#Later you can get a shitpost Heart once i go to sleep

[itsrainingalmonds]

Have my shitposts of Mind and Soul :]

Og images!!

[dreamcatcherrs]

mcyts reaction to you flinching during an argument

TW; slight mention of abuse, angst

+ sad boi hours; open

++ for all of you angst lovers<3

song recommendation: start//end - EDEN

dream:

when he yelled something at you, wanting some sort of response from you and you didn’t give it to him, he grabbed you by your arm angrily and pulled you close to him.

you flinched away from him, turning your head away in reflex to what his next move might be.

he would immediately let go of you, taking a step back. he would just look at you, heart dropping at the fact that you thought he’d ever do something to hurt you in any way.

would feel disappointed with himself even days after the incident, and would even doubt if him being with you was a good thing at all, where you’d have to reassure him for him to eventually forget about it.

georgenotfound:

you and george were having a disagreement about something, keeping a close proximity to each other throughout the argument.

after having raised his voice, he would be lifting his hand to move hair out of his face. and that’s when you flinched, closing your eyes thightly.

george honestly wouldn’t know what to do. he’d just be standing there, stuck in place out of shock. eventually, he’d gently grab your hand, scared to touch your face in case you’d flinch again.

he’d talk to you about how he’d never hurt you, and asked if there was some deeper reason as to why you’d flinched so easily.

sapnap:

he would be so angry at himself, and would probably, before you could even stop him, storm out of the house to clear his mind and think about what he’d just done.

when he came back, he would hug you so hard, tears streaming down his face and repeating phrases like “I’m so sorry” and “I’d never hurt you”.

he’d make sure you knew just how much he loved you, and that you had no reason to ever flinch away from him again. cuddle sessions are a definite yes after an incident like this.

badboyhalo:

oh my god, when I tell you this mans’ heart would break into a million pieces-

he’d crush your body in his arms, coddling you so tightly to him whilst whispering sweet words into your ear. he would feel so crushed.

the poor guy would be crying😖

after that, he would try his best to avoid getting into arguments, or at least avoid ever raising his voice at you again.

technoblade:

would feel really hurt that you thought he’d hit you. lowkey a little disappointed about how you flinched so easily just by him raising his hand slightly, but would push the selfish thought aside and talk to you about it calmly, even though the action had really hurt him.

he wasn't a violent person, and he thought you knew that.

he doesn't want to send you down a guilt trip or anything, but he just feels so… lost? makes him doubt wether you trust him and he could think about it for literal weeks, because he’d have a hard time talking about it.

wilbur soot:

runs a hand over his face, wide eyes staring back at you in shock. it takes him a moment to realise that you had just flinched because of him. that you'd acted out in a way people who are scared do. he doesn't really know what to do at first - he doesn't want to cause more damage.

“y/n…” he trails off, lifting a hand slowly towards you, afraid that he’ll scare you away. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to be scared of him.

he cant just stand there, and he can tell that all you really need right now is some comfort, so he’ll just grab you and pull you right into his arms, apologising over and over again and assuring you that he'd never make you flinch again.

skeppy:

he would be really confused.

like, he would just be standing there with a confused expression on his face until you looked up at him again. 

“did you think I was going to hit you?”

his bottom lip would tremble, and his heart would just be pounding out of his chest.

he’d feel better once you comforted him and told him that you just flinch easily, but he would still think about it sometimes when he looked at you.

karl jacobs:

his eyes would widen, quickly trying to reach out and touch you, only realising that the reason you flinched was because you didn’t want him to touch you. because you’d felt a reason to lift your hands in front of you in defence.

instead he would clasp his hand over his mouth, feeling tears well up in his eyes. and just let out a sob.

and that’s when you quickly ran to comfort him, going down with him when he fell onto his knees.

would profusely be mumbling sorries between sobs. that moment would scar him for a long time ;-;

fundy:

would immediately take you into his arms. he pushed aside how much it hurt to know that you could ever be scared of him, because you came first.

lots of back rubbing and cheek kisses - he would be very worried that you flinched because someone had actually hit you before you eve met him or something along those lines.

would apologise for scaring you and wipe tears away from your cheeks if you were crying.

would have a long conversation with you about it afterwards.

quackity:

would back away from you.

he didn’t know what the fuck to do. if he should comfort you or back the hell away. so he chose the safest option, seeing as you had clearly shown a sign of defence.

you would kinda just look at each other for a while.

“I- did you just-” he would cut himself off trying to form the right sentence.

“baby, I wouldn't hit you. you know I wouldn't… right?”

punz:

like sapnap, he would take off, leaving you in confusion and hurt about how you had so easily reacted like that.

he wanted to be there for you, but he knew that he needed to clear his mind and think about what had just happened before he could do that. once he was outside, he would yell at the top of his lungs, letting out his pain through doing so.

when he entered again, he would start talking about how he was such a dick and should be more careful with the way he moves and that he wouldn't ever hurt you or anything like that.

would ramble on until you shut him up, assuring him that there was no reason to be angry or upset. it would definitely calm him down, but he wouldn't be able to sleep very well that night knowing that he had made you flinch so badly.

awesamdude:

sam is just very shocked. and confused… and generally feels a lot of emotions washing over him all at once. the anger was still there, but he could hold it back for a while if it meant being able to wipe that expression off your face.

with furrowed brows he gently cups your cheeks, relieved when you didn't try to pull away or anything like that. he wouldn't really talk directly about it right then, but rather comforts you. you are his number one priority right now.

“hey, hey, hey. it’s okay, I’m here.” and then just hugs you and lets you cry it out on his shoulder. will talk to you about it later and eventually resolve your previous argument. makes sure you never flinch at him again.

corpse husband:

corpse knows he can get pretty heated in arguments, but to make you flinch… he’d never seen that one coming, and honestly, it would hit him like a truck. he would stumble over is own words, hands clamming to you protectively, only to move away again as he realised the one who he had to protect you from was himself. 

would beat himself up about it a lot afterwards. like, he’d think about that look on your face and just space out, which you would notice of course cause his brows would knit together and he’d look so fucking sad. he’d just be scared to do it again.

eret:

it was the worst thing he'd ever witnessed. you can almost hear his heart crack right into two pieces. he’d just look at you with sad, bulging puppy eyes until you moved to look at him again with guilt dancing in your eyes once seeing his.

“y/n, I… I would never hit you.”

I feel like he could cry depending on how bad the argument had been, but overall he is just very very sad. wouldn't be able to hold back even if he was scared of making you flinch again, and would just hold you. until you were ready to talk about it, he’d be right there with his hands clinging onto you for dear life.

______________________________________

tag list✰

@zayenz @terribletoothbat @0t0n1n @0125cm @yukiuheh @shinee-is-5-forever @regularnoceur @b01nk-b0w@christhebish@nutritious-emo-crackkk@bookishreid@giavanna-707 @reddiesmcdonalds@cosmins@vixxzial@autumnpleaves@paradigmax@meaganjm@shiningsunrises@moralofwalls@username1212131@gxldentaestuff@innitdream @televisionpresent38 @bubblyanis@zurami @highoffhockey @popinjaytaylor@196os@livsbaby@doubts-of-gold@bunlina@retrav @mcyt-is-my-life@aleaisntcreative @my-shitpost-of-writing @my-shitpost-of-writing @clownsdrowning @pissbabywastaken@shiningsunrises @tie-dyed-dumbass @death-by-rats@simpfordraco @bippity-boppity-boopa@neongreendaydreams  @vibin-by-myself@littlepotatos0w0@christhebish @pipp-poppz@btsiguess-kpop@prettysmallfries@hiyoko-kos@kenmxskitten@fudrudy@weepingartanimespy@rhino-zucchini@goldenstarofthunderclan@melonmarz@ubeicecreamisthebest@polaroidinurroom @ady-yoo@isimpforeveryone@edenhollandd@ineedtogetoutofhere@glitter-night @hamilsandersfam@mothheart-witch @wrong-exit@trashcanfullofdork  @hellfirepheonixx @marshmallow-babe@isimpforeveryone @ky50621 @randomcloud@wormie4k@dinonuggies50  @p4rty-t4ttoos@aspenthegremlin@book-of-anarchy @jeyacore @thetattooink@gogywasfound@millavalntyne@junob1ade @ubeicecreamisthebest@karida @i-have-paws-love@drvgonraja@eatasslikegrass@creamofweep@venusomega@lunarfedora@rowe-n @wreny24 @vincent-stargogh @floatingplanets​ @vernon-dursley​ @childhoodgrunge​ @fivxss @hexagonclash​ @crazyjuls12​ @littlebabysandboxburritos @shifted-dreams@lenamarie666 @reinyrei @sozvuchiy @weaslvy-mxlfoy​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @honeyglaazed @carisle-mikealson​ @ineedtogetoutofhere​

[moemoemammon]

Requests status: OPEN (and active daily)

This blog contains 16+ content. There's no n/s/f/w here, but tbh is obey me even a game for minors 🤔 (the answer is no)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

[I can tell when you haven't read the rules so you'd better take a peek]

➸This blog is dedicated to delivering spicy Obey Me content right to your door! Hungry for shitposts, headcanons, and the occasional short fic featuring a Gender Neutral MC? Then you've come to right blog babyyy 😎

➸Send in your weirdest headcanons, the off-the-wall stuff you're dying to see the boys react to, whatever's on your mind! Want me to write Belphie getting stuck in a sleeping bag? Lucifer being gently floated down a river on an air mattress? Beel eating bars of soap because they're shaped like cakes?? I'll write it all!

➸I'm down for angst, fluff, shitposts, and everything in between! Flood my ask box, why dontcha? Just be sure to specify who you want me to write for! And if you want the dateables, request them in a separate post! Please don't ask for all the boys at once-

➸ (I draw too so uhhhh wink wink send requests sometimes)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Explicit NSF/W. Like, stuff that's a lil suggestive is fine, but don't go full horni on me. I don't want underage people gettin exposed to stuff. Also don't send me anything weird.

Anything romantically involving Luke. He may be old in canon but he's 12 in my heart and therefore only platonic stuff will be permitted in this house

Covid and/or other illness related content. Hits close to home for me, so I don't wanna

Controversial/Taboo subject matters. Stuff involving racism, politics, extreme and excessive gore, drug usage, or anything that'll get you in jail is a no go. (bastards dni)

Anything else I decide I don't wanna write lmao. If the subject matter makes me uncomfortable or I don't think I'll do the topic any justice, I might not write it

➸Wanna block out potential spam, or non obey me content? Blacklist #daikon spam, #delete later, and #obey me shitpost spam! Check the tag list below for additional tags to keep an eye on!

Also, keep a look out for ✨secret links✨ hidden all over my blog ❤️

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

➸Old Masterlist

➸New Masterlist

➸Choose your own Adventure!

➸Devildom Cookbook

➸Art Station

➸The Jar™️

➸DISCORD BABYY (16+)

[softkuna]

playlist

›  𝚋𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘

› 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.

›  𝟸𝟷𝟿𝟻𝚔

You had a shit day. You got pegged in the face with a volleyball so hard, you could practically taste the concussion as you sprawled backwards. Luckily, the medic ok’d you to keep playing. Unluckily, the whole ordeal happened right in front of a pro team’s scouting manager. The embarrassment alone made you want to hide under a rock until next season. To make it all sting just a little bit more, Bokuto and Kuroo had their own games to attend, so it wasn’t like you could curl up in Kuroo’s dorm like you might’ve before. Bokuto was only in town for a few days, too, and you were certain he’d be practicing or playing the whole weekend. So instead, you sigh as you walk onto the train by campus, shooting a text to the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.

🗨️We lost :( I think I broke my nose. And my careeeeeeer

  Bokuto’s fingers rapid-fire replied, followed my Kuroo’s more casual pace.

  🗯️BROKEN NOSE?!! ARE YOU OK???

🗯️Wait how did u lose? Aren’t they good luck????

💬That’s a broken leg, bruh.

💬Sorry babe. You’re not concussed, though, right?

🗨️I’m fine ^^” just pulled a hina

🗯️Hows a broken leg good luck? U cant play on that THAT SHIT HURTS 😱 😱

🗨️👀 👀 👀

🗨️Bo pls

  As you sat on the train, you quietly snorted to yourself. Bokuto was an amazing player and an even better boyfriend, but sometimes you thought his muscles squeezed out a braincell or two.

💬Saw the clip on twitter. hows your face? I’m sure its still hot

  You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Kuroo, flirtatious as always, but your reflexive smile matched the tone of your text.

🗨️If hot = busted, then sure 🙄

🗯️HEY UR HOT 😘 😘 SHUDDUP

  By the way their texts disjointedly pieced together before coming to a halt, you knew their matches started. You locked your screen with a sigh. Whether it was the ace’s ADHD-induced impulse thoughts or the blocker’s humorously blunt honesty, the two had always managed to spike your spirits high and block the anxieties that crept over the net. Without their distractions, the day replayed in 4K across the theater of your mind. Back slumped against the seat, you could feel the heaviness of it drag you down to the ocean floor.

  But now here you were, walking to your apartment with no reprieve from the disappointment. Rather than doing your adult responsibilities like clean, cook, or generally care past a shower, you slept. It was a deep, blank sleep. The type where you know you’d wake up feeling that eerie calm in the dead of night.

    Brightness blared next to your pillow – invading your vision as it violently vibrated against your hand. A loud ring attacked your half-concious hearing, jolting your heart like a jumpstarted engine. Quick reflexes enacted before you could stop the near Olympic vault of your phone into the wall across the bed.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me… who the hell….” You tear the blankets off, shivering at the cold as you pick the device back up. Thank your lord and savior, Asahi, for gifting you an Otter Box for Christmas.

