you are paying attention. 

“Sorry,” Hinata mumbles in defeat.

That shouldn’t make you forgive him in an instant, but it does.

“I could’ve at least prepared something for you,” you say, embarrassed by the state of your apartment. You really meant that so you could at least make your place look more presentable had you known Hinata Shouyou would be coming over. What if you had a stray underwear lying around somewhere?

Hinata turns to you with a kicked puppy expression, bottom lip jutted out. “You went from crying to angry in a flash, it scared me.”

“I’m not angry, Shouyou. Just—you know. A warning next time. I’m embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Over what?”

“It’s rude, Sho. You should be embarrassed!” You knuckle his head, momentarily forgetting how soft his hair is. It’s been years since you’ve touched it. You linger on it for a while, and he lets you.

Hinata just laughs in delight, his hands finding home on your hips. “You don’t have to prepare anything or clean up for me. I’d be coming over all the time now, anyway.”

“You’re a pro athlete now. Know your priorities!”

“You are my priority.”

You shove your accent pillow on his face. He yells in retaliation, but it’s mostly to hide your flustered, wide-eyed expression. Hinata is stronger, though. He pulls your hand off and grins at you, like you nearly straddling his lap is normal.

You realize you’ve been staring at him for too long. Shit. Seriously? Way to waste those two years trying to move on.

Hinata’s hand slides down to the small of your back when you move away, stopping you. His expression is more serious now, facing your gaze head-on. This is a terrifying position you’re in.

“I missed you,” Hinata says.

You pause. Wherever this was going, you were expecting it to just be a heated one night stand. You expected for it to end up with him on your bed, for him to never bring it up, and for you to regret hurting yourself years later. But Hinata says:

“I missed you so much,” he says, brows pinched to convey his earnestness. “My buddy, Heitor—he got married. I was invited. I clapped for them, but I just kept thinking about you.”

Oh.

“Well—I… I missed you, too, of course,” you stammer out, your pitch getting higher and higher as his other hand moves to the back of your thigh.

“You know, two years without you made me realize a lot of things,” Hinata tells you, never breaking eye contact.  “A lot. You don’t know how many times I wanted to just risk everything and call you, but I wanted to do it here.”

“R-Really now?”

“You can tell me to stop, okay?” he says, and oh god, you know where this is going. “And we can forget I did this.”

You should tell him to stop. This is Hinata Shouyou, your best friend (and crush) since Karasuno High. Hinata Shouyou, who you watched grow up and get to where he is now—now being on your couch as you’re actually straddling him.

Instead, what comes out is: “Please.”

Hinata kisses you fiercely, not dissimilar to how he comes off in court—grand and dramatic and everything all at once. You tug on his wild hair, pulling on a few strands, and he makes a really pretty noise that makes something burn in your stomach. He gets revenge when his large hand trails to your ass and pushes you to sit on his lap. You may or may not have made an embarrassing noise in return.

Hinata chuckles. “That was hot.”

You scowl, locking his hips with your thighs, and he’s quick to shut up. It’s difficult for you, considering how thick he’s gotten, but the dazed fog in his eyes makes it all worth it.

You dive in for another heated kiss. His hand slides up your shorts, lingers on your inner thigh, where your skin meets his. It makes you gasp at the heat he’s emanating, rolling off of him physically. He pushes his tongue in your mouth, and your eyes might have just rolled back.

When you have to pull back for air, Hinata is gnawing on his bottom lip so hard that it swells up the way your lips are feeling.

“Fuck,” he says, with feeling, frowning.

You shiver when his hands continue to explore around your thighs. The cold breeze of the evening air then the sweltering heat of Hinata’s palms has you making pitiful, pitiful noises that makes Hinata groan into your neck, like you’re hurting him.

“Shouyou,” you breathe weakly.

Hinata’s sharp gaze cuts to yours, then he’s on top and you’re underneath him in a flash, caged by his arms. Your breath is knocked out of your lungs, and you could excuse it to his speed, but it’s really from just how easily he’s molding you to his liking.

“Sho—”

He rests a finger on top of your lips. It would’ve been difficult if it was just the TV flooding the room with light, but in this, you can see how red his ears have gotten.

“Stop… saying my name like that,” he says weakly.

You belatedly realize that this is him embarrassed, and laugh at his little problem. He looks at you and resembles a wounded animal.

“Shouyou,” you say, then pointedly roll your hips and grin when he stutters on a groan.

“Y/N!” he whines, as if trying to chide you, but he’s also moving his hips. It might be absentmindedly, seeing how he looks so far gone in bliss.

“Shouyou,” you repeat. “I want to take it further. So stop stalling take off your damn shirt already.”

At the green light, he hurriedly pulls his shirt off, fumbling for a second when it catches on his ear. He murmurs in embarrassment, but you’re not paying attention. 

You trace his tan lines, lining his arms and would only be really visible if he was topless, like how he is now. His abs expand and contract with each heavy breath as he sucks on the skin under your jaw, hands moving everywhere, frantic, needy. He whimpers weakly every time you move against his hard-on, and the sound fuels you even more to tear him apart.

Two years trying to push him away. Hilarious. If all it took was one unexpected night for Hinata Shouyou to lose his mind over your hips, you would’ve risked it all instead of wallowing alone.

He pants, muscles flexing, and you breathe out a whine, trembling. You let him slide your shorts down, let him pull off your shirt, let him kiss you on your shoulder, your waist, then the inside of your thigh. You let him do more because he keeps looking at you like he wants nothing more than to be here, pupils blown wide and hands desperate, as if even a second without touching you would kill him.

You tug on his hair in warning when his nose brushes against the source of your heat. Hinata pulls back, looking dazed and upset you’re pushing him off. But you haven’t had the chance to tell him earlier, so you’ll tell him now. 

“Shouyou,” you say.

Hinata reluctantly tears his eyes away from the mark in between your legs to look you in the eye. “Yeah?” 

“Welcome home.”

Later that morning, you have about three missed calls from Sugawara, and over fifty from Yachi. In apology, Hinata sends them a picture of him on your bed, grinning smugly, like he’s just won a particularly hard match. He sends it off with a caption that read: I’m home.

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Class 1A boys getting a surprise kiss──☆*:・ﾟ

MHA/fem!reader

Characters: Izuku, katsuki, Shoto, Tenya, Eijirou, Denki, Sero, Tokoyami, Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Shoji, Koji!

IZUKU~

Surprising him scares him so much (poor guy) he either flinches back or starts instantly blushing. You come up behind him as quiet as can be and give him a little kiss on the cheek he will flip!

“aaAHHHHH- oh… h-hey y/n…your scared me…” “aw sorry I just wanted to give you a kiss~” “dont sneak up on me y/n! Your gunna get thrown threw a wall-” “Aw I just wanted to show you lovee!” “Warn me next time!” The whole time he was reddd~

KATSUKI~

Bro thinks he’s so cool trying to tease you with sneak kissed but the second you do it back to him it’s suddenly ‘not funny anymore’. So whenever you surprise kiss him he pushes you off and huffs like a baby

“Surprise~” “UGH WHAT ARE Y-YOU DOING!!” “Aw why so mad?” “ITS NOT FUNNY STOP IT!” He covered his face with one hand because he knows he’s turning red “aw my suki likes kissed! Mwa mwa mwaaa” “STOP!!”

SHOTO~

He doesn’t understand that he deserves kisses, especially when he didn’t do anything to ‘deserve’ the kiss. So when you surprise kiss him he is confused as he Is flustered

“W…what was that for?” “I can’t give you a kiss?” “Uhm I guess you can but I didn’t do anything-” “you don’t need too! I just wanted a kiss” “really? Well thank you…may I have another? For free?” “heh yes for free~"

TENYA~

He wants to be “cool” so bad but he can’t with you~ so whenever you give him a sneaky kiss he’s just like “stopppp :>” and either runs away or covers his face with both hands (yk how he does)

“What was that…” “uhm a kiss?” “Oh!…whatever….” “…” “heheheheehehehehe” “uh?” He just covers his face and wiggles like a weirdo- “hehe she kissed mee”

EIJIROU~

Wants to act cool and kinda does? Whenever you sneak kiss him he does it back to make it seem like not a big deal but flaunts it to his friends later~

“Aw thanks y/n! Mwa” “your so cute~!” You smother his face in kisses which he did not mind!! “T-thank you…a-again-“ “anything for youuu” 10 minutes later: “YOU GUYS SHE KISSED LIKE EVERY INCH OF MY FACE?!”