  A gentle gasp left your lips as you saw a slew of missed texts from the dynamic duo. Oh no. Oh no. You felt horrendous. Your phone lit up as a photo of Kuroo with a French fry up his nose vibrated to life.

  As fast as your fingers could, you slid to answer, “He-“

  “-LLO WE ARE OUTSIDE ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!” Bokuto hollered into the mic, practically blowing out the speaker with sheer vocal force.

  “Holy shit, Bo! What? What do you mean?” Cautiously, the screen was brought closer to your cheek again, ghosting about a centimeter for your hearing’s safety.

  “Don’t you check your phone, hot-stuff? We’re going for a drive,” Kuroo honked the horn, echoing through the window and phone.

  Sure enough, the string of texts was about a drive and a half-planned plan of action. Thrilled enthusiasm rippled through you. You didn’t even think you’d get to see Bokuto this visit let alone with Kuroo! Praise the scheduling gods!

  The phone squished between your shoulder and ear as hands searched for an outfit that wasn’t your hoe shorts and sports bra. You threw on Bokuto’s old Ace’s Way shirt, and on top a near ancient Nekoma varsity jacket. Both items of which were left in your apartment from a get together nearly a year ago, “I’ll be out in a sec!”

  College was difficult. Especially when each of you had gone in somewhat different directions after high school. Kuroo, like yourself, played volleyball in university. And like yourself, nearly ripped his hair out when experiencing the hell that was Macroeconomics with Professor Mori. Bokuto was scouted play volleyball professionally, popping in and out of Tokyo to visit you two. At some point along the way and a slew of confusing budding emotions later, the three of you dove head first into a lovingly symbiotic relationship. It was hard when each of your schedules were chaotic, but worked out for the best as you all strove for your own goals while cheering each other on.

  You grabbed your bag of random things including underwear, extra clothes, and some money.  You never knew with the two of them what may happen and you learned from one wild trip to Osaka that Bokuto’s sense of direction was about as bad as you’d think it’d be.

  Half jogging, you rolled your eyes to the red corvette. Kuroo loved that thing way too much. Through the window, you could see Bokuto lean across the console to open the back driver-side door for you. The grin he wore could’ve fueled the sun itself, “BABE! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! EDGE-LINE STRAIGHT SHOT! WER’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE,” His muscular arm stretched to you, calloused hands reaching for you to grab.

  He pulled you you between the seats for a  bear hug, wide chest nearly eating you whole. He was as toasty as always. Or maybe it was just your cheeks. Either way, you were happy to see him, “Missed you, Bo! Sorry for missing the texts.”

  “You were asleep weren’t ya?” Kuroo turned in the driver side, a hand finding its place at the crown of your hair. The lazy pique of his own lop-sided smile greeted your playful glare, which melted into a nod and a sigh. The look he gave softened at the navy-coated aura rolling off you in waves. He stroked your hair once, poking your cheek as his hand passed it, “You’re here. ‘s all that matters. Now, Hoots over here can shut up about your nose, which is… a little fucked up, wow.”

  “You don’t say?” Your expression dead-panned as Bokuto pulled back from you to examine the swollen cartilage. While you wanted them to see the game, you were absolutely glad that they didn’t. Bokuto would have barreled down the bleachers had he seen your wipe out in person. Actually, you recalled a snap from Atsumu; the camera pointed to the tile of a locker room, Bokuto’s howling in the background with a simple caption of ‘You good?’  

  Pulling away from the ace, you sat back into the middle seat, arms resting on the leather between the passenger and driver sides. Kuroo drove with his hands low on the wheel, long digits thwacking the steering wheel to a silent beat. You glanced between the two, suspicious of their matching expressions. You dared ask, “Why’s it so quiet?”

  “Are you saying-“ Kuroo began.

  “-you want some tuunesss?” Bokuto ended giddily.

  He readily tapped a button on his phone, shielding the screen from you protectively. Kuroo’s gaze darted between the dash screen and the road, waiting for whatever shitpost song Bokuto most definitely was about to put on.

  “Guys… what are you-“

  A record scratch.

  I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me.

  “You’re fucking kidding me! Turn it up, turn it up!” Your hand bulleted to the volume, body squeezing past the two to crank up Cascada’s Everytime We Touch until the windows rattled. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a knowing, toothy smirk. Bingo.

  “Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you, it's hard to survive!”

  Duetting with the utmost of dramatics, you and Bokuto reached for some imaginary lover escaping in the distance, opposite hand grasping near your hearts. Kuroo snickered, forever and always amused at how weirdly in-sync the two of you could be. Watching both of you thrash wildly together was probably the most endearing thing he’s seen all day.

  The silveret pumped his fists as you both scream-sang the modern masterpiece. His large hands enveloped yours with enough theatrics to shake the emotion into the chorus:  

  “'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so? I can't let you go

Want you in my life!”

  The palm of your hands smacked into their biceps at the last lines, letting the 2000’s synth twinkle into your veins. The vibes in this vehicle were immaculate. Waves that crashed over you, drowning you earlier in the day, receded, leaving sun-warmed sands to dance across. The ones who paved the way were a sarcastic cat and overzealous owl.

  The song was coming to an end and you excitedly whipped between the two, “What’s next?! What’s the playlist?! Link it to me? Please?” You bat your eyelashes at them, Kuroo nudging his chin to the other. The ace hurriedly clicked a few buttons and opened a few apps, radiating delight itself, “Done!” Your phone buzzed with Bokuto’s link. The title of the playlist popped up, overpouring unadulterated admiration into your heart until it warmed up to your cheeks.

  Tunes To Cheer Our Best Babe Up To.

 It was silly, but on brand for the two. All of the songs were added within the last three hours by both boys. Each one of them an absolute banger.

  It was Kuroo’s idea in the beginning. He remembered all the times in high school you’d cry after an exam, near inconsolable until he’d loan you his headphones. Just a few months ago, he caught you throwing it back to the beat of some pop classic after you failed your first semester’s final exams. There’s a video of it somewhere, but he won’t admit to the sin. You know it because you can hear him hyena-laugh in the hallway every so often as Bad Boy riots in the background.

  Bokuto, with all the brilliantly rambunctious enthusiasm the world could give a single human being, added in every song he already had in his likes. All of which he sung with you on every trip until your voices hurt. He even added Mr. Brightside, reminding you of the time he screamed so loud during the chorus that he sounded like a donkey the rest of the day and into his next match. To this very day, the infamous ‘O ᴼO ᵒn ᵉ  TᵒOᵘCʰ’ could be heard in the locker rooms by each teammate in unison.

  You paused as the next song hit, mouth abruptly shutting as the two in the front recited, word-for-word,

  “Man, fuck.”

“What's wrong Bo?”

“Man, these kids, man, talkin' shit, makin' me feel bad.”

“Man, fuck them kids, bro! Look around, hoots, look at life!”

“Man, you're right”

“Mmm, you see? You see this fine bitch right over here?” Kuroo’s long fingers pinched your cheek at the red light, laughing as you jokingly smacked it away.

“Yeah, woah...” Bokuto beamed at you.

“You see these trees man? You see this water?” You snorted as Kuroo’s hand waved to four-way intersection.

“I guess it is okay.”

“Come on, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man.”

“Man you know what, y-you're right...” The words, lyrics or otherwise, still brought a childish scrunch to the ace’s handsome face.

“You damn right I'm right,” Kuroo smirked, taking even the smallest bit of delight out of his perfected timing, “I can't remember a time I was god-damn wrong.”

“Man, thanks, Demon Cat.”

“Hey man, that's what I'm here for.”

  Bokuto, half-joke-half-serious punched Kuroo’s bicep, eliciting a feral smirk as they went into the chorus. Bo’s arms crossed as he shook his shoulders to the beat. Kuroo threw down at the next red light, clapping to each beat. Just as the bass shook your heart in its chest, both players head-banged with all their might, car jerking with the force. You feared for the steering wheel and the threat of an airbag going off when both boys slam-drummed the vehicle’s surface. The sight of the two of them going absolutely feral elicited the brightest cackle from your belly.

  They really knew how to turn your shittiest days into your new favorites. And you’d definitely be revisiting this playlist.

[morganas-pendragons]

Epiphany | Commander Cody

another clone fic before i take my leave of tcw writing at least temporarily because my idea bank is dead (update: kidding i have another now, it’s coming this week) / this will probably not be happy because this song is not happy and most of you know better from me of all people lol 

this is actually more hurt/comfort but i hope ya’ll like it! :D 

based off of epiphany from taylor swift’s album folklore 

ft. phantom because i haven’t written enough for her 

@cherieboba​ // @libradusk​ / @obiorbenkenobi​ / @captainrexstan​ / @kamino-mermaid​ / @shitpost-kaley​ / @kryptonian-sith​ / @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ / @lady-tano​ / @colorfulloverbatturkey​ / @djarinsdni​ / @sithmando​ /  @skyguysaga​ / @starflyer-104​ / @painkiller80​ / @ct7567329​ / @spaghetti-666​ / @kaikai1324​ / @cxptain-rex​ / @jellyfishpoptart​ 

*** 

keep your helmet, keep your life son.. just a flesh wound, here’s your rifle 

There’s a certain numbness that comes with being exposed to trauma so many times. Phantom knows in her heart of hearts that this - being on the front lines of a battlefield since the beginning of her padawanship to Obi-Wan Kenobi - was not what The Force meant for her. Jedi were not soldiers. They were peacekeepers. 

And now it seems she is among the best of them. 

Standing on the shorelines of Felucia, the eldest padawan of her class peers upward at the massive Separatist droid foundry they’ve been sent to eliminate. She knows the familiar signatures for the members of Ghost Company who have come to stand at attention around her as they await the General to begin their debriefing. 

Needless to say, the debriefing doesn’t go well. 

  “You want to do what?” Cody is skeptical, to say the least, but her Master seems rather okay with the idea. It’s probably because of how he’s grown used to Anakin’s antics and this is so very something that Anakin would do.

  “I want you to send me into the heart of the base, by myself.” 

  “Absolutely not. Not unless you have vode covering your exit.” 

A side note to consider: Until this point, Phantom had been going by her given name both by the clones and their Jedi. This was the mission that earned her the nickname Phantom. She slipped away unseen, returned unseen.. but it didn’t mean that Cody didn’t worry any less even after she agreed to take a small squad of his best men. 

That is now where he stands - in the eye of a hurricane that is his mind - on the beaches of Felucia that are crawling with clankers and vod. He’s barely able to hear the call of his Jedi through the comms or see the brothers who beg for his aid as he steps over their bodies and continues on in his task. 

Crawling up the beaches now

Sir, I think he’s bleeding out

A bloodied hand print settles against his boot. It’s a deep scarlet that bleeds past the plastoid and into the skin as he recognizes his inability to save yet another brother who died for a war that just didn't end. 

  “I’m sorry.” 

But in spite of his aching heart and the deaths he will have to catalog later, Commander Cody presses on. He has no other choice. He will go back to The Negotiator. He will come back to it with you - because Cody refuses to acknowledge a world where you are not present with him in it - and once Cody is safely ensconced within your embrace, he will weep for those he was unable to save. For those he failed. 

Such is life. 

*** 

With you, I serve

With you I fall down 

You’ve made it this far without being seen by the magna-guards that Dooku strategically placed to protect the droid foundry, or the B1 legion that remains on the first floor to keep the 212th from entering the front door. They are the distraction, and you are the executor. 

The bombs in your satchel tink as they bounce against your side. 

Viper, Killshot, and Abel are all covering your escape. The three clones, two of which were only just recently promoted to ARC Troopers, are three of Cody’s best men and people he would trust with his own life. Now he’s trusted them with yours and you with theirs. 

Your heart crawls into your throat when Abel starts screaming through the comms. He’s been overrun. 

Watch you breathe in 

Watch you breathing out, out 

“You have to keep going, Padawan!” Abel yells, and the ferocity of his voice makes you wince as you stop in the duct you’ve been crawling through for the last mile. You’re almost to the heart of the facility. “For The 212th!” 

For the 212th. 

You make a mental note to add Abel to the mural of fallen that had begun construction in the gardens of the Jedi Temple several months before. You will remember his sacrifice. You will remember him when the war is over, and the clones are freed. 

You and Cody will remember him together when the world won't. 

Something’s you just can’t speak about 

The vent drops down ten feet into a small but open control room. Once you plant the bombs, you have ten minutes to follow the marked path back to the ground floor of the foundry before you’re supposed to meet Obi-Wan and Cody on the beach. 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Your hand slams against your wrist.

Detonation Initiated

TIME: 9:59

  “Killshot! Viper!” You yell, saber ignited as you sprint down the hall and to the adjacent staircase that will lead you to the floor beneath you. The B1 droids on duty yelp at the sudden presence of a Jedi and snap to attention in a futile attempt to stop you with their blasters, but to no avail. “Meet me at the rendezvous!” 

  “Yes Commander!” 

only twenty minutes to sleep, but you dream of some epiphany

You can hear screaming over your comm. Viper and Killshot are ARC Troopers, two of the best in the 212th.. there’s nothing to take them down. That’s what you’d also told yourself in regards to Abel. 

  “Shavit.” 

just one single glimpse of relief to make some sense of what you’ve seen

This floor is alot less crowded then the others. Viper and Killshot are at the point where they agreed to meet you at the debriefing, rifle and blasters out and firing rapidly to eliminate the threat of any droids that dare come near you. 

They had made a promise to their Marshal Commander to get his girl home to him. Cody might not like bearing his heart, but his vode see it every time he looks at you.. and they’re not about to deprive him a bit of happiness when the war has given them so little of it. 

  “Boys, on me!” 

  “Yes Commander!” They shout. 

with you i serve, with you i fall down 

A bolt grazes your shoulder. You yelp at the searing pain across your shoulder blade and whip around to give the hardest Force shove you can muster as you descend to the final floor. 

Your breath catches in your throat. There’s quite a bit of droids left. 

TIME: 5:10

  “There she is!” 

There had been no human guards in this foundry. You’d gotten in, attached the explosives, and had somehow gotten to the main floor without any kind of resistance from those within. Dooku hadn’t even left his best droids here to guard their foundry. 

  “BEHIND YOU!” 

The dread that’s settled in your stomach blossoms when you realize that you are overrun. 

  “PHANTOM!” 

watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out 

Tears burn your eyes as your arms move on their own accord. You are desperately trying to keep your men safe. You are tired and grieving the loss of all the vode who lay outside on that beach, and the natural climate of the planet does nothing when you’re wearing plastoid armor that feels like a second skin. 

with you i serve, with you i fall down 

  “Commander-” Viper starts, and before he can continue, a fatal shot is delivered to his chest that knocks him off his feet. Despite your exhaustion and the fact that your eyes are beginning to blur, you gently place the ARC trooper on the floor outside the door as Killshot continues to take out the activated commando droids. “Phantom-” 

  “You-” You grit your teeth and use The Force to lift him, oblivious to the trickle of blood that trails down your nose and drips into the sand. “Are not dying on me today, soldier! STAY ALIVE!” 

Time: 1:51

  “Look out!” Crys yells. Five or so of the remaining vode snap to attention - including Cody, who has been anxiously following the count down of the timer as he awaits your arrival with his men back on the beach - but he’s now distracted by the body that collapses just in front of the medics. “We need a medic over here! Viper has been hit!” 

The air smells of blood and smoke. 

59.. 58... 

  “Phantom!” That’s Boil - and Cody has no idea where the name came from, but he doesn’t exactly hate it either - yelling into his commlink from beside his Commander as Obi-Wan paces the sand. “The bombs are going to go off in 50 seconds!” 

  “Don’t you think I know that?!” 

  “GET OUT HERE! Kenobi is waiting for you!” 

Mustering all the energy you have left, you raise your hands in the air and throw hundreds of droids backward into the far wall at the other end of the ground floor before you and Killshot are sprinting out into the open and down the sandbar to where Obi-Wan and Cody are waiting for you. 

It hits you square in the face when you see how terrified he looks. You are still too far away for comfort, too close to the blast area, too close to danger... and seeing how many fallen vode are on that beach must make Cody believe he’s about to lose you too. 

Not today. 

  “Are you ready, General?” Cody asks. Obi-Wan nods and braces himself against the sand, digging his toes into his boots as he relaxes his body and concentrates the best that he is able. 

just one single glimpse of relief

to make some sense of what you’ve seen

10..9...8...7....

Cody holds his breath and screws his eyes shut. Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. 

You hold your breath and allow yourself to fall limp in the Force grip that your Master uses to haul you and Viper down the beach. 

  “Cody.” 

Soot covered hands collide with hard white and gold plastoid. You are far enough away from the foundry not to get caught in the blast, and the minute you are safely ensconced in the arms of the Marshal Commander, Obi-Wan slams his hand against his wrist and detonates the bombs. 

The world explodes in a flurry of amber against a sapphire sky. The sun is descending. 

Time to go home. 

*** 

He finds you in the quiet of his quarters. After being released from medical to ensure nothing had happened to you and checking in on Viper, you’d immediately retreated to the sanctity of Cody’s quarters that he very rarely used on The Negotiator. 

The minute the door hisses shut, the weight falls on his shoulders and he shudders. It’s almost as if the world wanted to keep him feeling as light as possible before the weight of reality came back onto his shoulders.

You’d mentioned this before in a novel you’d read. Atlas. 

Yeah. Marshal Commander Cody is Atlas. 

  “Kote,” Your voice echoes through the quarters as you stand in the thresh hold between the kitchen and the bedroom, eyes softening at his state of exhaustion as you beckon him forward. “My love, are you alright?” 

He releases a shuddering breath and falls into the crook of your neck. “No,” Cody rasps, desperation creeping into his voice as he fists the material of your tunic with shaking fingers as he pulls you deeper into the curve of your body. “No. I almost lost you today.” 

Capable fingers swiftly work at removing his armor. Cody doesn’t know it yet, but you have the bath running, and you intend on taking care of him. Someone has to do it. 

Might as well be the person who’s in love with him. 

  “We destroyed the foundry.” 

  “Yeah? But at what cost?” He asks, and you don’t answer. You’d seen the defeat on the clones face as you and Obi-Wan had built them a pyre - a common occurrence after difficult campaigns to give the clones closure - and bid the fallen vode farewell. “We lost so many.” 

  “You didn’t lose me, Cody.” You whisper. “You never will.” 

He shakes his head. Once, twice, three times, he doesn’t believe you-

  “Phantom-” 

Standing in nothing but his blacks, you use the Force to place the pieces of his armor on the sofa before you turn back to him and grip his face in your hands. Your eyes are piercing, certain in your words, your fingers gentle as you cradle him in your grasps. 

  “Never.” You repeat. “You will never lose me.” 

It’s a declaration. One that Cody feels in the depths of his heart as he allows you to lead him into the ‘fresher. “Phantom,” His breath feels hollow in his throat as you turn to peer at him over your shoulder. “I-” The words are poised on the tip of his tongue and he has no problem saying it to the rest of his brothers.. but to you? It feels like he’s teetering on the edge of a boundary he dare not approach. 

  “Cody.” You breathe, taking him into your arms and guiding his hands to rest against your hips. “Look at me.” Dark eyes flutter open to meet your own as you lean in and just barely ghost his mouth with your own. Your fingers flex around the nape of his neck as you stand on the tips of your toes and open your mouth to him, sighing in relief as he blooms like the petals of a flower and opens beneath your touch. 

He hears the thought ring clearly in his mind. 

I love you. 

And the confession makes him want to weep. You’ve known, something tells him you’ve always known, but the fact that he doesn’t have to say it yet makes relief burst in his chest. Oh... there’s just something about the certainty in knowing the person you love also loves you just as fiercely. 

Cody looks at you, and he sees everything he has ever wanted since being brought into the cold sterile home of Kamino. 

You. He sees you. 

  “Just for one night, Cody.” You ask, gently guiding him into the bathtub and reaching for the shampoo on the side of the tub. Cody subconsciously leans into your touch as you begin to lather shampoo into his hair and quietly hum as you do so. “For once.. let someone take care of you. Can you do that?” 

He grips the side of the tub with lax fingers.

  “Of course I can,” He hums. “I’m home.” 

*** 

The Jedi Gardens are the most peaceful part of The Temple outside of the Room of a Thousand Fountains. You have spent much of your time there since before you were taken on as the padawan to High General Obi-Wan Kenobi, and even then, your previous Master had spent much of their time in here. It was the only place in the Temple you could find peace. 

Today, you’re spending your time engrossed in the mural of The Fallen that the Council had given you permission to paint. While you spent the majority of your time nowadays on the front lines with Obi-Wan and the 212th, your hobby during R&R was painting. This mural, this memory, was to test your ability. 

This was month six of working on it. 

Cody is wearing his civilian clothes - a gift from you nearly a year beforehand - and has his hands tucked into his pockets upon entering the temple Gardens. The two of you had agreed to meet for dinner ala picnic style in the Temple later that day despite his reluctance to meet you there for fear of.. people. There were only two jetti he trusted.

One of them he was looking at. 

Splattered in paint, hair messily tied on top of your head, he watches in awe as you finish Abel’s helmet and the blend of gold and white paint across the top before stepping back to admire the work. There’s nearly two dozen helmets painted across the rock face near the little waterfall on this side of the Temple Gardens, and Cody takes that into consideration because it’s truly a beautiful place for an eventual proposal. 

Not that he’s thought about it. 

  “Phantom, love-” He calls out softly, lips quirking upward in the ghost of a smile as you whip around at his presence and beam. He loves that smile. “That’s coming along really well. How long have you been here?” 

  “Just a couple hours.” Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you realize why he’s here. “Oh no, oh no-”

He runs a palm across your hip and pulls you against his body. “You forgot,” Cody muses. “It’s okay. You usually do whenever we come home from the front, but I’m not worried about it.” He bends his head down to ghost his lips over your pulse point, nuzzling your shoulder with his neck and peppering the bare skin there with kisses. Cody’s not sure there’s a sound more beautiful then your laughter. “Not when I’ve got everything I need right here.” 

He wouldn’t dare do this with his General or the vode around. This is a side of Cody only you get to see. 

And little Gods.. do you adore him. 

  “You’re a sap.��� 

  “One of us has to be.” 

You link your fingers with his own and lead him to the beginning of the mural. “I wanted to show you this,” You murmur, taking his hand and reaching upward to graze the first word written in white calligraphy across the top of the collected helmets. “For you, my love.” 

Across the top of the rock face reads, 

With you I serve, with you I fall down

A memorial to our fallen vode 

We will remember you 

Even when the world won’t 

[obutsuwrites]

work friends (miruko x reader, part 2)

summary: basically, miruko convinces reader to meet at the mall. possessive behavior and fingering ensue. 

warnings: light dom/sub, thigh riding, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, mommy kink

part one

my ao3 for more shitposts

my ko-fi~!

word count: 3,729

A high-pitched chirp pierced the woman’s dreamless sleep. Setting such a deafening ringtone was supposed to be an advantage. Hot stories don’t stop once night falls, an unfortunate truth the woman had already learned. The woman rolled over; tired hands latching onto her phone.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:45 am

ur laugh was almost cute 🤪

Speak of the devil, and she will appear.

Air caught in her throat, somehow worse than a punch in the gut. Crimson eyes burned in the woman’s mind. Cherry pits she couldn’t ignore. She exhaled. The act was almost orgasmic as greedy lungs resumed function.

What… what do I say? Naturally, words came to the woman like magic. A gift she attributed to countless All Might articles. All Might. His name felt heavy somehow now. The woman sighed and typed a short response.

「XXX」 | 12:47 am

This is Miruko, right?

Three dots appeared as half lidded eyes struggled to maintain focus. What does this stupid bunny want this late? Her mind felt fuzzy, as if she hadn’t slept at all. Exhaustion was rooted in her bones; a slow ache.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:48 am

wats ur addy

Of course. Wait. Is… is she trying to hook up? A lump of disgust and anxiety swelled within her stomach. Casual sex wasn’t foreign to the woman. It was a concept she celebrated, but the image of hungry, crimson eyes plagued her. Carnivorous orbs that threatened to eat her alive.

「XXX」 | 12:49 am

You woke me up. It’s *midnight*. I can interview you tomorrow.

This was a bargaining chip. Perhaps ignorance would save her. Or maybe I’m committing career suicide, she mused. Rumors and whispers of reporters doing “favors” for interviews wasn’t unheard of. Morality wasn’t a concern for the perfect article.

The woman stared intently at her phone, eyes bleary and heavy. Dread mounted in her stomach as minutes passed. The woman rubbed her eyes. Maybe she’s asleep already. The thought brought her comfort as sleep dusted over her. Fatigue had won.

≛

A hearty exhale left the woman as throbbing muscles stretched against morning light. Another dreamless sleep with a side of awkward sleeping positions. Nothing out of the ordinary for her. She layed in bed, determined to absorb the early sunlight. Eventually, the woman rolled over and began to check emails. Ignorance was a blessing. The woman’s phone vibrated in her hand, the motion jarring and obnoxious. Right. The rabbit.  

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 - INCOMING CALL

Red eyes flashed through her mind. Soft hands trembled, knuckles white and taunt. Her finger hovered over the answer button. The notification was imposing; a beast that dwarfed her. An electrical wave crept through the woman’s spine. Anxiety now rooted in her stomach.

“H-hello?”

The pro hero snickered. “Finally ya answer, kit. Think you owe me your name for the wait.” She could almost feel Miruko’s hot breath through the phone. A sweltering gust that starved the room of oxygen.

The woman swallowed, saliva thick and tongue bulky. She muttered her name like a prayer.

“Cute name, kit. You never replied to my text. Still game?” Miruko’s voice cut into the word kit, as if it were an insult. Belittling.

She shifted in bed, words unable to become tangible. Prey caught in the powerful jaws of a predator. Shivers continued to assault the woman as she opened Miruko’s text.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:55 am

watever. meet me @ hiro mall.

Hiro Mall. Hiro Mall! She giggled; the sound unnatural and falsetto. A laugh she hated. Hiro Mall was thirty minutes away via car, but… I don’t own a car. No reliable transportation!

“I don’t live near Hiro Mall. S-sorry, can’t do it.”

Miruko’s thin lips pulled a mischievous grin. “Don’t apologize, it’s annoying like that laugh. I’ll pick you up,” the Rabbit Hero insisted, tone assertive and deep. Like rich chocolate.

A sour expression spread through the woman’s features, panic in her veins. An icy chill ran into her skull. The beginnings of a migraine.

“N-no it’s fine. You’re probably too far away.” She glanced around, desperate to escape the call. “We can arrange an interview later in the week.” A mall is too unprofessional anyway.

“C’mon. I gotta scoop for you, little kit.” Miruko sounded almost eager. A tight edge to her voice.

Another laugh left the reporter as she spoke, “Listen, M-Mi-Miruko… I appreciate this offer I really do. I just can’t today. I have -- I have other arrangements today.”