DENKI~

Yk that stupid Face he does when he short circuits, yeah he makes that face intentionally when you scare him with a kiss on the cheek. He jumps, maybe yelps a little then he realizes it’s you and makes that stupid face-

“AUH!” “It’s me…?” “Oh…. (-ヮ-)” “don’t ever make that face at me again what-” “sorry! You just caught me off gaurd!” “You just want another kiss huh?” “Yes.” “Fine but that face is not cute”

SERO~

The only time it ever really gets to him is if it’s in public!! So when you sneak up on him and give him a kiss when he’s with his friends he will get so flustered and pushes you away while looking at the ground~

“Mwaa hey babe” “Y/N?!” “What?” He pushes you out of ear shot from his friends “d-dont do that infront of my friends! It’s embarrassing!” “Is being kissed embarrassing or is you being red embarrassing?” “Shut up.” He walks back to his friends acting like you didn’t exist . Later when you give him the silent treatment for ignoring you he won’t leave you alone till he gets another kiss

TOKOYAMI~

Most of the time dark shadow snitches on you before you even get to him, but the few times you sneak past him is so cute! When you startle him with a cheek kiss he jump and his feathers puff out in fear. Then acts like he wasn’t scared at all

“No need to puff up it was just a kiss?” “Uh? Puff up I don’t know what you mean.” “Your feathers are puffed out? Ohhh you got scared!!” “Not possible!” “Deny it all you want!…you are really fluffy though” “stop!” He turns his back to you so he can be flustered in peace

AOYAMA~

Stuck up little shit. But you know it’s all in good fun, he does love you but sometimes you think he loves himself a little more which he doesn’t (off character ik, it’s a HC ok!) so mostly when you surprise kiss him he just makes it abt him-

“Aw y/n~ id Kiss me every second of the day too!” “Uh-” “I am so awfully dazzling I couldn’t resist either~” “ok no more kisses for you.” “WAIT WHAT NO?”

OJIRO~

Smart boy so he has made it a habit of keeping his tail circled around him so he can feel your footsteps through the floor, or trip you (LOL) so the only way you can get him is when he is sitting. He thinks he’s safe when he’s sitting but he isn’t

You creep up behind him and grab his shoulder, you pull your head around his and give him a very aggressive kiss! “GOTCHAA” “y/n that’s not fair I wasn’t ready for that!” “It is so fair, I get to kiss you, and you get a kiss from me! Fair!” “Ugh! Next time warn me! So I can trip you” “what?”

SATO~

Big boy! He isn’t scared of surprise kisses at all, shockingly he is one of the few who don’t even flinch at all. So you just jump on his back randomly and smother his cheeks with kisses!

“Sneak attack! Mwa mwaaa MWAAA” “y/n~ stop!” “Why???” “Cuz i want a real one!” He points to his lips and you gave him a soft smooch there too! He also likes it when you squish is face when kissing himm

SHOJI~

Another one who doesn’t get scared, just really shy. You have seen him without a mask but he is still a little insecure about it (writing abt that later😍). So when you pull his mask down and kiss his lips he hides away sometimes~

“Shoji?” “Yes love?” You pull his mask down to give him a soft kiss on his lip before pulling it back up to not make him uncomfortable. He broke “that’s all~” “one moment…” he just crouches to the ground to hide for a second to think of a plan. When he’s done hiding he comes back up and kisses you back with rosy cheeks!

KOJI~

Just don’t, he will die, From being scared and or flustered. You have to warn him no matter what! So it normally goes like this

“Hey koji” “um…yes?” He only talks in private or if it’s important! “Im warning you, I’m gunna kiss you” “…hu-” smooch “there!…you gunna be ok?” He collapses to the ground hiding in his knees which are against his chest “mhm…” “your so cute~” “*squealing noise*”

Not proooooof readdddd cuz I’m lazyyyy😍

Literally gunna write class 1B next they need more love cuz they such cutiesss

[paradlselost]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄

black noir x female reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ this is set in SEASON FOUR so obvious spoilers ahead . this is just a drabble , i will post more about black noir in the future but i really needed to get a smut out for my own sanity 🙏 i need both earving and noir II . also that’s me under the table with him (:<

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ second person point of view , mentions of mourning , straight up smut : p in v , unprotected sex , semi - public sex , zero pullout game .

How could he explain it to anyone who would happen to walk in? That it was a mistake? A heat-of-the-moment interaction? It certainly didn’t feel like an accident; the way you gripped his dick like it was a lifeline. Maybe in this moment it was, truthfully, it felt like the only thing keeping you grounded to this earth.

The once cool glass table below you rocked back and forth as if uncertain on the legs that held it up. At some point you would be worried it would break below your combined weight; but the mushroom-like head of his cock slamming back into a certain bundle of nerves drained every thought from your mind.

Visitation was extremely limited thanks to everything Homelander and Sage were doing, but a special exception had been made for you. Earvings closest friend, his unrequited love come to gather some semblance of closure from the new person under the mask. Wearing his suit as if years of unrelenting loyalty to Vought was dumbed down to him being a character any actor could play.

Maybe it was stupid to think otherwise, to hope there would be any kind of memorial for the man you had loved so dearly; how could everyone move on so fast from someone who had been there for so long? It wasn’t fair; but maybe his memory was better off out of your mind - out of pain and suffering and with his friends for eternity. Whatever eternity looked like.

New Noir may be a bit clueless when it comes to his role, but he’s not stupid. He could pick up on the way you avoided looking at his mask at first or how you apologized under your breath every time your hand brushed his armor. You were the best lead he had to figure out how to play this character he was thrown into. Not for a second did he believe his predecessor was only a brain dead maniac.

And he could be wrong, but he had a feeling his hunch of Earving loving you back was true. How could he not? You were gorgeous, head tilted back and jaw slack, knuckles turning white from your grip on the other side of the table. He didn’t remove his mask, only the cup that covered his crotch was off. He had to be acquainted with that area of the suit as boners against the covering hurt most of the time, and taking off the suit to get off in a bathroom stall was far too difficult.

Closure, what a funny word for what was happening. Maybe you could imagine it was Earving behind you, pounding against your cunt and creating those sweet wet sounds that vibrated through the room; but at this point nothing but the rhythm of his cock slipping in and out of you at such a pace could stay on your mind.

The cameras watched you two, no doubt, it was the meeting room after all. Your warm breath and the sweat that trickled down your form had created a slight fog against the once cool desk, a surface slippery enough to make him grab your hips to keep you in position. Hard, like he didn’t know his own strength, but you wouldn’t mind the bruises in the shape of his gloves, would you?

Cock-drunk, fucked stupid but still smart enough to feel the stutter of his hips and the throb of his dick inside of you. Fantasies of Earving often ended in him fucking his cum that leaked out of you back in, but you were suddenly acutely aware that this wasn’t him. You didn’t know if he was sterile; an important question you had accidentally skipped right over.

“Wait wait-“

Too little too late. Just as you had suppressed your eyes from rolling back into your head for the millionth time; he let out a groan. Grabbing your hips to stay impossibly close to you and pushing inside as far as possible, letting himself paint the walls of your cunt with his cum.

Panting, a gloved hand traveled from your hips to the very front of your thighs. His body pressed against you; keeping you on the table as he caught his breath - mindlessly playing with your clit, as if it was second nature. After a moment or two he seemed to realize what he did; you could hear him hiss softly from behind you, embarrassed.

“Oooh fuck - I’m sorry.”

[deviousdeliciousness]

Just an Accident

Welp. Uh. OKAY - first off no actual harm comes to the tiny!

Still kinndaaa def angsty tho ngl - oop

~~~~~~~~~~

Astel yelped like a kicked dog - all high pitched and suddenly, painfully betrayed terrified - as a hand large enough to crush him beneath it came rushing down from far above. His legs collapsed underneath him, and he shot his arms up in a useless attempt to ward off his impending fate as he trembled in horror, only for the hand to abruptly stop.

For a second, everything was still. Then a giant face peered from around that palm that was now nothing but menacing in Astel's eyes, Chris looking down at him in surprise.

Chris's eyes were wide with his startlement, but they relaxed as he finally spotted Astel, casually moving his hand back away and to his distant side. "Woah, didn't see you there, buddy," he chuckled as easy as anything. He gave a funny little smile when he noticed Astel's tense, stiff posture, awkwardly joking, "Geez man, relax. You're acting like I was trynna kill you, or something."

And then, as if nothing had happened at all, the giant just... walked away, rubbing at the back of his neck as he headed for the living room.

Astel swallowed in large gulps of air, his trembling finally picking up now that the adrenaline from the shock finally hit his system. He shakily put a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his knees to his chest.

No, Chris hadn't been trying to kill him.

Astel couldn't help but think that that fact made it all the worse that the giant still almost had.

If Chris hadn't heard his scream - if he'd been wearing those headphones and blasting music like he was prone to do - Astel could be dead right now.

He could be nothing more than a smear of mangled bones protruding from his flesh in broken shards, crushed into a pulp without any intention behind it.

Just a giant's careless action, not looking where he was placing his hand before going to lean against a counter to reach a higher shelf, and Astel would be gone.

Or maybe he would've survived. Maybe the seemingly immeasurable weight of Chris's palm bearing down on him would've only landed on part of him - just an arm, or his legs.

And then Astel would be dead anyway. it was a feat approaching impossibility to fix a broken limb at his size. And no borrower could live a long life after losing the use of a limb.

An arm? Maybe. It wouldn't be a very good life, though. Climbing - basically an essential to a borrower's way of life - would from then on be out of the question. His sense of balance that he'd spent his entire life honing to a fine point would return to that of a helpless child's. His ability to care for himself the way a single borrower needed to would arguably be at less than that.

A leg? Both? He might as well kill himself then and there for how long he'd survive on his own afterwards.

And what other option would there be? Staying with Chris full-time? Losing his own autonomy and slowly but surely regressing to being treated as something less than - some kind of pet? Coddled and dehumanized and treated like an object rather than anything worth more -

Astel shuddered, burying his head against his knees.

It was fine. He was fine. None of that had happened, so there was no point in thinking about it.

Chris hadn't meant to come off as so callus about it, either, Astel was sure. The giant was probably thinking about something else, hadn't noticed how truly close he had come to -

Astel swallowed heavily, his arms curling across his chest to clutch at his ribs, soothing, comforting.

It was-

He was fine.

Chris cared about him, he did. It was just an accident - one that technically didn't even happen.

... so what if Astel's pulse refused to settle, if waking nightmares flashed across the backs of his eyelids with every squeezed-tight blink.

... so what if Astel couldn't help but now think that every carefully dealt out ounce of trust he had steadily handed out to the giant was built on a foundation of sand, of splintering wood that had already been eaten through from the very beginning.

--------

whow this was uhh another more depresso fic than expected, uhhhhhh ye

Not really loving how this turned out, but it's been a minute since I've posted a story soooo Huhzahz

[tohakumaru]

climb the stairs, the nomad is with you.

it is futile. you know this is the end. and it's quite alright, you've always been alright.

the steps are sturdy and forgiving though the hill is steep. it is not so much a struggle, but it drags. this is fine, a funny thing about time is that it passes regardless. whether you want to or not, you arrive at a lonely tree, so tall it almost eclipses the sky.

the tree has no leaves, only dry branches covered in flowers with bright red petals, from which buds of cotton-white silks burst out like stars spilling their guts over the emptiness of space.

...

this shame you live with.

that night she sleeps with her hair caked in mud

a top-shelf doll sits crossed-hand, stuffed with fluff and bone-dry eyes

passing divine judgement, you could swear its lips curl into a knife

...

with soft crackling sounds, the trees rises from sleep. it crouches towards you: branches reach out to envelope you in a wiry embrace, and lift you up. it cradles you like a mother does a child. when your head comes to rest on a barren patch on the trunk, the tree shudders: from a thin crack in the balk a flower grows and blooms. five petals like the rest, but an empty core. you look on with no resistance as a thin stalk climbs your neck, hangs over your face, and creeps into your right eye. it pulls from the socket a silver thread and attaches one end to the centre of the flower, which swirls and spins, pulling the thread from you as it does.

it dawns on you that you are being unravelled, quite literally.

for a very, very long time, you lay there and wait for sleep to come. it seems fitting, the motion of the flower-spool and the unbelievable lightness of coming undone work like a lullaby. ebbs and flows and tells you to go. it is fine, it is quite alright, even if there's nothing waiting, not even judgement. you can leave.

… and yet… you are still awake. how long must this take?

as though in answer, the flower suddenly stops spining, the tree tenses up - there is a snag in the thread. the line tangled in clumps forming a face, vaguely resembles that which was once buried in a shallow grave in your mind. this one won't go.

is this supposed to happen?

you frantically look for the nomad, but it is too far down. the panic sets in, but you don't have limbs to squirm nor mouth to scream. you are terrified. please, i will think of something, there must be a way. i am so sorry. i… i don't know what to do. i am still here. forgive me, i am scared, too. what do we do, darling? talk to me, please. what can i do?

like a bad joke, a crescent tore the night sky apart. you take a moment to make out the wicked smile of the moon - ear to ear as it begins with a theatrical cough:

"here you are!

all out of sorts, i see.

well, i did say it was your loss.

too bad, i don't want it anymore. a shame really,

could have been a nice dream.

do what you wish, bird.

i'm just a moon."

me.

and with that, the moon is gone. for good now, you can tell. then, all is still and quiet as the branches set you down, your eyes fixed on the red petals that slowly wither and fall to the ground. the tree has gone back to sleep.

the nomad stares at you. an unreadable expression spreads across its face as it slowly leans over and pushes its palm straight into your chest. you feel no pain as it opens your ribcage, and sets your lungs aside. soft fingers roaming in search. eventually, they find a tiny pair of wings clinging to your auricle and gently pluck it from your heart. in the light, the nomad…holds…

…

how ironic. we'd spoken about us at the end of the world, and i'm so sorry, darling, but i guess this is the world at the end of us.

cold, and getting harder to breathe.

as my wings flutter in the nomad's palm, i see the sky so wide. it's so cold here. i miss you, miss the aching warmth of your hunger, free falling in your heart.

once upon a time. there was a hole in your chest where i laid dying. lack of faith, the prophet diagnosed with a gesture of grandeur - no cures for it, keep praying. the fool.

there was a tunnel in your mind where your dreams bled and your scouring love leaked into the cold, cold world. help, it hurts like hell, i heard you say. could have done something about it, i didn't. i let you bleed to death, i hung you out to dry.

on top of the root-hill at the bottom of the dreaming tree, a nomad sits with a sand-eaten corpse. in its small, child-like hand, a moth takes one last breath. nothing changes in the world, but something has ended. yet, as all good nomads know, a walk doesn't end until it is home-time. nomads are neither moons nor trees, and despite their wanderings, they care very much about warm beds, good night kisses, and happy endings. the greatest nomad of all time once implied by gestures something along the line of, fuck tragedies, i've had enough, and all the other nomads thought that was a quite good point.

darling?

i love you.

this nomad then carefully tucks the moth into its breastpocket, stands up, gathers all it can of the corpse into a blanket, which is then neatly tied and slung over its back. steadily, it descends the root-hill, passes the groves of living-statues, and continues a brisk pace on its journey. just a bit more now, you'll be home before tomorrow arrives, it hums silently./

[chaostroberry1]

Hi, it's me again. How are you? I hope your day is great 😊 I am back to ask another request 🤭😅 Sorry if I ask too much this week 🙇‍♀️

Anyway, this time is about ror Poseidon (wanted to do Beel, but I am scared you already had enough with many Beel story 🤣🤣).

It was isekai-ed reader (kinda or sort off) like the reader is a witch and had read RoR, her favorite is Beelzebub. She hope she can went to RoR universe at least wanted to hug her bias once. But what she get is... she got asthraled (forgot the word. It was like your soul or ghost someshort of spiritual come to another place but you are kinda invisible and cannot be harmed since you are ghost and all.) instead you fall down to Poseidon lap.

Ror Poseidon of course angered and threw trident at you, only for it to just flew through you and you are unharmed. Unfortunately for both of you, you seems stuck with him because you try to get away or him get away it always end with you being dragged by force to him. He is very annoyed by not only because you are human but also because you insistent on wanting to meet Beelzebub. You both banter daily and all.