The Rabbit Hero released a hearty chuckle. Playing hard to get, huh?

“Can’t clear your schedule for an interview with the number seven pro hero Miruko?” She teased.

She feigned a smile. “I did agree, didn’t I? O-okay. I’ll text you my address.” There was no escape from the rabbit. Coils of anxiety refused to unravel within her gut. Painful, hot bundles that tore into her.

“Good kit.” A click followed the rabbit’s voice. The woman released a pent-up whine.

Are all pro heroes this rude?  

≛

“I like your hat,” the woman mused, her sentence punctuated by a gentle chuckle. Miruko’s ears twitched at the sound.

Pro hero Miruko stood before her in casual attire; denim shorts, a plain t-shirt, and a brown baseball cap. It felt almost wrong to see the number seventh hero like this. Vulnerable. Human.

“That laugh was cute. Why don’t you laugh like that?” The ghost of a smirk rested against Miruko’s lips. Blush for me, kit.

A yell echoed through the mall before the woman could reply, “Hey! It’s Miruko! Miruko, can I get an autograph?!” Like magic, a young boy appeared in front of the couple, his smile was sunlight. Too bright to ignore. Pen and paper in tiny hands.

Crimson eyes observed the child with anticipation. She was not a rabbit, but a peacock. A peacock that revelved in attention.

“Sure!”

Miruko bent down and lightly grabbed the parchment from the boy; signing an indecipherable signature. The action seemed too gentle for the carnivorous woman. She’s creepy when she’s nice, the reporter thought as a shiver crawled down her skeleton. Like a dull ache in her bones.

The boy’s face broke out in a boyish grin; a smile too big for his face. Curious orbs drifted from the mythical hero and stuck to the unfamiliar figure beside the rabbit.

“Hey… are you a hero too? Are -- are you Miruko’s friend?” the boy prodded, his voice soaked in excitement and stars in his eyes.

The woman awkwardly shuffled and inspected her shoes. A pit began to widen in her stomach. The feeling left her empty and anxious. Starving. “Sorta. Work friends.”

“What’s it -- “

Before the child could ask, Miruko interjected. The woman’s tone was hard and rough, like sandpaper. “Sorry kid. We gotta bounce.”

Calloused hands reached for the reporter, finding purchase around her waist. A quiet yelp was exhaled from the woman; the sound sharp and sudden. Maroon rage bubbled under Miruko’s intense gaze as she ushered the woman away.

“Friends?” Miruko hissed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. The woman felt like injured prey, ready for the slaughter. “We’re not friends and you fucking know it.” Snowy ears twitched in annoyance. Little kit doesn’t know her place. The thought was venomous and ravenous; a lion starved and wild.

Her hand burns.

"Miruko… Are we not friends?" Curious eyes locked onto the rabbit. Begging for Miruko's attention. Was a pro hero a liar? Her brain felt branded by the question. Burnt. Ruined.

Large hands released the woman. Strong arms encased the woman; like a dragon hoarding gold. A wolf with teeth trained on a young doe. Poised, prepared. Miruko's heart threatened to leap from her chest, the sound like thunder. The woman couldn't ignore the roar against her.

The hero swallowed. "I want you to call me Usagi. No, Usagi. It'd sound cuter coming from you." Miruko grinned, lips too tight and teeth too sharp.

"Usagi, let me go. This is too intimate," the woman stated plainly. The situation was too familiar. Too similar to last night.

"You like my hat?"

Gross hot carrot breath.

Silver strands hung over muscular shoulders as a confident voice tickled the woman's ear.

"I'll try some on for you, because it's you!" Stars danced in Miruko's eyes. Crimson orbs now enveloped in joy.

≛

The couple sat on a bench, both parties tired from a day of giggles and coy smiles. Hidden signs of affection between the two. A genuine laugh from the woman made Miruko’s ears twitch in excitement. It was the same feeling she experienced before; the hero’s stomach was in knots. A hot, tangled mess that stung.

Miruko watched as the reporter gingerly checked her emails. She demanded a detour to rest and get her bearings. Miruko peered over her shoulder, unaware of the anxiety that began to bubble in the woman’s throat. Like mucus stuck in her nose. Thick and suffocating.

The woman turned to her, lips tugged into a curt grin. Too formal, too polite.

“I was thinking,” she began; still enamored by work, “you promised me an interview. We can grab lunch and I can pick your brain.” Finally, I’ll get my story. The woman vibrated with elation. It was a buzz that warmed her down into her bones. Her dreams were within reach; so many opportunities.

Miruko’s calloused palm slid across the woman’s thighs, creeping along as if to memorize the supple flesh. The rabbit wanted to bury herself between them. Pillowy thighs that touched deserved to be worshipped.

She caressed the woman’s thigh as she spoke, “Don’t live too far from here… You like your coffee black?” The hero’s casual attitude left a horrible taste in her mouth. A bitter, rotten taste. Miruko’s hand was scorching against her thigh, a juxtaposition to her clammy skin.

“No, tea. I know… I know of a cafe not far from here.” Words were impossible again. Intangible things. The woman’s sentence was punctuated with a shrill chuckle, another sign of internal concern. A part of her dreaded being alone -- in a private space -- with the hero. Famished eyes still regarded her as prey. Oval cherries.

“Got tea, too. I think you’re just scared. I don’t bite!” Much, Miruko thought, playful lips stretched into a lop-sided grin. She was desperate to taste the woman, to spread her apart and worship. Miruko kneaded the doughly flesh underneath her, as she waited for a response.

Finally, the woman looked away; too ashamed to face the rabbit.

“O-okay.”

≛

Miruko’s apartment was unexpected. It was plain -- almost unbelievable to imagine a hero living here -- much less the number seventh hero. The only noteworthy addition were flowers, as if the room had exploded in a bomb of flora and perfume. They looked out of place with morning dew still fresh on vibrant petals. Was she anticipating this? Hints of flowers assaulted the woman’s nose; the smell was nauseating.

“I redecorated!” Miruko blurted out, a move uncharacteristic for the headstrong woman. She felt exposed like this. The object of her desires was so close -- and yet the rabbit had to be vulnerable. It wasn’t uncommon for Miruko to bring a woman home, but a sea of flowers wasn’t her normal. She was inexperienced in...  this. The hero’s heart began to tremble again, the sound booming, leaving her breathless.

The woman only nodded, as if aware of the lie. “Flowers are pretty, aren’t they? I suppose we can start with the first question; Miruko… you don’t have a scoop for me, d-do you?” Her voice faltered as the woman lost her conviction. Plush lips quivered, afraid of the answer.

Her lips look so soft. Without thinking, a tanned finger brushed against the woman’s lips. Miruko quickly withdrew her hand. A muted pink dusted her cheeks, like a child caught. The hero’s snowy ears burned with embarrassment.

“Do it again.”

“What?” Miruko asked, hungry eyes wide. Saliva pooled in her mouth. A predator drooling over wounded prey.

“D-do it a-again.” The woman’s tone was pleading, in need of attention.

My attention, Miruko thought as she swiped a thumb across delicate lips. The flesh reminded the rabbit of her thighs. A familiar heat began to pool in the bottom of her stomach. The rabbit inched closer; the woman’s chin cradled in her palm, thumb still caressing her lips like ritual. Touching the woman was electric. A shock that left Miruko in a daze of want.

Hot breath tickled the woman’s nose as Miruko spoke, “I’m going to kiss you.” Chapped lips collided against the woman. The kiss was forceful and hungry. A lion finally ravishing a meal. Miruko continued to lean into her, as if trying to establish dominance. Gentle hands rested against the rabbit’s toned chest. Miruko tasted like carrots and mint. An obvious attempt to hide the vegetable. The weight of Miruko caused the woman to stumble, and the pair landed awkwardly on the carpeted floor. Miruko landed on top of the woman, hard muscles pressed against delicate flesh.

“Sorry, kit. Guess I got a little too excited. Are you okay?” Miruko’s tone was laced with worry. The genuine concern was new to the woman. Humanizing. Patches of red decorated the woman’s cheeks and her heart pounded against her ribcage like a drum. The sound was deafening.

Red orbs watched with interest and long strands of silver hair settled across small shoulders. Her hair tickled. The woman tried to stifle a chuckle and nodded, even now her soft frame was dwarfed by the hero.

Abruptly, Miruko kissed her again, grinding wide hips into the woman. The rabbit’s hands transversed the woman’s body, starving for her touch. Calloused palms cupped large breasts and massaged. Miruko’s touch wasn’t gentle like a lover’s, but rough and greedy. An involuntary moan slipped from the woman, who was now unable to keep composure. The hero took advantage; seeing the moment of weakness as an opportunity, and jammed a wet tongue into her mouth. Miruko’s hot tongue explored the damp chasm. She wanted to commit every part of the woman to memory.

The rabbit pulled away, the act only to allow her companion fresh air. Lungs gasped for air. Hungry and starved. Before she could force in another lungful, Miruko pressed further against her, and roughly grabbed tiny wrists. The woman was puzzled by the action until she felt the warm presence of Miruko’s finger hooked around her waistband. Miruko licked her lips in anticipation as drool threatened to leak out.

Crimson orbs locked onto the woman, as if to ask permission.

“Please,” she begged. Her voice was small and quiet. Too ashamed to admit the burning ache that settled into her core. The need for Miruko hurt. The woman was racked with impatience. She wanted needed the hero’s greedy fingers in between her.

A thunderous laugh vibrated from Miruko as she discarded the woman's undergarments. “You’re so cute. Submissive and begging for Miruko the hero.” The rabbit shoved a thick finger in between large thighs -- thighs Miruko wanted to dig into. Miruko’s finger curled inside the woman’s craving, wet core. Vicious teeth were bared in a smirk; she could just eat the woman. Devore her whole. On instinct, Miruko’s mouth latched onto the woman’s neck. Her pulse was rapid against the hero’s tongue as Miruko began to suck upon the supple flesh. Erotic sounds of pleasure escaped the woman. Her face was flustered and on fire, a sweltering heat that ravaged her.

Determined fingers pumped into the woman’s slickness. She lifted her hips into Miruko, franic for the hero. Her stomach twisted as shivers shot through her spine.

“Tell Mirko the hero how needy you are. Beg for me.”

"U-Usagi --"

"Miruko," the hero corrected, her sentence punctuated by a second finger. The sudden intruder caused the woman to gasp. Such a cute noise! Miruko curled the second finger and pumped both digits in rhythm. The woman continued to lift her hips, greedy for Miruko's touch.

A low whimper drifted from the woman, "Mi-Miruko, please, please, please … Kiss me. Claim me." She shrunk under the rabbit's gaze. The heat across her cheeks felt permanent. The woman quickly turned away, too embarrassed to allow Miruko a peek.

Miruko grabbed her hips and shoved the soaking woman against her. A small puddle began to pool against the rabbit's shorts. The woman -- too enthralled by Miruko's fingers -- was blissfully unaware of her mess. Delicate wrists were released as sturdy hands palmed the wet spot.

"Look at what you did, kit," Miruko said, placing the woman's hand against the puddle. Gentle orbs locked onto the mess; her cheeks now a vibrant red. Like poppies on her cheeks. She quickly withdrew her hand; as if the puddle was fire.

The woman's voice was muffled and hushed. "I’m s-sorry…” she mumbled, her face hidden by trembling hands. Embarrassment was segmented back into her reality; the woman left too conscious of Miruko’s gaze. It was uncommon for strangers to see the woman so… exposed. Even past lovers weren’t afforded the treat.

“You’re just leaking for me. So fucking wet for Miruko.” She wiped a finger across the mess and used another hand to free the woman’s sight. “I want you to watch.” Miruko’s sentence was entwined with lust. An insatiable need. The rabbit brought her juice stained finger to her mouth and sucked, cannibalistic red eyes locked on the woman. Her pink tongue swirled around the digit. A line of saliva connected the rabbit’s finger as she slowly dragged the apendenge from her mouth. After teasing the woman, Miruko shoved the spit covered digit into the woman. Her cunt now ached with three thick fingers. It felt like too much; her core stretched around Miruko.

The hero didn’t continue to finger fuck the woman. Like a predator playing with injured prey. Enjoying her meal.

Pleading eyes bore into Miruko as she pulled her soaked fingers from the woman. Lips held a dirty smirk. “Rub your clit against my thighs, mommy wants to feel your cunt.” The woman winced at the word. It sounded so dirty, so inappropriate… and yet she shivered at the hero’s words. Desperate for relief, desperate for stimulation; the woman began to rub her slickness against the hero’s exposed thigh. Her face almost sizzled with a crimson blush. She felt the heat up to her ears. Molten lava.

The woman was unable to face Miruko’s starving eyes. Cherries that wanted to rip and tear into her. Muffled sobs racked the woman; the sensations of embarrassment and pleasure blended together in a blur of pathetic arousal. Her body betrayed her as she grinded harder into Miruko’s thigh, the stimulation proving not enough for her swollen clit. The woman could feel the hot blood that pulsed through her core.

“Mi-Miruko, f-fuck me,” she begged.

“Look at you, kit, using such dirty words. You call this begging? This is pathetic. Tell Miruko how much of a slut you are.” Her tone was aggressive, as if the woman’s pathetic nature was an offense.

She swallowed, her mouth devoid of spit as she sobbed, “Please, Miruko! I’m such a slut; I need your fingers! Please, please, please.” The woman’s sentence was chanted, almost like a mantra. A perverted prayer.

Sharp teeth clashed against the woman’s ear. “Sit on my face. Wanna fuckin’ drown in you.” Miruko’s voice was no higher than a whisper. Like a secret between friends. Without hesitation, the woman nodded and stood up as Miruko positioned herself between pillowy thighs. The rabbit’s mouth salivated in anticipation. I’m going to fucking devour you.