He grow fond of you, and deep down scared if you will suddenly move back or meet Beelzebub as he know your love for the flies (lowkey he though you are in love with the devil and not love him as a fans). And the day came where Poseidon cross with Beelzebub and he find himself so jealous at how you fawning over Beelzebub resulted in his very first argument with you and you huff and the reader having enough just kiss him... only to find herself go through him. Come the fluffy live between you two. The reader love teasing Poseidon who act as if he is not affected on outside but when it was only two of them, he is a big cuddler and softy.

Can you please made headcannon and story about it? It was up to you if it going to be after or before Ragnarok. Thank you so much. Have nice days and wonderful days 😘❤❤❤

Hi hun💕 thank you for this, it's so cute 😭 seeing a jelly Poseidon is actually funny to think abt ngl

Poseidon mini story+mini headcanons

Poseidon × isekai-ed!witch!reader

You find yourself scrolling through your phone, reading the newest chapters of record of Ragnarok, your all time favourite manga. Or maybe just something you read to pass the time, whatever. You fawned and giggled over your favourite character, specifically, Beelzebub. Poor baby, you wanted to give him a hug and kiss his face all over, since he didn't deserve any of this.

You so wanted to go there, but that was impossible. Your worlds were completely different, and he was fictional. He wasn't real. Or so you thought.

When you went to bed that night, your final thoughts being your bias, you suddenly open your eyes again, this time, the surroundings were different. It was all so colorful, like you were being sucked into a portal that led to someplace else.

"is this a dream?" You mumbled, before suddenly, you dropped, letting out a little squeak, looking up. Then...you saw the face of an angered god, who was just as surprised as you. But more pissed tho.

You landed on the lap of the tyrant of the sea, Poseidon. Great, just your luck. What the hell and how the hell did you end up on his lap? You couldn't even process when he took his trident.

You floated away, letting out little panicked sounds, as he got up, throwing it at you, only for it to pas through you, as you looked at him wide eyed. "Mortal, who do you think you are to commit such an act towards a god?"

When he heard your explanation, he let out a "tch" deciding to stop, before ordering you to leave, which you gladly did so. Well, that didn't go so well for you. With a magnetic force, your body was brought back to Poseidon, who looked at you like you just called him a bitch and slapped him in the face.

"I told you to leave."

"if you can see, I am struggling to!"

You recall reading a book about things like these, and you then start to connect the dots, coming to a conclusion that your soul had been transported to a completely different world, while your physical body was back in the other.

You and Poseidon tried to part ways, but no matter what you did, you kept being forced back to him. As mucha s he wanted to believe that you were faking it, you really looked like your were upset and struggling badly. So now he was just stuck with you.

At first, he found you annoying, the way you'd just float around while he walked, his movements always being watched by the little ghost on his ass, man this was a pain. You were a pathetic human, and your whines to meet Beelzebub were so irritating. But all that was passed him. It slowly came to him that he grew fond of you, he found himself entertained by watching you float around stupidly, and just be on his back all day, begging him to go near an ice cream truck so you could eat something tasty.

But when those thoughts came over him, another thought presented itself. What if you broke free from him, and set out to find Beelzebub? That, that really wasn't a nice thought. But the day came where by absolute luck, he walks passed Beelzebub, and he immediately looked behind him to find you squealing and fawning over the lord of the flies.

Poseidon had many fan girls, so why couldn't you have just been one of them? Before you could get near Beelzebub, Poseidon immediately distanced himself from the god, forcing you with him, making you pout and whine.

That was his last straw.

You were his now. So why do you look at other guys like that? It's obvious that you were sent to him for a reason. That resulted in an argument between the both of you. Before you finally had enough and decided to kiss him. You didn't know why, but your body acted on its own, what's worse is that you passed through him, as he stared at you with wide eyes, slowly calming himself. Before telling you to touch him.

You were confused, and still embarrassed, before you touched him, his body slowly turning spirit like, just like you. He had read about it before, and knew exactly what he was dealing with. And now that he knew the side effects, and everything else, he went over and kissed you, kissing you with so much passion. Knowing that nobody could see both of you. And from there, you both started a relationship.

The effects wore off, and he became a touchable and physical being once more. Looking at you, and then softly speaking. "You're mine now. Understand? That's an order."

Your heart beemed, you knew you loved beelzebub..but this exchange with Poseidon had completely altered your way of thinking.

He's not so bad after all...

________ random mini headcanons._____

- bro still does his best to make sure Beelzebub ain't anywhere close to you. Like literally he hates it when he even thinks about Beelzebub and you having an interaction. Nobody stealing his bae.

- he's cold and all, but when y'all are together, he's so needy.

- even if ur a ghost, you will either be floating round him, or be on his lap.

- sometimes, his brother's find him talking to himself, unaware that you were chatting with him. They fr thought he had an imaginary best friend.

- jealousy issues frfr

- when you told him about how you thought there could be a chance where you'll eventually be transported back to your world— mans was pissed. He would do so much to avoid that from happening, ordering servants to find anything about things like these, just to avoid it from happening.

- yes I mean everyone.

- he couldn't afford to lose you. Not when you are one of the very, VERY few people he had took a liking to. So anyone that posed as a threat shall be demolished.

- he hates how your eyes dart immediately to anyone who looked even the slightest bit of nice. Like he's literally over here wtf.

- I jus know that whenever you're hungry, he'd order his servant or smth to get him the most randomest shit like your favourite food, ice cream, or whatever you liked.

- people who serve it to him are dumbfounded when they see that Poseidon, THE Poseidon, is requesting...a dessert???

- only for him to stare at it with the most uninterested resting bitch face known to man. Until the food suddenly dissappears out of the blue without the god moving an inch. But they can't question it tho.

- and yo ass is just munching on the food, happily floating around and thanking him.

- his servants or anyone for that matter would be even more surprised when he started ordering them to buy stuff like clothes, jewelry, and all....

- was their god keeping a secret mistress??? But then again...they cannot ask. Or their heads would be served on a platter.

- he's a good boyfriend and hubby, y'all's marriage would come in so randomly after he just states in in a meeting with the other gods. Explaining everything and then dropping a "we're getting married in a few days"

- dang. Oh well, didn't matter. He was just happy that he was gonna seal the deal with you. All his, and he'd make sure you'd become immortal too, just like him.

____

@17kurodaayumu this was fun!

[tiredslepz]

QUIT PLAYING GAMES WITH MY HEART !

ʚ♡ɞ ~ angst, dabi afraid of commitment, situationship, (not proofread)

Ever since you've laid your eyes on Dabi, you knew that his eyes were his defining feature. You would always notice his cerulean eyes glowing as he entered the room.

When he would get hurt, he would go to you, just because you took med school. You would just see him barge in your apartment all bloodied, and all he would say is, "A little help here, maybe?" with an expression to cover up the pain. "Dabi! What have you gotten into now?" It annoys you, how you could be enjoying life, then Dabi crashes into your place, asking for help. You hear him chuckle as you grab the needed supplies, then going back to help him. "It's not too deep, is it?" your eyes are fixated on the bloodied sleeve, then looking back at him. "Why, you care that much about me?" his brow raises, teasing you even though he has blood spilling out of his body. "Just answer it, Dabi." you roll your eyes, inspecting it again. "Just a scratch, honestly." he watches you intently. "Right, take it off." you stand up, getting something else from the cupboard he can't see from his view. "If you wanted me to remove my shirt, you could've asked me properly, princess." he watches you, wanting to see the look on your face. It's funny to him, really, how you barely have a reaction. "The coat, dumbass. Not unless you have a wound under the shirt." you sigh, waiting for him to comply. "Whatever you say." he takes off his coat, tossing it somewhere else. "Just a scratch, huh? If this were any deeper, it would need stitches." you stare at him, then sigh looking at it again.

"I already cleaned it anyways." you could almost tell he was rolling his eyes at you. "Right.." you start bandaging him up, letting your thoughts get to you. He actually has a nice physique, one you've only seen when he's hurt. God, you wish that wasn't the requirement. Speaking of.. "Don't you guys have a doctor over there?" you stop bandaging for a while, waiting for him to answer your question. "What of it?" his brow raises. "I mean, you could definitely go to Doctor Garaki, or whatever his name is whenever you get hurt." you roll your eyes, and continue to bandage up his wounds. "Well, I could, but he's too snappy. You're more gentler with me." his eyes soften, unfortunately you don't see it. "..Right. All done." you stand up, cleaning up whatever mess he made.