The woman slowly lowered herself onto the hero, afraid of injuring her. She wasn’t small and fit like Miruko. She was big and jiggly. Like jello. A body Miruko wanted to grab fistfulls of as she fucked her into a mattress; letting the woman know how beautiful she was. Her aching, wet cunt finally made contact with Miruko’s pink tongue. Sandwiched between gigantic thighs, Miruko began to run her tongue down the woman’s folds. The woman released a lustful moan. She clamped a hand to her shy mouth as Miruko’s tongue slipped into her. She yelped at the sudden action. Miruko snickered underneath the woman, her sounds were like calls from heaven. Honey that coated her ears in a thick sweetness.

She worked at the woman’s mound, only encouraged by her lewd sounds. The woman could no longer muffle her moans; her body stuck in a sea of shivers. Her tongue -- her tongue felt so fucking good. Wide hips grinded into Miruko, hungry to have her tongue deeper within. Two thick fingers plunged into her hole, replacing Miruko’s tongue. The rabbit’s digits slapped into the woman’s drenched thighs. Her tongue wandered up to a swollen, red clit. She took the bud into her mouth and swirled the blood filled nub.

“F-fuck…” A long moan punctuated her sentence as Miruko began to suck on her clit; her fingers scissoring within her, stretching her. The woman’s greedy walls contracted around Miruko. The woman’s large chest heaved as breathing seemed impossible. Hot, short breaths mixed with wails of ecstasy. Miruko continued to suck on the woman’s clit, treating her puffy nub like a treat. Her tanned face now slick with the woman’s juices. The room was filled with the sloppy sounds of the woman’s cunt and her moans. Miruko’s ears couldn’t help but rapidly twitch, the rabbit almost too excited.

“Stop… stop, I’ll cum!” The woman whined, her voice lecherous and heavy. Like a fog. Her confirmation caused Miruko’s fingers to ramp up in speed, fingers now curled inside. An audible pop sounded as Miruko released the woman’s puffy nub. The rabbit’s sharp teeth grazed the sensitive flesh. She alternated between sucking and nibbling the woman’s clit. The woman felt an uncomfortable tremble crawl through her stomach, settling at the bottom. Her body begged for release.

A string of profanities erupted from the woman as she came, juices squirting down Miruko’s chin. The hero licked her lips, still hungry. With her moment of bliss gone, and her body weak, the woman gingerly stood up. Her ears and face were a bright pink; like cotton candy.

Miruko gazed at the woman, a lop-sided smirk ghosting her face. “You got me drenched in your pussy. C’here and clean it up, kit.”

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - Buying MC A Gift

– Zen –

For years, Zen dreamed of buying his love a classic, dainty necklace, romantically delivered in a box all wrapped up in a silk bow. And now he has you! A chance to fulfill this boyfriend dream of his!

He tends to kind of, enforce an image of cuteness on you, even if it’s not your aesthetic. He just likes his love to be innocent and girly. It’s okay if you’re not, he loves you just as much. But when he buys you things, it almost always swings in that direction ‘cause he’s a little unconsciously stubborn like that. 

So he checks his savings and decides that, yep, he’s got enough to splurge a bit, and buys a gold heart necklace. It wasn’t luxurious, nor designer, it was just this teeny 24k gold pendent on a gold-colored chain. The best he could afford at the moment. He asks the store to gift wrap it with the most ‘romantic ribbon’ they have available.

The two of you go on one of your many lunch dates, where Zen has to tuck his hair underneath a hat to make sure the both of you aren’t hassled, and you eat sandwiches with coffee in a cute little shop. 

He slides the box over to you, and there’s this huge smile on his face when you open it to fawn over your gift. 

“It’s only a small thing, but I hope you like it. One day, I’ll be rich enough to afford what you deserve, jagiya.” 

He reaches over and pulls your hair aside to put it around your neck. You touch it with your fingers. It’s all just like his old fantasies. Zen’s romantic dream #35329 fulfilled!

Romantic dream #35330 was when you eventually mentioned to someone in passing, “Oh this necklace? My boyfriend bought it for me.” He just about melted. 

– Yoosung –

For many years, Yoosung didn’t have much money to his name. But he still wanted to buy you gifts because he couldn’t stop thinking about you? Every day he’d daydream about the two of you, about what kind of stuff you’d like to do?? He’d pass by windows of shops and think, “Would MC like this?”

Once he decided to start giving you gifts, he’d kind of freak out a bit because he was worried he’d give you something stupid. He googled for ideas, and talked to Zen, but couldn’t decide what sort of trinkets to shower you with. 

He couldn’t afford good chocolates, and he didn’t know how to buy clothing for another person without going up to you and being like, “Oh, by the way, MC ... what’s your shirt size? Asking for a friend - wait no that’s not what I meant -”

One day, he walks into a bookstore to shop for more mechanical pencils, and by coincidence found large selections of gift items. There’s scented candles! Creative desk toys! Gag gifts of flavored bubble gum and imported mints! 

He ends up choosing what he thought was the cutest. You’d like cute things, right? Cute stuff is universally cheery, so he’d thought you’d enjoy the character-designed set of highlighter markers. 

Turns out that yes, you did enjoy them, and he puffs up with pride all day because yay!! He did a boyfriend thing!

His later gifts were of similar caliber, like sticker sheets or pretty notepads. And later, he finally branches out of the bookstore and looks as jewelry, chocolate boxes, and flower bouquets. Regardless of what he chose, you always loved them. 

– Jaehee –

Most of her ‘gifts’ tend to be of the practical bend. Like stuff for the house both of you end up using, or a set of nice socks because she remembered you mentioning that you needed to replenish your stock.

Not the most romantic gifts, but arguably more appreciated because of how useful they were. Jaehee’s your Functional Adult™ girlfriend and it brings you plenty of joy.

But sometimes she’s compelled to be more whimsical. Her job at C&R didn’t leave her with nothing, and the cafe’s been going so well her wallet’s been more stacked than ever before. So it didn’t take much for her to walk into that gourmet chocolate boutique and purchase a sample box of their best truffles.

Managing your own small business means evenings are usually free. You and Jaehee enjoy a homemade meal, and settle down to drink some beer and watch dramas. Before you can relax completely, she goes, “Oh, I remembered something,” goes to the bedroom, and walks out with a small paper bag. 

“Just a little thing I bought earlier today. I saw it and thought of you.” You opened to reveal your chocolates, your smile making Jaehee’s eyes light up.

You insisted she share them with you, but she refused. She got a smaller box especially to avoid you wanting to share a portion with her. The two of you share most of her gifts already, this is intended to be for you and only you.

So instead you enjoyed your chocolates, biting them in half and showing Jaehee how the chefs filled each one, and discussing the flavors. It gave her inspiration for a new seasonal mocha blend for the cafe!

– Jumin –

Rip in fucking pieces your old commoner life. If a month doesn’t go by where Jumin doesn’t try get you at least two designer items, the world is ending. 

Salvatore handbags. Jewelry from Prada. Balmain dresses. Vuitton shoes. Gourmet boxed strawberries, giant influencer sets of luxury makeup, oh Valentino is producing these cute teddy bears for some reason? Here’s five. 

He’s pretty unpredictable about it, too. Some days, he comes home from a business trip with only one piece for you, for which you’re almost thankful for the lack of a heart attack. And sometimes, he just ups and gets you a car or something, or five new Saint Laurent blouses.

Depending on who you are, it can get pretty overwhelming, or even troubling. All this worth sitting in your room, and is it even towards a productive cause? You remember the days when your family had to struggle with debt and insurance and student loans, you think of all you know who have to deal with eviction and EBT cards, you think of those who starve or die from sickness because they have no money.

You try to explain to Jumin that all this excess is so ... it’s too much. “But my love, I just want to spoil you,” he says. 

 “Then spend more time with me. Don’t blow all this money on material things. I want you.”

That’s a harder thing for Jumin to grant. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to his work, and it’s an internal struggle for him to forgo his crowded schedule to make room for you. 

But it’s a gift that rewards you both. Jumin’s time clears up a bit more, and he stops trying to bury you in luxury you don’t need. You get to wake up next to him more, and spend afternoons and evenings and nights with him. It’s the best gift he could ever give you. 

– Saeyoung –

No, this is not a shitpost. This boy gifts you a fucking gun. Which, depending on who you are, could even spark an argument where Saeyoung insists strongly that he just wants to keep you safe. Carrying guns is highly illegal in South Korea, but since when did Saeyoung care about the law?

You woke up one morning to Saeyoung already five hours deep into his work, because his sleep schedule is still fucked up even though he’s no longer part of the agency. A strange black box was next to your handbag, and you opened it to reveal a small plastic pistol with ammo cartridges. 

“It should be small enough to fit in your purse. Keep the safety on unless you want to shoot. Stay safe, baby - S”

Saeyoung already gives you crazy gifts of robot cats, automatic night lights, talking dolls, and even at one point a taser. But this was crossing a line. If you got caught with this in your purse, it’d be a legal disaster. 

Now granted, Saeyoung didn’t actually intend for you to be carrying a concealed firearm whenever you go to the cornerstore to buy milk. He just kinda thought it’d be an extra precaution during more troubled times. Being slightly sleep deprived and hopped up on soda at the time didn’t help his decision making. 

You wait until he leaves his hacker den to testily shove the gun under his nose and demand an explanation. He pleads his case, and tries to insist that he was only thinking of your safety.

If you’re not comfortable carrying the gun around, he helps you tuck it away in an accessible part of the bunker. 

“Please, baby, just let me know you’re protected.” He hugs you, and you thank him for his thoughtfulness. Even if its a bit weird. 

– Saeran –

His Ray alter would have scoured the globe for anything you asked of him. Saeran today still wants to spoil you as much as he can. Which, as his life slowly stabilizes, begins to grow in opportunity.

Like his brother, he makes tech for you. Mostly software, such as tricking out your laptop to have firewall defense that no money could buy, or hotwiring your phone to run quicker and faster than new.

His money begins to flow in from freelance work, and he starts to look for more classically romantic gifts. First, it was bouquets of flowers he’d surprise you with, then it was little wrapped boxes of macaroons, and then he would shop for crystal jewelry and expensive perfumes.

He wanted to pursue that ‘princess’ image. He no longer tried to force you into it, but instead let it inspire his romantic bent. Every holiday or occasion that allowed for the slightest excuse for gift giving, and he was guaranteed to give you something or another. On Chuseok, he gave you a silk shawl. For Halloween, it was a large box of decorated sweets. On Christmas, it was a pressed flower pendent. New Years was a smart watch that he reprogrammed. 

And on random occasions, he’ll still come home with a large bouquet of carefully arranged flowers, or perhaps a new potted plant to decorate the house. 

You always reward him with a kiss, and it makes him feel really appreciated. A bit of loving normalcy in his otherwise troubled life. 

– Jihyun –

While Jumin tends to be very ostentatious with his wealth, Jumin is a lot more reserved. He may not buy you Chanel coats on a whim, but he still shells out quite large amounts of money for dinner at a fancy restaurant, or a beautiful hand-printed silk scarf he bought while working in Shanghai.

When he buys you smaller gifts, he picks up things from co-ops and other independent, artsy places, usually while he’s running other errands. He’d be shopping for kitchen gadgets and touring the wellness section, and he spotted this beautiful set of bath salts that he’d thought you enjoy. Or, he’s on his way back from the gym and passed a natural produce boutique, and saw a gorgeous gift box of unique tea mixes. 

He’s a believer of sustainable living, so most of what he buys he tries to put his money towards ethical practices. So if you’re getting something from him, expect it to be natural-grade, vegan, fair-trade, etc. Whether its a bag of candied oranges, or a pearl necklace. 

He likes to be spontaneous with his casual trinkets, and traditional when it comes to occasions. You never know if he’s gonna come back from grocery shopping with a scented candle for you, but it’s for sure that he’s got some special bracelet or hair barrettes for Valentine’s. 

To him, these are all just evidences of his newfound peace and tranquility. There’s nothing like being out and about, seeing something, and being able to go, “Hm! I wonder if my love would like this?” So it propels him to buy it and test out the hypothesis. And it almost always results in your smile, which to him is the best reward.

[animetrashlord-007]

Tumblr Takeover

Word Count;; 2.2k

Genre;; Fluff

Pairing;; Ushijima x Reader

Summary;;

You groaned as you scrolled through your Tumblr profile, glaring at the content that seemed to have no end. What used to be your messy, themeless blog filled predominantly with anime, nightblogging and the occasional debate, now contained volleyball. Only volleyball.

[The cringe is real, folks]

Notes;; Published: 2017-04-06

My Masterlist

   You groaned as you scrolled through your Tumblr profile, glaring at the content that seemed to have no end. What used to be your messy, themeless blog filled predominantly with anime, shitposting and the occasional debate, now contained volleyball. Only volleyball. You slammed your laptop shut before packing your school supplies and running out the door. Your teacher would never let you hear the end of it if you were late for the third day in a row, even if you tried to pass the blame onto a certain third year. It was his fault after all; he altered your entire blog overnight without asking beforehand, and the early morning discovery put you into a temporary state of shock. You growled and quickened your pace - no sane teacher would accept that excuse and you had no intention of gaining detention because of a volleyball-obsessed dork. Once you reached class (on time, much to your amazement), your irritation faded. As much as you hated to admit, it wasn't his fault. You should have expected this to happen sooner or later. You knew what you were getting into when you shared your account with him. He had told you his intentions at the beginning: Ushijima wanted to share his love of volleyball with you and your poor followers.

   It wasn't like you disliked the sport either; you knew your school’s team well enough to attend their matches (with only mild persuasion necessary on their part) and, while you could see the appeal, it wasn't your first pick for a hobby. In fact, it wouldn't be your second or third pick either, but if you had to choose a sport… you might consider it. In all honesty, the thing you enjoyed most about volleyball was the players. Shiratorizawa’s team was determined and they had talent. Somehow your admiration for their abilities had led you to befriending each of them to different degrees. When you saw Tendou in the halls, you’d yell manga references at one another, each quote becoming more obscure than the last, until the bell rang and you both bolted to class. Goshiki did his best to avoid you after watching you challenge Shirabu to an impromptu dance-off, which, to his horror, his upperclassman accepted. Neither of you were being very serious as you dropped it low and pumped it up, laughing at how stupid you both looked, yet Goshiki claimed to be scarred for life. At lunch most days you pretended to study with Yamagata and Ohira whilst spamming Semi with memes and vine compilations. He once blessed you with a response, and had it not been at two in the morning after a long night of studying, you would have been impressed with the video of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” on loop for ten hours. Never in your life would you have suspected to be Rick Rolled by your senpai, but you weren't one to back down from a challenge. Feeling invigorated, you continued to spam him every chance you got. To his regret, that included sending TED talks about asexual reproduction in various species in the dead of night when you were unable to sleep.

   “I think the real question here is why the hell do you watch videos about animal reproduction at midnight every week?” Semi sighed as he wiped the sweat off his brow before throwing his towel at you.

   “Gross! I don't want your stinky towel!” You snapped, tossing it back. You grimaced as you stretched, the obnoxious cracking of several joints resonated throughout the gym. After being hunched over your textbooks for the first half of their practice, it was nice to stand up and move your tired muscles. Goshiki muttered a protest to your presence under his breath, which you elected to ignore.

   “No way, she still sends those to you?” Tendou bellowed, slapping his friend’s back with a grin. The setter shrugged, shooting you glare before walking back onto the court, leaving you with the middle blocker. His grin fell into a devious smirk upon seeing your narrowed eyes. Knowing full well what his mind was focused on and that he had no intention of letting his inquiry go unanswered, you stalked toward the door. He kept pace with you, poking you as he continued, “You can't avoid it that easily.”

   Feigning naivety, you quipped, “I don't watch them, I just send them to Semi to bug him.”

   “Oh, no, no, you don’t. Not that question, the one before that. Why don't you annoy Ushijima like you do everyone else?”

   You allowed a quick smile to flicker across your features before turning to the boy who was still following you to the door and ignoring his coach’s calls to return to the damn court already. Pure bliss flooded your mind as you pursed your lips, hand lifted over your heart in mock despair as your eyes quivered. Giving yourself a mental pat on the back for being on the verge of tears, you whispered, “I annoy you, Satori-kun?”

   “No! Of course not! I just meant-”

   “I'm sorry, Satori-kun, I'll leave you all alone from now on,” a single tear flowed down your cheek and you just about imploded with pride. Who needs to take theatre courses when you have this much natural talent?

   “No, no! Don't cry!” Looking to his teammates for help, he pointed at you with exasperation. His silent pleas were met with snickers as they each turned their back on the scene.

   On the outside, you were a delicate mess. On the inside, however, you were rejoicing. No longer was his mind on why you acted just a touch different with the team’s ace (since evidently nothing slipped past those maroon eyes of his), but rather on how to stop the waterworks that threatened to break before him. All that was left was to run out of the gym, celebrate your narrow escape, and continue to avoid him until you could formulate a believable excuse. You didn't want him to catch on to the small crush you had developed on Ushijima, but more importantly, you didn't want him to know about your Tumblr. He would never let you live down your low-effort blog after he had shown you his organised manga-themed one. Nevermind the the flack you would receive about how much of a pushover you had become to allow Ushijima full reign over it. Perhaps you could lie and say that the third year intimidated you, so you didn't want to push your luck around him. Maybe fortune would favour you and Tendou would drop the subject completely after this disaster. Knowing him, however, that was unlikely.

   “I'll just go, since I annoy you-”

   “What did you do this time?” A gravelly voice resounded across the room. It sent shivers down your spine as you faced the sound. Ushijima towered over you, a mix between confusion and disappointment aimed toward Tendou. The redhead just laughed before running back onto the court.

   “Hey Wakatoshi-kun, did you finish your exam?” You fumbled with your bag strap as you tried to sidle out of his vision. Much to your dismay, his eyes followed you with an intensity that would make a weaker person crumble.

   “What did he do?” Reiterating his question with a deepening frown, he moved in front of the door and blocked your escape.

   “Oh, you know Tendou-kun. Everything he does is annoying. Well, I've got to go!”

   “Before you leave, did you see our Tumblr? I changed it a little.”

   “A little?” You repeated, bitterness tainting the smile you flashed toward him, “You changed it more than a little, Ushijima-kun. My favourite part of it would have to be the ask from a mutual about why I'm suddenly a volleyball blog, and if I'm sharing my account because it seemed even more all over the place than usual and I just loved waking up to a new theme as well. Yes, it was very nice, Ushiwaka-kun, very nice.”

   “You should try regulating your breathing, you look flustered. I am glad you liked it, however. I spent a decent amount of time on it,” he nodded, brushing past you to join his team in their practice. Unbelievable.

   “Oi, you! We're not done here! I'll be calling you tonight, so, uh, prepare yourself!” You shouted after him, huffing at his thumbs-up. A tinge of pink painted the tips of your ears when Semi and Shirabu smirked at you, which bloomed into a full blush at Tendou’s, “You can call on him anytime!”

   The rest of the day whirled by in a blur. You couldn't procrastinate on Tumblr without being reminded of your new theme, which turned off your desire to slack off in general. You finished your homework early, then you finished next week’s as well. Something seemed off, but you didn't stop to question it - you were motivated to work for once and you didn't want to jinx your flow. Even after finishing two essays, you had time to kill before you could call Ushijima. Since he was tardy to practice, he would undoubtedly stay late to make up the lost time. Heading to the kitchen, you grabbed out the ice cream and threw yourself down on the couch. With nothing left to do, binge-watching Netflix would feel rather guilt-free for once. Your relaxation was cut short when you heard a knock at the door.

   “I don't want to buy your shit, go away!”

   “It's Ushijima,” a palpable pause, “and I'm not selling anything. I have your textbooks. You left them in the gym.”

   You groaned at your own stupidity. How could you have let Tendou work you up enough to abandon your textbooks? On top of that, you allowed your desire to scold Ushijima to blind you to your obvious lack of study material. Without it, the likelihood of errors had increased exponentially. You smacked yourself with a pillow; now you would have to double-check all your homework. Anxiety tickled your numbing thoughts as you turned off the television. You didn't make any effort to meet him at the door, “Ugh, just come in already.”

   He offered a nod in acknowledgement as he entered the living room and placed the books on the table. He sat down next to you, smiling as he grabbed the dessert from your hands. You were used to him being in your home after many an afternoon spent showing him how to use Tumblr. What came as a surprise was watching him eat the ice cream. Most days he would return it to the freezer, disregarding your pleas. You took the chance to observe him while his own gaze fell to the carpeted floor. The embodiment of a proper gentleman, he maintained perfect posture. He was still in his school uniform, and he always looked tense in it, but he seemed to loosen up when he was in your home. You knew he had taken a shower at the school, which he usually did after practice, because his hair had been styled once more. You always appreciated how the minty scent of his body wash lingered throughout your house even after he left. His clothes seemed tighter, clinging to his damp skin, providing an even more exquisite view of his muscles. Eyes falling to his legs, you let your mind wander and toy with the notion of seeing those thighs bare of clothing. You didn't notice when he turned to you at last, still lost in your own somewhat perverted thoughts. Coughing to gain your attention, he cocked an eyebrow, “Enjoying yourself?”

   “Shut up, you smell nice.”

   He blinked, a tinge of red dusting his cheeks, before continuing, “What did you want to talk about?”

   “I was going to call you. You didn't need to arrive at my house unannounced and start eating my food,” you mumbled, hitting his arm, “but I wanted to talk to you about getting your own Tumblr. Or, I guess since you already took over mine, I could start a new one.”

   “Why?”

   “What do you mean why, doofus? When I showed you my Tumblr, I didn't intend for you to take it over. I just thought you might want to see that someone posted one of your matches and it was getting notes,” you sighed, hitting his arm again. He chuckled at the effort, lifting a spoon of the frozen dessert to your lips. You swore under your breath as your cheeks exploded with crimson heat upon swallowing the treat.

   “I'm sorry,” he placed the tub of ice cream on the table before facing you once more, taking your hands within his, “You mentioned how your blog was personal to you, and I enjoyed that you shared it with me. I enjoy spending time you.”

   “Oi, you can't just say things like that! Dammit, Bakatoshi! You're making me blush!” You slapped his arm once more, earning an amused grunt from the attractive volleyball-obsessed idiot. He leaned in to you, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear.

   “It was nice having something that was ours,” You could feel his breath on your lips as he caressed your cheek. Your heart skipped a few beats, waiting for him to make his move.

   “Geez, just kiss me already, Wakatoshi-kun!” You closed the gap, lips smashing against his. If he was surprised by your forwardness, he didn’t show it. Instead he entwined his fingers within your hair, returning the kiss with equal passion. Patience was never one of your strong suits, not that either of you were complaining.

[livian-lucifenia]

Another Soft Fic™

༻﹡﹡﹡❤💚﹡﹡﹡༺

This is like a prologue to the eboy AU, which has 10 different variations at this point, bc my mind takes things and runs with them.

They're about 15-16-ish and just staring to develop their individual clothing styles. Green's got a bit of a soft grunge thing going on, and Red is the softest pastel boy there is.

Green's jacket is basically the one he wears in HGSS, except it's all black, denim, and has a bunch of holes in random spots. (definitely didn't base it on an jacket I have irl. nope. not at all.)

I will read this over later and make corrections where needed, bc this was written while I was running on 2 hours of sleep.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Red hated airports.

Too many people, too much noise, and never enough space.

But for right now, he hated it a bit less. Green was here, and so was Daisy, and his mom.

He could cling to Green's side and avoid the intimidating crowds, listen to his voice and tune out the chattering of other people. It was as if Green himself was Red's safety bubble. With him around, he wasn't as afraid of venturing out of his comfort zone.

And that's what made Red so scared to see Green leave for Kalos.

His security blanket in human form was leaving for three years, and he was terrified. He'd already cried over it once this morning, and was trying his best to keep his emotions in check while sitting next to Green.

"I have about twenty minutes before boarding starts. You wanna go grab a snack or something?", Green said, nudging Red's shoulder.

Red felt the sting in his eyes again. He only had twenty minutes left with him? "Can we... just stay here?", he asked quietly, staring down at his lap.

"Yeah, that's fine. Are you okay?"

"Hm?"

"You've been really quiet- Well, more quiet than usual."

Red rubbed his arm, "It's just cold in here..." And I've been thinking about you all day, because I don't want you to leave.

"Oh, then...", Green moved forward on his seat, taking off his black jacket and handing it to Red, "Here."

"But you're leaving soon...", he looked down at the jacket, thumbs rubbing over the worn, soft denim.

"Keep it."

"Wh-What?"

"It's getting kinda small for me, so just keep it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I was gonna give it to you anyway. I know black clothes aren't your thing, but I thought it would be a nice parting gift.", He smiled, watching Red put on the jacket. It was a bit too big, and stood out against his light colored clothing, but looked good on him nonetheless.

The warmth of the jacket felt good against Red's arms, and the familiar smell of Green's cologne helped calm him. He really was going to miss Green. A lot more than he originally thought. With that sudden realization, the first couple tears fell from his eyes. Red heard Green softly call his name and hesitantly turned to look at him.

Green frowned, "If I had known you were this upset over me leaving, I would have tried to spend more time with you. I'm sorry...", he leaned over, wrapping his arms around Red. He could feel each sharp inhale as Red tried to stop crying. It made him feel horrible to know that he had to leave him like this, and couldn't comfort him.

Red returned the embrace, holding on to Green's shoulders tightly. It felt nice, having Green hold him. But he knew it was short-lived, and that any minute now he would have to let go and watch Green leave.

Sure enough, the boarding announcement sounded through the airport and Red felt his heart sink. He held on to him tighter, hands gripping his black t-shirt.

"Red, I... I have to go.", Green reluctantly released his hold, "I promise I'll call everyday.", he said, wiping some of Red's tears away.

Red nodded sadly, completely removing himself from Green. "I'll miss you..."

"I'll miss you too, Red.", he stood up, grabbing his backpack from the floor in the process.

Red's mom and Daisy came over to say their goodbyes while Red pulled Green's jacket around himself. He was trying his best not to cry again, but when he saw Green turn away to leave, he couldn't stop. Without realizing it, he took a few steps forward, as if his feet moved on their own to follow Green. He watched as Green approached the gathering crowd of people, and suddenly stopped, turning back to look in their direction.

When he looked back at Red, he knew he couldn't leave him like this. He only had a few short minutes to spare, but it was enough. Green ran back to him, hugging him one last time, "I'll see you during spring break. Please don't cry anymore..."

Green pulled away to look at him, his hand moving up to hold Red's face before leaning back in and kissing him. He could taste Red's strawberry chapstick, feel his soft skin beneath his fingertips, and Arceus he didn't want to leave him. He pulled away, only to press a couple more quick kisses to his lips, "I'll call as soon as I get settled in, okay?", he said quietly.