He takes a look at it, then shrugs. "You want some cookies?" you ask from the kitchen. He follows your voice, and sits down by the counter. You take out the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, then you went to get two plates. "All this for me, huh?" he takes a cookie from the tray, already taking a bite from it. You come back with two plates, and notice a cookie missing. "Dabi! I was gonna take a picture of it!" you groan, putting down the plates. "You still can. Just with my bitten cookie." he places back the cookie in the tray, basically half-eaten. "Ugh, now people will think I'm impatient for food." you take out your phone, getting ready to take a picture of it. "Or that you have a date." You freeze for a moment, and look back at him, seeing his signature half-smirk whenever he got you looking like a deer in headlights. "Shut up." you take a picture of it, then give the cookie back. You sit down just besides him, taking three cookies for both of you.

While you're eating, your hand reaches out to hold his. You expect Dabi to tease you for it, but instead his hand instinctively goes closer to yours. Your hand grazes over his and— his phone gets a notification. He checks it out. He suddenly stands up, and gets his still bloodied coat, heading for the door. "Where are you going?" you ask, just before he leaves. "Duty calls." you hear him say, just as the door closes.

You're left with two plates, one empty, one full.

The next time you see him is when he invites you to the League. It's an abandoned building somehow made better. The outside looks like it could crumble anytime, but the inside is pretty decent. Well, you've seen worse. You go inside, seeing Kuroguri immediately. He escorts you to where everyone is, and you see Dabi waiting for you. "I'm surprised you haven't gotten hurt and visited me yet." you hum, and follow him to see the others. "What, miss me already?" he laughs, opening the door for you. "Ladies first." you roll your eyes, and enter the room. You see them— Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Compress, all of them. You bow out of respect, until you hear Dabi say it's not needed.

After all the introductions, it was tiring. You wanted to go lie down in your bed, now that you have to live here, apparently. "Oh yeah, uh, where do I sleep?" you ask, feeling sleepy already. You hear Shigaraki mutter something, but he says this instead, "You can sleep with Toga." you nod— "She can stay with me instead." you hear Dabi say. "No fair! I wanted to see how her blood tasted like~" Right. Toga is.. Toga. You then follow Dabi out the room, and go inside his. "Oh, a king sized bed? Where'd you guys get this?" you sit down on the edge of the bed. "Stole it, obviously." he sits down besides you. "Dabi.." your hand reaches for his again. "Did Shigaraki really call you for something.. last time?" this time, your hand reached his. His brow raises, and he smirks at your gesture. " 'Course he did. Why would I leave those cookies?" you groan, "Oh, so it's just the cookies then?" you glare at him. Then, he squeezes your hand. "Don't get all grumpy with me. You know that's not what I mean." he looks back at you, his demeanour softer, somehow. "Then what do you mean?" you return the gaze, hoping to kiss him. "Well—"

You hear Toga say something ahout a mission from the door, which then fades out. His hand slips from yours, and you're left dumbfounded. "Dabi-" it's gonna happen again, isn't it? "Maybe next time, princess." it's another mission, huh.

Ever since you've laid your eyes on Dabi, you knew that his eyes were his defining feature. And you would always notice how his cerulean eyes glowed as he left.

a/n: pls bare w me w this bcz i made this when the wifi was out so some things may not be correct, like the location descriptions.. also cmmt for pt2 :33

[sillygoofyqueer]

I need Yin Yu as a mother to He Xuan. Yeah, yeah, 'He Xuan is older than Yin Yu' BUT NO. IF YIN YU CAN LOOK AFTER HUA CHENG, HE CAN LOOK AFTER HE XUAN.

Think about it. He Xuan is rarely seen, but we know that he has to have some form of contact with Hua Cheng. I think it'd be funny as fuck if this contact is through Yin Yu, who pops by every couple of weeks for a report.

At first, that's all it is. For the first year or so, they have a very small, very formal relationship.

Then Yin Yu accidentally comes around when He Xuan is out. Obviously, he still needs the report, so he starts looking around and is appalled by everything. The random papers scattered everywhere, dirty plates left on the floor, RAW MEAT half eaten and then left to rot.

There seems to be no room that can be classed as He Xuan's private chambers - the closest is what Yin Yu labels He Xuan's 'rage room', filled with statues and paintings of Shi Wudu, but all trashed and ripped apart with what looked like claws, perhaps an axe, and very determined fangs.

Of course, by the time He Xuan is back, everything is in order and suddenly tidy, and he's getting cooked food shoved into his hands by a scolding Yin Yu, who is very used to dealing with Hua Cheng when he gets like this. However, He Xuan seems to be that but times ten, because Hua Cheng can be scolded into taking care of himself through “do you think your beloved god will want to see you if you're like this??”, but He Xuan only seems to care about his pets.

So, Yin Yu strong arms He Xuan into allowing himself to be taken care of and YES, he may be a bit protective of the ghost king that becomes a stroppy child the moment he's told to do something as heinous as take a bath.

At first, He Xuan is baring his teeth and threatening the other man's life, but he can't hurt Yin Yu (Hua Cheng would beat him dead). By the end of it, he just gets exasperated and reluctant and maybe a bit pleased at the care.

Hua Cheng finds amusement in this, because he enjoys reminding Yin Yu about He Xuan's capabilities to try and remind Yin Yu that he should probably not treat He Xuan like a child, just to receive a “you try to get that man into bed on time and tell me to treat him like a fully grown man”. Nobody can treat He Xuan the way Yin Yu does. Yin Yu is the kind of person to subtly threaten Shi Qingxuan like a mother would. "You hurt my baby boy and you'll know about it"

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[putuponpercy]

Losing my mind over that headcanon where Edward's crew always go by the same names so as not to upset him and I can't stop thinking about Edward suddenly having to work with a relief crew for some time like a month maybe more and they're nice and all but he does miss Charlie and Sidney dearly it's been ages since he last saw them and he's starting to wonder if they'll ever return. But then they do come back one day and Edward is ecstatic to see them again. Driver's voice sounds a little funny but they had been off for some time, maybe they were both fighting off the flu or something and his voice hasn't gone back to normal? And fireman's grown a full beard since Edward last saw him, it almost makes him look like a completely different person. But they're back! They can work together again and it's just like old times as if they never left and everything is running smoothly again. He's so happy that it almost flies over his funnel when he overhears the station master call his crew by two completely different names...or the panicked glance Charlie shoots his way while Sidney clears his throat and corrects the other man...or the way the colour drains from station master's face when his eyes meet Edward's and he fumbles to correct himself... Huh... How strange.

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics AU - Beginnings Part 2

Part 1

A properly written version of these Paris Olympics headcanons. Gale is on the U.S. equestrian eventing team, Bucky is a U.S. gymnast, and they meet on the plane to Paris.

Author's note: Part 2 because brevity is not my strong suit!!!

---

Crazy. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. 

That’s all Gale can think as he approaches the dining hall around 4:00 that afternoon. He keeps nervously running a hand through his hair and then frantically trying to fix it again, not wanting to look like too much of a mess for this… thing. That he isn’t sure is a date. Or not.

On his way to the dining hall, he realized belatedly that there’s a bit of grain staining his shirt sleeve, courtesy of Whiskey begging him for ear scratches while she finished her feed. He was already a few minutes late, and going back to his room to change was not an option. So he stepped into one of the bathrooms in the village and dabbed at it frantically with water, trying to get it out, but eventually resigned himself to the fact that he’s just destined to make a fool of himself. Luckily it’s only a small spot on the back of the sleeve. With any luck, it’ll go unnoticed. 

He can’t believe he’s doing this. That’s the theme of today, and it will continue to be the theme of today. He almost wonders if it’s actually happening. If he and John actually agreed to wander around together in lieu of doing it with any of their existing friends. But they’d remembered to exchange numbers this time, and there is no doubting the text on his phone that says ‘I’m outside the dining hall! See you soon!’ with a little smiley face emoji at the end. It makes Gale’s chest feel funny. 

“Buck!”

Gale turns his head to see Bucky standing by a bench outside the dining hall, and Gale waves, willing his heart rate to calm the fuck down. “Hey! You’re here.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him as he approaches, and he holds his hands out to the sides. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“No, I just…” Gale shakes his head at himself. “I’m glad you’re here.” He’s blowing this already, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that stained your shirt today,” Bucky muses, reaching out to tug at the back of Gale’s shirt sleeve.

“Whiskey,” Gale says by way of explanation. Then he rushes to add, “The horse. Not… not like the alcohol.”

Bucky lets go of the sleeve, smoothing it back down over Gale’s bicep. “I know.”

“I didn’t have time to change. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“Well.” Gale motions ahead of them, towards the Seine across the road from the dining hall. “Shall we?”