Red's eyes fluttered open and looked up into Green's, he nodded, "Please stay safe..."

"I will, don't worry."

One last soft, slow kiss and then he was gone for real this time.

Red smiled, sliding his hands into the pockets of Green's jacket, maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

First new fic I've written in a while, and I'm not exactly proud of it, but whatever.

If you liked this, feel free to scroll through my blog and read some of my other stuff!! There's, AUs, old fics, edits, prompts, and shitposts galore 💜💜

🖤Asks and replies are always welcomed!!🖤

[spacehologramcollection]

Request; Kombat Krew finding their S/O on their side of the bed after a mission;

Some more fluff, some smut later tonight! Mentions of Kano, but its once more, a shitpost on him.  Another long post, so more under the cut! GIFS do not belong to me. 

Sub-Zero (Kuai Liang);

·         When he gets in, he tries not to wake you, he feels guilty about waking you up anyway. It’s like 3 in the morning, he’s already two hours late back, he just wants to get into bed and sleep. It’s way past his bedtime. The man usually sleeps at like 11. Sharp.

·         When he sees you on his side of the bed, its his because it’s closest to the window and door, and furthest from the fire. Which is lit to keep you warm. He kind of smiles.

·         You’re curled up, the blankets wrapped firmly around you, softly sleeping. You’re on his side because it sort of smells of him and you miss him.

·         He kind of just observes for a little while, slowly walking over, to stroke your hair whilst you sleep. Before planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You’re so precious.

·         He’s that tired that he’s not overly bothered which side he sleeps on, just as long as he’s in bed and he’s got you next to him.

·         Its moments like these, which make him wish he didn’t have to leave as often; but if he didn’t leave, then he’d miss moments like this. What a fucking paradox.

·         He’ll crawl into bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and spooning you. He prefers to sleep with you on his chest, but this will have to do, he doesn’t want to wake you after all.

Kabal;

·         He tries. He really tries to come in as silent as the fucking night. But it never works out. He’ll knock everything over in the hallway, accidentally turn on one too many lights and make so much noise trying to pour a glass of fucking water.

·         He’ll end up walking into the bedroom, trying to pull of his boots and get ready to crash. Only to see you’re laying on his side of the bed, which is the one with the bedside table full of junk. Post-Burn its go his lotion

·         He’ll see you, happily sleeping away, wearing one of his t-shirts, a dozy smile on your face. Your eyes fluttering around as you dream.

·         He smiles to himself, before quickly trying to take a picture, its fucking dark and he doesn’t want to use the flash. So that failed miserably.

·         Instead he’ll quickly undress and slide in next to you, slowly trying to roll you over, like the blanket burrito you’ve become. He has to sleep on his side, it’s got his charger, glasses and tablet.

·         He tries to roll you over so delicately, but it always ends up with you nearly falling off the bed. If you’re a heavy sleeper, that’s great, if you’re a light sleeper then you probably woke up before he got in the apartment. The noise he makes, is unbelievable.

·         He ends up sliding in on his side, he has to sleep on his side, before rearranging you. He’ll end up spooning you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

·         Post-Burn- if he’s not feeling so confident, he’ll stroke some hair from your face, before going to sleep on the sofa. He usually ends up sleeping on it anyway. Why wake you up?

·         If his confidence has returned, he’ll slide in next to you, he doesn’t care much about the side anymore. He just wants to steal some of your warmth and sleep. He’s fucking tired.

Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi);

·         He thrives at night, so he seldom comes to bed with you, and you always manage to roll over onto his side of the bed. It’s just a normal occurrence.

·         So when he comes back from a mission, to see you sleeping so soundly on his side of the bed, he is more than prepared.

·         He’ll scoff and mutter to himself, about what is the point of having designated sides of the bed.

·         He’s not overly bothered, but he fucking is, that’s his side of the bed. He always sleeps there. He opts for it, because if anyone was to break in/ disturb you both; the first thing they’d be met with is his angry fucking grumpy face.

·         Two things about Scorpion; he doesn’t like to be woke up early, and he sure as hell doesn’t want you put in danger.

·         He’s prepared for this though, he’s practised it numerous times. So, you’re in good hands.

·         He’ll very carefully nudge you over, before tucking you back in. He doesn’t want to wake you, so he will take is time, no matter how tired he is.

·         He’ll also stop on occasion when you make a noise, admiring how adorable you are, so pure and angelic when you’re asleep.

·         Once he gets into bed, he’s gotta brush his hair and re-tie it back up first, he’ll climb into bed. Lay on his back and await you to scoot over and lay on his chest. He’s smiling to himself as you do it.

·         He loves the little things in life. And he will appreciate it as much as possible; he knows all too well; how uncertain life can be and how it can change within the blink of an eye.

  Raiden;

·         He doesn’t really have a side of the bed. He will sleep on either side. The concept of having a separate side of the bed to sleep on; is a rather strange concept to him, one he cannot wrap his head around.

·         So, when he comes back and finds you fast asleep on the side he usually has to sleep on, he just kind of stares for a moment. Observing as you sleep so soundly.

·         He hates to leave you, but he knows he has to, he’s a god and has to babysit the whole of Earthrealm essentially.

·         He wonders if you’re sleeping on the side you designated for him, if you miss him and wish he was there? Or if it’s to do with how you always sleep curled up next to him.

·         Either way, he does not want to disturb you. He knows how Mortals, and even gods, can get cranky and moody when they’ve not had sleep.

·         He’ll debate moving you, but he knows there is still a chance of waking you, something he doesn’t wish to do.

·         So he instead opts to go onto ‘your side’ a bed is a bed after all. He’ll slip under the covers, prop himself up on his elbow and watch as you slowly dream. Making some adorable noises.

·         Mortals fascinate him. You fascinate him more, how one Mortal could hold his heart and soul in their hands. He loves you.

·         He’ll eventually fall asleep, timing his breathing with yours, being in complete synch with you.

Johnny Cage;

·         Oh, not a fucking again. Is his reaction at first.

·         His side of the bed is special to him, its sacred ground for him to rest his head. He’s got the pillows just right, its close enough to both the window and the radiator, as well as being close to the air con for summer. Perfect.

·         And you, you’ve migrated over to his side. He’ll smile, all of his fake anger is playful after all. You do look pretty sweet, laid there, waiting for him to return from filming. Bless you.

·         He thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world, money couldn’t buy any of this, even if you do sleep on his side.

·         He’ll try and roll you over, he tries not to wake you up, but he accidentally will.

·         He’ll apologise profusely, he didn’t mean to wake you, but he’ll remind you that you are on his side.

·         But If you missed him THAT much, he can forgive you, I mean, he’d miss himself if he could. In fact, he sometimes does.

·         And because he woke you up, accidentally, he will tell you to go back to sleep, putting the cover back on you.

·         Sliding in on your side, after asking you to pass his BB cream, his night cream, his anti-wrinkle cream. All of his skin care stuff. You will debate just moving over, but his side is so much softer for some reason.

·         You actually wonder if he hired someone to break the pillows in and mould the mattress to him.

·         He’ll pull you onto his chest, after his long drawn out night ritual, that involves him tweeting goodnight. He’ll stroke your hair and say sorry once more. He knows you’ll always sleep on his side, but when you turn into this much of a cuddle bug after you wake, he really cannot complain.

Erron Black;

·         He is tired. Boy has this Cowboy had his last square dance of the night. Kano ran him ragged on that mission, Kabal was just a pure shit-lord, not shutting the fuck up. He’s tired and wants to sleep.

·         He’ll try and be quiet, but getting into bed, is his main focus. He’ll have stripped off and shed his clothing in the hallway. Hell, no he isn’t bothered about the mess. He’ll clean it in the morning.

·         All he can think of is bed, you and that hot water bottle you always sleep with. It’s all he could think about. The thought drowned out Kano being disgusting and Kabal constantly been a walking meme.

·         He’ll throw open the door, cringing as it bounces against the wall. He’ll close his eyes, wincing at the thought of you waking up. He’ll mutter a swear before saying ‘Sorry Darlin’. That’s when he sees you.

·         Curled up on his usual side of the bed. The one where he keeps his whisky tumblr for a late-night stipple

·         He’ll smile softly and shake his head. This is a regular occurrence for when he’s away. It means you’ve been missing him.

·  ��      He encourages you to do this. He’ll even spray his cologne on the pillowcase before he leaves, in the hopes you’ll migrate over to his side. Just so he can come home and find you like this.

·         Face of an angel, with the occasional snore/snort. You’re looking so peaceful. It’s just an excuse for him to get into bed and spoon you.

·         He’ll quickly get into bed, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you in close and falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

·         Totally worth the shit-storm of a day he’s had.

Kano;

·         If he comes home, he’d probably use an air horn to wake you up. He’s a shit person. A fucking shit person.

·         Would you even want to sleep on his side of the bed? It probably smells like something curled up and died and now its rotten.

·         Would you even want to sleep in his bed?! The sheets probably haven’t been changed since last Christmas.

·         Don’t fucking do it. Get yourself a Kabal or Erron. They’ll appreciate you sleeping on their side.

[joanofarchetype]

A Connecticut Yankee...a kid...that's all well and good but we really don't talk enough about the werewolf in King Arthur's court

This is not a shitpost — in Le Morte D'Arthur, Sir Thomas Malory makes mention of "Sir Marrok, the good knight that was betrayed with his wyf, for she made hym seven yere a wer-wolf". Of course, Malory lifted the tale of the werewolf knight straight outta "Bisclavret," which is one of the Twelve Lais of Marie de France. And it is...wild. There's also "Melion," an anonymous Breton lai which along with "Biclarel" is believed to have evolved from the same source as "Bisclavret". In this post we're gonna refer to the protagonist as the "knight" or the "wolf-knight" and tell a somewhat composite tale.

(A note: this takes place well before commonly established werewolf lore, which crystallized thanks to Universal's The Wolf Man. Curt Siodmak wrote all that stuff about the full moon and silver bullets in 1941 so well that our common imagination accepted it as ancient fact.)

So anyway our guy is a knight who disappears for a couple nights a week and his wife is like ?????? dude ??????? where ??? do you ???? go ??????

And my dude is like "babe I love you but I can't tell you because you won't look at me the same" and she's like "I am your wIFE you better tell me right quick or otherwise have a good nose for almonds in your oatmeal" (jk she doesn't say that because if she did he might've gotten a little foreshadowing of her treachery, but alas, our man was a sucker)

So the knight tells her he's a werewolf, and on the nights he disappears he's wolfing around the countryside and his wife is like !!!!!!!!!! on the inside but makes sure her face is only 🤔 on the outside

(Mind you, Marie de France goes into how the wife is grossed out because she shared her marriage bed with a beast, which has some interesting implications but we'll get to those later)

She starts digging about his transformation until he explains how in order to return to his human shape, he *needs* to put his human clothes back on or else he'll be stuck as a wolf, at which point wifey is 👀👀👀👀

Wifey's like, "but if ur in wolf form, how do u remember where u put ur clothes lol" and the knight's like, "no no, I retain my human mind even in wolf form and besides, I always put them under this one rock outside this cave"

now bear in mind he's never been able to talk about this to anyone so he's pouring his heart out about his deepest secret which he kept even from his wife & I know we're all pretty used to medieval repression but imagine how it must have felt to share this secret at long last 😥

So to recap:

knight: 🤵🏻🛡🐾🌕🐺🤫😅😍♥️💐 wifey: 👰🏼💭🤢🤔👀🧐💡💡👔💍🔪🔪🔪

Our knight is like "yeah so I was born this way and it's just a part of who I am and whew it's kind of a relief to finally be talking about it with someone"

Wifey nods along 🤔🤔🤔 because she's had a💡moment and is 🍳 up a plan...

so the knight has unleashed (pun intended) his secret for the first time in this life and is feeling just dandy, but what he doesn't know is his wife is already plotting his downfall with her...LOVER (dun dun dunnn)

wifey & her secret lover steal the knight's clothes when he's transformed, essentially trapping him in wolf form, get him declared dead in absentia, marry each other & take over his lands

and the royal court goes for this because at this point the whole kingdom knows about the knight's habit of disappearing for days at a time (because medieval nobles are messy gossipy bitches who live for that drama) so they just assume he abandoned her

*~*ONE YEAR LATER*~* (or if you're Malory, *~*SEVEN YEARS LATER*~*)

the king & hunting party corner the wolf-knight in the woods. knight is overwhelmed at the sight of his monarch & runs up to what for all he knows might be his oblivion to kiss king's feet at which point king's like, "THAT'S NO ORDINARY WOLF. HE SHALL JOIN MY COURT IMMEDIATELY."

the wolf-knight goes to live at court where he's basically regarded as a knight (so the takeaway from this part of the lai is that a literal wild animal had a better chance of becoming a knight in ye olden days than a peasant or a woman but I digress)

anyway so there's a celebration at court and who comes to the party but the ex-wifey's new husband, now a baron. understandably, the wolf-knight does NOT react well and attacks him, and the reaction of everyone at court at this near-mauling isn't to say "whoa whoa maybe bringing a wolf to court was a bad idea" but rather "huh, this wolf has never been hostile towards a human before so obviously this guy must've personally wronged him." which is...progressive.

so the new husband/baron/co-conspirator is all "wtf keep it away from me" and the king is like "idk man, what were you wearing? maybe you smelled like royal beef jerky at the time. seems like you were asking for it"

king & the other barons take wolf-knight to the new baron's property. they just need to figure out what's going on because they're not ready to take sir wolf to his final veterinary visit, u feel? they're attached. now get ready for this next part because it's a doozy.

ex-wifey hears about the king's visit so she's waiting with gifts & cakes & shit. the wolf-knight sees her & immediately BITES OFF HER NOSE & he bites it so good her progeny can feel it & henceforth all her descendants are — I SHIT YOU NOT — born noseless. talk about losing face.

under questioning (*cough cough* torture *cough*) the wife admits to her crimes & yields the stolen clothing, which they put in front of the wolf & he just stares at them until they realize "wow yeah sorry dude our bad" and leave the room to give him privacy

when they see the wolf-knight again he's in his human form and in Marie de France's "Bisclavret" it's expressly written that the king embraces him in the bedchamber and gives him "many kisses" (hashtag heterosexual friends doing heterosexual things)

the king restores the wolf-knight's lands and ex-wifey has to live with her ex-baron in exile, forever marked for her betrayal. some real Mark of Cain shit. (obviously this lai has a lot to say about spousal dissatisfaction but that’s another day’s dissertation)

the wolf-knight (Bisclavret, or Melion, or Marrok, or Sir Wolf or whatever you fancy calling him) not only regains his good name, but also the support of a court which now knows his secret dual nature.

something to be hated or feared, only understood and accepted. no one at court shuns him once the secret's out & no one tries to change or "heal" him of his lycanthropy.

remember when I said we'd come back to the wife's reaction? in "Bisclavret" Marie de France specifically states that upon finding out his secret, the wife no longer wishes to "lie beside him." let's unpack that a bit by exploring similar themes across folklore.

the marriage bed serves as a common motif in tales of animal transformation. ex: in "Beauty and the Beast," the protagonist has to overcome her revulsion towards her suitor's ostensible monstrosity before she can accept his marriage proposal. traditionally these stories with mysterious, beastly husbands who are secretly a true catch serve as an allegory for arranged marriage, designed to help young women process their anxieties about being passed from their father's house to that of a strange new husband.