They set off in a random direction along the water, suddenly very aware of the fact that neither of them know where they’re going. They turn away from the river after a few minutes, wander past a few training facilities, run across the road in front of a bus that honks loudly at them, find out exactly which buildings they have the clearance to access. They grab an early dinner of ‘artisan’ sandwiches at one of the cafes, and Gale laughs when Bucky accidentally drops his last bite on the ground and is immediately swarmed by pigeons. They stop to take pictures – both genuine and silly – at multiple Olympic logo statues, and Bucky fights the urge to post a photo of them together on his social media, not yet ready to invite that kind of media storm. It’s nice, in a way. Just getting to exist with a person without worrying about the press. Even if it can only last a day. The media will be all over him again as soon as podium training starts, and he knows Gale will have his fair share of reporters after him with his events coming up right after opening ceremonies. 

But for an afternoon, they don’t have to be Olympic athletes. They don’t have to worry about medals or training or their image. They can just be together, enjoy the company, enjoy the beautiful, blue-sky day. It’s so simple, a few hours spent walking around aimlessly with someone he just met, but it gives Bucky a sense of calm that doesn’t normally exist within him.

By about 7pm, they find themselves in some bar not far from the Olympic Village, promising to themselves that they’ll be proper tourists and take the city by storm another day. As they weave their way through the crowd, hearing a babbling mix of different languages that drowns out any actual intelligible words, Gale trails behind Bucky towards the bar. A young, attractive bartender greets them as they snag two empty seats.

Gale turns toward Bucky and leans in, cheek to cheek, so Bucky can hear. “What do you want?”

“Oh, uh,” Bucky stammers, thrown off. “Whiskey?”

Gale nods and motions to the bartender. “Puis-je avoir un verre de whiskey pour mon ami, et… ah, un French soixante-quinze, s’il vous plaît.”

Bucky’s brain stops working. Suddenly all he can do is stare at Gale’s face and watch as he leans on the bartop, nodding and smiling at the bartender.

The bartender is smiling back. “Avec du cognac ou du gin?”

Gale tilts his head. “Que recommandez-vous?”

The bartender presses his hands against the bar top, leaning in close, conspiratorially. “Le cognac.”

“Ah oui, je veux ça.” Gale nods and grins at the bartender again. They continue speaking back and forth using what are probably words but to Bucky sounds like pretty, cursive gibberish. He recognizes that twinkling look in the bartender’s eyes, the suggestive upturn at the corner of his mouth, the way he leans too much on the bartop in an attempt to be close, friendly. He’s flirting with Gale, quite shamelessly. Bucky just can’t quite figure out if Gale is flirting back.

So Bucky does what any rational person would do when the near-stranger they're crushing on is getting flirted with by someone else. He leans in close to Gale, getting his attention, and he reaches a hand up to gently stroke a loose strand of hair back off of his forehead. He pushes every ounce of sweetness and softness he can into his smile so that Gale focuses those pretty eyes on him instead. The bartender takes the hint and goes about preparing their drinks.

“Jealous?” Gale asks lowly as he turns around on his bar stool, so he’s leaning back against the counter. Bucky doesn’t really answer, just makes a noncommittal huffing sort of noise. Gale shakes his head. “You barely know me, John.”

Bucky shrugs, leaning against the bartop. “I know enough.” He hesitates over his next words, but what the hell. “I want to know you.” Gale takes a deep breath that settles into a smile, and Bucky knows he didn’t fuck up even as Gale looks straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. “What did you just say to him?”

“I ordered you a whiskey, and myself a French 75. He asked if I wanted cognac or gin, I asked what he would recommend, he said cognac, and I said I’d take that. And then he asked if I wanted to hook up when he got off work.” Gale looks casually over at Bucky, who is not making any attempt to hide the alarm on his face, and he chuckles. “I’m kidding. He just asked if I’m here for the Games, and we talked a bit about that.”

“He totally wanted to hook up with you though.”

“Did he?” Gale shrugs and looks out over the crowd of people filling the room.

“How did you not notice?”

“I’m already here with someone else who I can’t take my eyes off of.”

As Gale levels a suggestive look back on him again, Bucky wills himself not to blush. He knows he fails. “I didn’t know you spoke French.”

“Oui,” Gale teases. The bartender sets a glass of whiskey down in front of Bucky, and then hands Gale his cocktail. Gale’s attention is all on Bucky now though. “Est-ce que tu aimes ça?”

Bucky takes a shaky breath before sipping his drink, looking at Gale over the rim of his glass. “I don’t know what you just asked me, but yes.”

Gale laughs and lifts his glass to his mouth, lets the taste of the cognac and champagne linger on his tongue. He looks back at Bucky, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of him. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

“Is that good or bad?” Bucky asks. His voice sounds confident, full of suggestion, but inside he’s teetering on an edge, waiting to see if Gale’s going to push him off or drag him up.

“Mmm.” Gale takes another sip, lets Bucky stew in silence, as if he has to think about it. Then the corner of his mouth pulls up in that way that Bucky is coming to love, and he says, “it’s good.”

So Bucky leans towards him, grabs the hair at the back of his head, and he kisses him. The taste of whiskey collides with notes of cognac and lemon, smokey and sweet. He kisses Gale in a way that he’s rarely kissed anyone else before: gentle and wanting, asking and taking, soft and smooth like a love song. And Gale lets him.

The night goes by in a haze after that, full of laughter and stories and casual touches. They both order a second drink and toast to the Games. It feels like they could talk forever, and it would still never be enough. John has never in his life believed in soulmates, but he also can’t come up with a better explanation for the way Gale Cleven just casually wandered into his life, flashing a smile and booking a rent-free stay in his mind like he was simply coming home.

John Egan never really thought he was the type of person someone could find a home in. But maybe he could be. 

When Gale’s phone rings in the middle of their maybe-probably-definitely-date, he mutters something by way of apology and accepts the call. “Hi Marge.”

“Benny says you’re not in your room. And you’re not with me. So where are you?”

“I’m fine, how are you?” Gale replies. He can hear Marge rolling her eyes.

“Gale, where are you?”

“I’m out. With a friend.” His eyes dart over to Bucky, who is making a show of not listening in too much.

“All your friends are here with me,” Marge counters. “So… how does that work?”

“I’m… with John?”

He hears her take a deep breath, can picture her nodding and putting her head in her hand. “The gymnast. Seriously Gale, you went out with the gymnast?”

“You told me to be social,” he points out.

“That’s not what- okay, you know what. Fine. That’s fine. Good job. Gold star.”

He tilts his head back with a fond smile. “Marge, I’m a big boy. I can go out if I wanna go out.”

“I know-” she pauses. “You’re not sober, are you?”

This almost makes Gale laugh. Almost. Marge knows him too well, can parse out nearly everything he’s thinking and feeling from his voice alone. “Mmm, almost. Mostly. I’m not drunk if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I know you’re not drunk, you idiot. You don’t get drunk.” This is true. 

“I’m fine, Marge. I’m good, actually. John’s… I don’t know. I’m having fun. He’s… well, he’s amazing.” He looks at Bucky again, and this time his eyes are locked right onto Gale. He looks pleased, as if no one has ever said that about him before, which Gale knows is definitely not true. What he doesn’t know is that Bucky has never particularly cared if people like him or not, never cared what they said about him. Until now.

Marge sighs. “Just be safe, okay? Don’t… don’t do anything stupid. I know you won’t but I have to say it anyway. And don’t have unprotected sex!”

“Marge!”

“And I want to meet him.”

“Goodbye, Marge!”

“Love ya babe.”

Gale hangs up the phone in exasperation, and when he looks up again, Bucky is stifling a laugh. “Girlfriend?” he asks, and he’s only half joking.

Gale shakes his head emphatically. “God, no. I love Marge, but not like that.”

“She’s on the jumping team, right?” Bucky remembers reading about her. Gale, Benny, and Marjorie. The three young hotshots on the U.S. equestrian team, all from the same training facility.

Gale stirs the remains of his drink, listening to the ice cubes clink against the glass. “Yeah. We grew up together, actually.”

“She sounds like a good friend.”

“She is. But I don’t wanna think about her right now.” Then Gale leans over and kisses Bucky again, short and sweet. When he pulls away, Bucky wishes he wouldn’t, even though they’re in the middle of a crowded bar.

He asks Gale if he wants another drink. Gale politely refuses. “I don’t drink much,” he confides. 

Bucky starts to nod; they are Olympic athletes, after all. But then he pauses, squinting at Gale like he’s trying to calculate exactly what those words mean. “You don’t drink much,” he repeats slowly. “But your horse is named after alcohol?”

Gale laughs, and Bucky momentarily wants nothing more than to make that happen again. “She’s named after a plane that my great grandfather flew in World War II,” Gale explains. “Hundred Proof.”

And why does that make all the sense in the world? Everything Gale says makes Bucky fall a little more. “That’s… unexpected. And amazing.”

Gale looks pleased in that way that he only seems to when talking about his horse. “A special name for a special mare.”

And a special guy, Bucky thinks.

Even so, the drinks Gale did have were strong, and he can feel it in his head, in the way the world takes just a fraction of a second too long to catch up when he turns around. He’s on that edge where the alcohol is still making him pleasantly relaxed, but it’s almost to the point of reminding him of things he’d rather forget. Plus, he has to be up early tomorrow, and he’s sure Bucky does, too. Bucky must see something on his face, some sort of discomfort or unease, because he puts a hand on the small of his back, stilling him as he looks him in the eye. “Wanna head back?”

Gale nods. “Yeah, yeah sure.” And then Bucky is grabbing his hand, and Gale’s foggy brain spends too long focusing on how big Bucky’s hand is, how it nearly engulfs his own. He thinks about what hands like that could do and it makes him shiver before he chastises himself for wandering so far.

“You okay?” Bucky is looking back over his shoulder at him, a concerned little smile teasing at the corners of his mouth, and yeah, Gale is okay. This whole day has been wildly outside of his comfort zone, and yet he feels okay. John Egan feels safe, somehow. And Gale wants to wrap himself up in that feeling.

He nods again. “I’m good.”

–

It’s 10pm, and outside, the sun is just setting over Paris. “I can’t get used to that,” Bucky muses. “Sunset is so late here.”

Gale looks at him, and he finds that he can’t look away. “It’s beautiful, though,” he says, and he wonders if Bucky knows he isn’t just talking about the sun.

As darkness falls over them, they half stumble their way back to the Olympic Village. Neither of them are drunk, but they are just this side of tipsy. And they can’t stop talking and laughing as they try to figure out where the heck they are and how to get back to their little apartments. They’re still hanging off of each other, like it never occurred to either of them to let go.

“That one!” Bucky yells, pointing enthusiastically towards a building to their left.

Gale pulls back on his hand though, shaking his head. “No, it’s not the right color.”

Bucky stops and tilts his head, squinting at it even though it’s dark now and there’s no way squinting is gonna help. “You sure?”

“Yeah, our building is white. We need to go closer to the river.”

Gale is right. Their building is right on the Seine, and it is, in fact, white. By the time they find it, it’s nearing 11pm. They stop outside of Bucky’s door, hands locked together as they stare at each other like awkward teenagers after a first date. “I guess this is goodnight, then,” Gale says hesitantly. 

Bucky shrugs, uncertain, but then he shoves out the next few words before he loses his nerve. “You could come in.”

“Aren’t you sharing a room with Curt?”

Bucky smirks, darting his tongue over his lower lip, and the way Gale clocks that movement is very satisfying to him. “Curt’s not gonna be back for a while yet. Trust me.” Bucky has absolutely no idea where the guy went, and he’s not sure he wants to know. All he knows is that Curt told him he’d be out late, so if he wanted to bring his little blonde horseback rider back home with him, that would be alright. Bucky punched him in the arm, and Curt insisted he was just doing his duty as wingman. That and he legitimately wasn’t going to be back until late anyways.

“Alright then,” Gale whispers, and the way his voice goes all deep is enough to make Bucky practically drag him through the door.

Bucky’s room is pretty much the exact same as Gale’s. That is, minimal. Small, with white walls and wood floors, basic furniture including an open wardrobe and some shelves. And, of course, Paris 2024 comforters spread over top of two of those cardboard, anti-sex beds that everyone has heard so much about. For sustainability, the Olympic committee said, as the “intimacy ban” from Tokyo has supposedly been lifted. Right. Bucky, however, knows for a fact that such a ban didn’t really work anyways.

“Cozy,” Gale quips as the door closes behind them.

“They like to make us feel special,” Bucky agrees sarcastically, tugging on Gale’s hand again to pull him closer.

Gale lets himself be pulled forward, so he and Bucky are almost nose to nose. “Wouldn’t want us thinking too highly of ourselves.”

Bucky tilts his head and looks down at Gale. Gale has never in his life felt short or small in any way, but Bucky is a good couple inches taller than him and has quite a bit more bulk. When Bucky wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him even closer, though, Gale thinks he likes it. And Bucky is completely obsessed with the way Gale is blinking up at him, his lips parted, watching Bucky like he’s a puzzle he wants to solve.

“I think pretty highly of you,” Bucky murmurs. Then he kisses Gale again, slow and sensual and nothing like he’s used to. But it feels right somehow.

Gale pulls away and looks down at his feet, putting a hand on each of Bucky’s rock-solid biceps. 

“Is this okay?” Bucky asks him.

Gale looks back up at him and bites his lower lip with a breathy laugh. He can’t believe he’s doing this. Letting himself be propositioned by someone he just met at the Paris Olympics. Benny and Marge will have a field day if they find out. Gale himself can’t quite sort out how he got here. All he knows is he doesn’t care; he wants this. So he nods and says, “definitely.”

Then he pushes Bucky back against the wall and… wow. Bucky isn’t used to that. It’s usually the other way around for him. He finds himself gasping as Gale’s surprisingly strong hands grip his shoulders, as soft lips find his own. He can feel the cold wall through the back of his shirt, but he focuses on the warmth radiating from Gale’s body pressed against his and lets his hands settle on Gale’s slim waist as he relaxes into the kiss.

Gale pulls away and Bucky tries to follow, but he opens his eyes to see Gale looking at him, pupils blown wide. “You know,” Gale says. “Part of the reason I flirted with that bartender was to see if you’d care.”

So he admits it. He was flirting. “I cared,” Bucky tells him.

“I know.”

Bucky nuzzles Gale’s neck, nipping at the fragile skin, and he relishes the way it makes Gale’s breath catch. “Is that okay? That I cared?”

Gale tilts his head ever so slightly, giving Bucky better access, and Bucky thinks he has his answer. But he wants to hear it. “I liked it,” Gale confesses. “And I liked the way you touched my hair, too.”

Bucky pulls back so he can look Gale in the eye again, and he reaches a tentative hand up toward the side of Gale’s face, where a wayward strand of blonde hair has fallen down over his forehead, right above his eye. With gentle fingertips, Bucky brushes the strand back, just like he did in the bar, and it makes Gale’s cheeks flush as he averts his eyes, looking down at Bucky’s other hand firmly holding his waist.

“Like that?” Bucky asks. Then his fingers trace a line to the back of Gale’s head, where he twines them in soft hair and grips it experimentally, urging Gale to lift his head again. He presses their lips together and bites gently at Gale’s lower lip, swallows the gasp that follows. “Or like that?” He whispers against the corner of Gale’s mouth.

“Tout ça,” Gale says quietly. All of it.

Bucky puts both hands on Gale’s waist again and spins him around, so they’ve swapped places. Gale now pressed between Bucky’s body and the wall, Bucky kissing him with more passion than Gale’s ever been kissed with before. 

“Do that again,” Bucky growls as he tugs at the hem of Gale’s shirt with insistent hands. 

Gale lets him pull it up, over his head. “Oh? Ça te plaît?” The shirt drops to the floor at their feet and immediately Bucky’s hands are back on him, running up and down his sides, exploring his chest and abdomen and the small of his back with a desperate curiosity. 

“À votre tour. Allez,” Gale grunts, tugging at Bucky’s shirt. “Only fair.”

Bucky obliges and pulls away just briefly to pull his shirt off, letting it join Gale’s on the wood floor below. He sighs deeply when Gale’s hands touch his bare skin, gliding gently over his broad shoulders, his biceps, his back. “I want to look at you,” Bucky whispers.

He takes a step back, his fingertips tracing down over Gale’s arm as he pulls away until only their fingers are brushing, keeping them linked together. He inhales deeply as he takes in the sight of the man he’s so readily invited into his world. This perfect, perfect person. Piercing blue eyes analyzing him, messy blonde hair just begging to be pulled, rock solid abs and strong shoulders tapering into a narrow waist, where Bucky’s hands have decided they belong.

“My god, Gale, you’re…” He doesn’t have the words.

“Parfait,” Gale breathes, eyes roaming up and down Bucky’s body. Strong and imposing, nothing but well-trained muscle, equally messy dark curls that Gale wants to feel between his fingers, the broadest shoulders he’s ever seen up close. Everything about Bucky’s body screams power, and yet everything about how he looks at Gale, how he touches him, is affectionate.

Gale rushes forward, letting his fingers grip Bucky’s soft hair as he kisses him, hard. Their hands can’t get enough of each other, touching everywhere they can find. Bucky stops him, though, when Gale pushes him towards the bed.

“No,” he pants. “It won’t hold our weight. Trust me.”

Gale quirks an eyebrow at him, amused. “Make a habit of bringing athletes into your room?”

“Just once,” Bucky admits, leaning in again to suck at Gale’s collarbone. “I was young and stupid,” he mutters.

“And now?” Gale asks, his hand on the back of Bucky’s head, urging him to keep doing that.

Bucky laughs against his skin. “Might still be stupid, but the decision to bring you here sure wasn’t.” Spending time with Gale today was quite possibly the least stupid thing he’d ever done. “Hold on,” he murmurs. He’s tired of this standing against walls business.

He slips out of Gale’s hold and grabs the thin comforter off his bed, laying it out on the hard floor. Then he takes both of Gale’s hands in his and guides him down, until they’re both on the floor with the comforter underneath them. Bucky’s back is pressed against the cardboard base of the bed, Gale effectively in his lap, straddling him.

Gale presses forward and nips at Bucky’s ear, at his neck, at his jaw. Bucky’s head is spinning from the feeling of Gale’s bare skin under his hands and against his chest. Gale has an absolute fascination with Bucky’s shoulders, unable to keep himself from running his hands over them again and again, his fingernails scraping gently across them and making Bucky shiver. They’re grinding against each other now, and they both feel dizzy from the pleasure.

Bucky starts working at Gale’s belt, trying to get it off, but that’s when Gale pulls away. Bucky worries he pushed too much, but Gale has that soft half-smile on his face. “Hey now,” he says gruffly. “Buy a guy dinner first, why don’t you?”

And seriously, the way Gale’s eyes are twinkling at him like that and the way his soft hair is already a mess just from Bucky running his hands through it over and over, the way this man makes Bucky’s heart beat too fast, too fast, too fast the entire time they’re together… He can’t stand it and he never wants it to end.

So he pulls his hands away from the belt, puts one back on Gale’s hip and the other on his cheek and says, “Tomorrow. I’ll take you for dinner tomorrow.”

Gale nods, pleased, and kisses him again, rough and beautiful and better than anything Bucky has ever experienced before. And he knows that he’s already falling for Gale Cleven. Has been since the plane.

It’s going to be one hell of an Olympics.

[b-r-i-n-g-x]

how did you and shay come up with shadow vision?

Thats a funny story actually

It all started with me sleeping and dreaming hdhdhddh

So around like after few days of puzzlevision movie, i think we theorized something in the server so we talked about mr. Puzzle a lot. Then i got very sleepy so i decided to take a nap.

My dream was about talking with the server when suddenly creepy things on my laptop happened where puzzles appeared and turned out this was a way of advertising the new pv by hacking everyone computers and do this silly puzzle is back thing. The next thing i know the new episode started which had smg4 and smg3, but not really them. They looked the same but had extra features and a slight deformed look like many many sharp teeth, pointy ears, gremlinish look. And their personalities were also changed they were acting much gremlinishly and three actually was very open about having crush for Four and Four was more a meanie tsundere type.

Then i woke up, told the server which made them think about it and made me kinda actually draw these doppleganger 4 and 3 from my dream. The sketch of sv4 design is the closest to what i had in my dream, while sv3 was more planned out and changed from what i had in dream. At first i didn't really think too much of this au, bc i thought its silly and probably I'd go with the "they're evil goop" trope, but then Shay really loved the idea and wanted to help me make this au alive. So all together gather up in a groupchat, shay wrote down their note, it their idea to make them tv guardians and they planned out how they were created. I helped out how i imagine their personality, of course shay finalized it and made them even better, I helped with their design, decided on giving them a different colour schemes, I thought itd be great idea to tease and follow of the adventure of shadow vision if we'd make a separate tumblr blog for it.

And basically thats how this whole au borned.

Story wise and character wise it all thanks to @shygirl4991 while i mostly came up with the design, run the blog with shay, make art and random events and help coming up with scenarios and ideas to make this au great.

I remember the hours i spent just to make this silly intro of the cast reveal. I wanted to use the puzzlevision song but in a different tunes, shay witnessed as i spent the whole night, figuring out where are the notes of the song are by my own without any piano music sheets help, purely relying on my hearing.

Just to make a few seconds long video about the cast dhdhdhd

And I never made music before, i think it is kinda hearable how off beat the whole thing is dhdhhd

So both me and shay are very passionate about this au and wanna work on it hard, we love our fake gays. We love doing the askbox as well, giving you guys some crumbs while waiting the next chapter.

And i do hope you all enjoy it all!

I am sorry for my ramblings fhdhhd

[spinningbagel]

TL!Au is such an interesting AU to me. While timeloops in themselves are not the most interesting troupe, I love thinkig about how it'd affect Sheriff mentally to experience the loop, how his mental health would slowly decline with every death. I don't even think he'd notice his own mental decline, too stressed and focused on getting out of this godforsaken loop to notice the way he's slowly loosing himself to his own head until has like... a manic episode (This'd likely be the uh,,, murderous rampage loop because he's had this realisation that nothing he does matter in the end, as long as he dies the loops will continue. To him, in his mind, he's practically a god who can get away with anything thanks to the loops.) 

Also I think the fact that he can't tell anyone about the loops plays into his mental unstability, like, he can try telling them about the loops but when he inevitably dies, they'll forget again. It'd drive him up the wall to know he's the only one who can remember the repeating day. Sure that changes later down the track (for better and for worse) but at the time, it would be incredibly frustrating to not have a way for them to remember the days repeating and draining to have to be the only one to have to live with this burden. 

I also like to think about how he'd feel about the scars, and his appearence in general I personally think he'd hate seeing himself in a mirror, every scar on his body a constant reminder of every single failed loop. Like, his eye, he got that torn out and couldn't see out that eye every loop after that. There's also the rope burn mark around his neck. I think you can figure out how that loop went. Like, he would hate his body and mirrors in general. Doesn't want to be reminded of his failures.

And by the time he finally manages to get someone to remember the loops, he's so far gone that he can't fully remember how he used to be, his perception of himself is so scuffed that he can't remember how he looked prior to the loops. And it's not like he can rely on any photos. Like him, they change with every loop, updating to reflect how he looks by the next loop. His only refrence at this point is an old, old photo of Ryan and him. 

And mentally, he's not stable anymore, hasn't been for at least a few hundred loops. He's self destructive, looking for ways to end the loops early when the weight of everything gets to him.  He's not sane anymore like, genuinely he's not sane anymore, he's manic and psychotic, more often times than not he's not there mentally. 

Anyways,,, I treat my favourites so well (lie) 

[quietwingsinthesky]

of ten’s companions, if the doctor couldn’t handle losing them and crossed his own timeline to trick them into traveling with future!him instead of past!him so that he’d have a little more time with them:

rose would do it. first because bless her but she has the situational awareness of a rock, and legitimately would not realize this isn’t her doctor until his facade starts to break down and he starts bleeding grief-laced love for her at every turn. but once she does realize it, she’s both deeply sympathetic and a little scared that she could make him into this. it’s a lot to be confronted with having that much power over someone, to break them so thoroughly. rose would try to get back to her doctor, but while she’s with the future version, she tries to do what she can to ease his pain. (she also tries to figure out a way to subvert her fate. she fails.)

i think martha would be harder to trick. she can smell desperation on the doctor like a bloodhound. she is so tapped into the fact that this man wants to off himself so bad and that she’s 90% of his self-restraint, so present her with a doctor who is lacking that and she’s onto him immediately. however, assuming he gets her to come with him, explains why he’s doing this, there’s like. a minute where she’s kind of. not flattered exactly, but surprised, giddy with the realization that he’d come back for a little more time with her, especially if this is early season 3 martha. which would all come crashing down around the time that he reveals that he wasn’t pushed to this by losing her to some tragedy or her death or anything- but that she chose to leave. that is the point at which martha goes ‘oh i need to get the fuck off of this tardis right now’ and ghosts the past!doctor that she was also traveling with because holy shit, man.

donna, like rose, is easily bamboozled into following the wrong doctor home, provided that he shuffles her along into his tardis too fast for her to argue. but she catches on far quicker than rose does. like, three minutes tops of watching the doctor move through the tardis in a way that’s definitely not enthusiastic piloting and looks more like guilty panic. and then she yells at him for lying to her. and she yells at him for kidnapping her. and then she stops yelling because he’s gone sort of still and quiet and his eyes are just broken. and he doesn’t explain himself, he confesses. donna is going to try to stay with him after this btw. because how do you go back to looking your best friend in the eyes when you know he’d take everything you’ve become away from you, even to save your life? and this is still the doctor, he still did that to her, but he regrets it. regrets it so much that he can’t live with it, he’s breaking time and space just to hear her say his name again. and donna doesn’t want to lose him anymore than he wanted to lose her.

[dykevanny]

had a really funny idea for an ask blog ft. Vanny and another plex employee oc,,

[weareuniqueandimportant]

EH... THAT WAS A PRETTY WORTHLESS 5 HOURS... THE COMMENTS ARE ALL VIRGINS... SOMEONE NUTTED OR SOMETHING THINKING THAT WILL ASSERT SUPERIORITY ON HER OR SOMETHING LOL... ABUSER BIGOT LOSER CRYING STOP TAKING THE THING THEY TAKE SERIOUSLY SERIOUSLY WHILE TAKING THIS VIDEO SERIOUSLY... SHE'S WORTHLESS HERSELF... ONLY OUR FEELINGS MATTER NOTHING ELSE IS RELEVANT... THIS IS SO BORING AND BIGOTED... SHE'S SUPER LAME... HARUMI IS THE VICTIM TBH... THE MAIN CHARACTERS ARE ALL EVIL ALL THE BIGOTED THINGS ABUSER BIGOT LIKE THE SERIES... THEM OR OVERLORD THAT DOESN'T MATTER WHO'S THE ONE MANIPULATING HER... WHICH BTW IS WHAT THE MAIN CHARACTERS ARE DOING... AS IS EVERY SINGLE ABUSER FAN OF THIS EVIL CARTOON... WE WILL WATCH ANOTHER EPISODE ONLY ONCE THEY PUSH THESE LOSERS TO THE SIDE AND SAY THIS STORY ISN'T ABOUT THEM ANYMORE WHILE INTRODUCING SOME LOVELY BRAND NEW MARY SUES THAT REPRESENT EVERYTHING IN A WOMAN SHE CLEARLY DESPISES... SHE'S A MISOGYNIST HERSELF... INFACT A SEXIST BIGOT QUEERPHOBIC BIGOT ABLEIST SANIST PARAPHOBIC RACIST ALL THE BIGOTED THINGS ABUSER BIGOT... I CAN'T BELIEVE THERE'S ITEMPHOBIA TBH... AND THIS ENTIRE MESS WAS ALWAYS DESTINED TO BECOME ONE... THAT'S WHERE EVERYTHING BEGINS... CAPITALISM... THE COMPANY... THE WRITERS... THE PEOPLE THAT APPROVED THEM... WHATEVER THEY BASED THIS ON... THEY NEVER CONSIDERED ANY GROUP... THEY NEVER CARED ABOUT ANYONE... THEY DIDN'T PLAN ANYTHING FOR THESE LACKING CHARACTERS AND ONCE THEY ADD THINGS TO THEM THEY JUST KEEP GETTING MORE AND MORE SEXIST... HER FAVORITE SEASON IS ASS HER FAVORITE CHARACTER MOMENTS ARE ASS... TORWARDS THE END OUR EMOTIONS WATCHING WERE MURDERED THEY DIED THEY WERE NO LONGER THERE... WHAT HAPPENED WITH OTHER CAPITALIST CASHGRABS LIKE THOSE MARVEL MOVIES... THAT HAVE NOTHING WOKE ABOUT THEM TBH BESIDES THE BANGER THE MARVELS... A NARRATIVE ABOUT HOW YOU SHOULDN'T CHANGE ANYTHING BECAUSE ABUSER BIGOT DON'T WANT YOU TO...