(we should differentiate these tales from those of an ostensibly appropriate groom who turns out to be a monster in disguise such as "Bluebeard," "Mr. Fox," and "The Robber-Bridegroom," as those deserve a detailed thread of their own but also provide good thematic contrast here)

more often the Beast is kind, patient & gives Beauty the time she needs to the detriment of his own freedom from the curse. once the protagonist gets over her anxiety, she ceases to perceive her groom as just a hulking hairy beast and he can take the shape of a prince at last.

circling back to wolves! in most lore both ancient and modern, werewolves represent something uncontrollable; an animalistic second nature which threatens to literally tear through our well-mannered social façade. "Bisclavret" and its various incarnations don't do that.

if you read "Bisclavret" under a queer critical lens, you can interpret the knight as bisexual; a husband has a secret duality to his nature which he is unable to express in their current social order. significantly, he is born with his lycanthropy rather than being afflicted by the sudden, violent means through which most fictional werewolves are afflicted. it's a part of who he is, and it requires no further explanation or cure.

the wolf-knight finds freedom rather than shame in his lycanthropy, and as a result maintains both honor and control while in wolf form. unlike other famous werewolves, he doesn't function as an expression of tension between the id and the superego.

considering how often wolves are used to imply sexual violence (see also: "Little Red Riding Hood" or its medieval predecessor, "The Grandmother's Tale") this would be a fairly positive portrayal of a bisexual man.

however, his wife doesn't see it that way and is repulsed at the thought of sleeping with him again, so she commits adultery and conspires against him. so really, the crimes in "Bisclavret" have a lot to do with sex, just not sexual violence.

the king's attachment to the wolf & the way he embraces the knight can easily be read as homoerotic. there's absolutely an argument to be made about the normalization of homosocial behavior & male kinship across eras but...two things can be true. either interpretation is valid.

so what we have is a werewolf protagonist — not a villain or tortured anti-hero but an honorable man who isn't made to shed his lycanthropy at the end of the tale (tail). rather, he is accepted by his contemporaries and given a place in society to live as he truly is/ROLL CREDITS

[turtle-steverogers]

I can’t write for shit but I know you are really talented ,so what about an angst about Spot going to war and he doesn’t make it back and Race and their 1 year old son go to visit his grave and talk to him? Idk you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to but I thought it was a really cool idea

hi! so this is a pretty on brand prompt (especially for a certain upcoming Thing, but...,,.,) but anyway yeah here’s a fic. hope i did your idea some justice!

warnings: lots of talk of death, but nothing graphic.  my shitty, caffeine muddled writing (truly, not my best work, sorry)

ship: sprace

word count: 1529

editing: nein

Just Out of Reach

“Aye, Sergeant, need some water up there?”

“Yeah, thanks man.”

A water bottle is passed up to Spot, and he takes it, taking one hand off the M2 machine gun that’s deadbolted down in front of him and using his teeth to unscrew the cap.  He hadn’t realized how goddamn thirsty he’d been, but it’s fairly easy and not at all uncommon to lose touch with yourself during the methodical cycle of a mission.  

Really, it’s just reconnaissance.  Mapping out the desolate land that surrounds base- cataloguing the unknowns and the possible threats.  It’s the simple stuff.  The required bits that make the more strategic missions possible.  But they still take long as hell and Spot’s willing to bet that he’s sweat through his fatigues by now as he bakes in the desert sun.  His helmet is scratchy and the army-issued goggles are digging into his skull, squeezing his brain and making his head throb.  The water helps a bit.

His vehicle is at the front of the convoy, and somehow, he found himself perched in the turret, calculating gaze scanning around for anything amiss.  They near an Iraqi village, vacated looking buildings lining either side of the sandy, dirt road.

Spot thinks he sees a few windows shutter closed and when he looks to his left, there’s a little girl (she can’t be more than five.  Christ)  sitting on her stoop, knees pulled up to her chest.  She’s staring at the convoy, eyes wide and fearful and fingers plugged into her ears.  Spot feels a pang of...of something.  Guilt, maybe.  Sympathy.

Really, none of these people asked for this.  They never wanted big, scary men in big, scary vehicles shouting out foreign remarks and invading their space- their homes.  

Spot forces his gaze back to the front, willing himself to focus back on the task at hand.  But he can’t help his mind wandering back to that little girl.  There was something about her.  The innocence, maybe.  The simplistic look of discernable fear in the face of something scary.

He thinks of Teddy.

His son’s own wide, brown eyes and chubby, five year old cheeks.  Really, they’re not so different- that girl and Teddy.  They’re lives are so drastically diverse from one another, but they share that same, innate naivete.  The all prevailing look of curiosity that only kids can convey.

Spot misses Teddy.

Granted, he always misses him and Race.  The feeling isn’t mutually exclusive to any one moment, but sometimes the ache will grow into more of a pain, gripping his chest with longing to kiss his husband and hug his son.  Maybe dig his fingers into Teddy’s sides as he picks him up and swings him, planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek.  It’s a foolproof way to make him laugh.  And if Race is there, he’ll laugh too.  There are some things in life he can count on to be constant, and his family is one of them.

He comes back to himself as he nears a stoplight and suddenly, something in the world seems wrong.  He’s just about to secure himself around the gun when there’s a shout from down below and then the humvee is jerkily rolling to a stop and that’s when Spot sees the wire and that can only mean someone’s going to die if they don’t fucking stop right fucking now and--

Nothing.

-

“Papa, can we go see Daddy today?”

Race freezes halfway through screwing the cap off a carton of milk.  He turns to look at his son and finds him staring at him in all his six and a half year old glory.  His hair is a mess of bedhead and sleep and even though Race had gotten him up and dressed in a decent amount of time for a Saturday, he still looks rumpled.  But that’s just how kids are, Race guesses.

It had been a year since Race’s life took a tumble into the realm of his worst nightmare.  A year since Lieutenant Kelly and Sergeant Jacobs had shown up on his doorstep, clad in Army Service Uniforms and wearing twin, somber looks. 

It hadn’t taken long for Race to piece together why they were there.

That day was still hazy, a jumbled mix of numb shock and things like, “we regret to inform you” and “killed in action” and then there was Teddy pulling at his pant leg and asking him with those wide goddamn eyes why “guys dressed like Daddy” were there and Race didn’t know how to tell him that Daddy’s gone, because how the hell do you explain that to a five year old and he wasn’t equipped to deal with something like this and he still isn’t and-

Yeah.  A nightmare.

Race still isn’t sure if Teddy knows exactly what happened.  He seems to understand that Spot is gone and that fundamentally, he isn’t coming back, but he doesn’t think Teddy understands death yet.  The finality of it- the weight behind the concept.  

It was inexplicably haunting to see Teddy not crying at Spot’s funeral.  Race was crying.  Hell, Race was a mess.  It was so bad that Albert had to take over his eulogy and Jojo had to watch Teddy for a few minutes while he lost his shit in the bathroom.

But Teddy hadn’t cried.  He’d just clung to Race with a tight grip and wide, bewildered eyes, not saying a word.  

“Sure, bud,” Race says, shaking himself and pouring the milk into Teddy’s bowl of Lucky Charms, “we can go see Daddy.”

He takes Teddy along to Spot’s grave fairly often, but he never really knows how much of it he processes.  Like at the funeral, he’s always quiet and subdued when they go, never really saying anything.  Just sitting in Race’s lap, head bent into the crook of his neck as he stares at the headstone.  

“Yay!” Teddy bounces a little in his seat, grinning as Race sets his breakfast in front of him, “I want to tell him about my dance recital!”

Something in Race’s chest cracks open, making him feel simultaneously warm and cold and entirely overwhelmed. 

On their way to the cemetery later, they pass a man selling custom bouquets on the street.  Brilliant mixes of orchids and roses, gardenias and anemones, bleeding color into the cold grey of winter, and when Teddy sees them and turns that pleading look on Race, well, who is he to say no?

-

“Hi, Daddy!”

For once, Race stays a little off to the side, watching his son sit cross legged in front of Spot’s grave.  He’s talking, words spilling out at about a mile a minute, but Race tunes them out.  This is their private moment and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that.  

“I kinda wish you coulda seen it, but…” Teddy shrugs, mouth grimacing in a way that’s so strikingly Spot that Race has to close his eyes for a moment, “That’s okay.  I know you woulda come if you coulda.”

And, well, ouch.

“Anyway, I brought my scarf for you, Daddy,” Race opens his eyes to see Teddy carefully wrapping his little Thomas the Tank Engine scarf around the headstone, just over where he’d placed the flowers they picked up earlier, “‘Cause it’s getting cold and Papa always tells me that scarves help make you super warm.”

Race has to bite his lip to keep from crying or doing something stupid to ruin his son’s moment and, like, breakdown in front of him.

“Anyway, I’ll let you talk to Papa now, ‘cause I know he always likes to talk to you a little,” He smacks a kiss onto his palm and presses it to Spot’s engraved name, “Bye bye, Daddy, I love you.”

When he turns to look at Race, he’s smiling.  It’s big and unyielding and Race fucking melts, because this is all he really wants.  Sure, when Teddy gets older, Spot’s absence will ring loud and daunting, but hell, if he can have any ounce of peace with it then, well, Race...Race is fucking ecstatic.  He can handle this. 

“Your turn, Papa!” Teddy says, beckoning Race to sit down and climbing into his lap when he does.

“Thanks, little man,” Race hugs Teddy close, “Did you have a good time talking to Daddy?”

“Uh huh,” Teddy says, squirming a little in Race’s tight hold, “I know he was listening super good, I could feel it.”

Race swallows, “Oh yeah?” Teddy nods, “I’m super glad, Teds.”

And maybe, really, that’s what this is about.  Spot’s death was a curveball thrown with the wrong hand, jarring a perceived reality and shifting everything Race had known a little too far to the left.  And no, it isn’t okay.  Maybe it’ll never be okay, but it doesn’t have to be.  Spot’s still there, lingering somewhere in their hearts and made real by his memory- their memories of him.  He’s still palpable, still reachable, and if Teddy can feel it, maybe Race can too.

Race takes a breath, fortifying and fond, then smiles.  It doesn’t feel so strained and Race feels just that much lighter when he clears his throat.

“Hey, Spottie…”

-

it wasn’t very good don’t clown me please my brain said ‘sorry bud’ today

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @getchapapes @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable 

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @technically-whizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @localfakeitalian @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

@thomasbeingthomas

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@snakesarenonexistent 

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing 

@kpop-kk

@mentallytiredgoat

@yxseminx

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen 

@stopthe-presses

@elmers-half-a-cup

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@spot-me50-papes

@honeynutpoptarts

@newsies-ensemble

@bennie-badeend 

@auspicioustarantula 

@faithmil 

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@bxnesof92

@backgroundnewsies

@sure-as-a-star

@skybert-daherty 

@eveningpaper

@malex-13

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@heart-a-n-o-n

@bitching-newsboys

@orollyitsracetrackhiggins

@joshuaburrageenthusiast

@random-superhero-stuff

@awkwardstranger98

@falling-out-trees-101

@modern-race-owns-airpods

@asphodelnerd

@i-dont-do-sadness

@rockyroad236

@sirgrahamcracker

@godhatesjordan

@thats-our-que-boys

@bastille-smedry

@nerdsies

@toss-me-a-pape

@wolfbutterfly42

@revolutioninthesewers

@spot-the-brooklyn-pirate

@aintnosleevesinbrooklyn

[imjustkindafloating]

Starry Eyed Boy, Part 3

Summary:  He already asked to leave, so he has to stick by his decision.  Later he’d find out, it wasn’t really that hard to leave.  

Pairings: Pre-Romantic Analogical / Eventual Analogical

Word Count: 1,033

Warnings: none that i can think of! lmk if i need to add any!

Notes: this is probably the last update for a little while (at most a week), as i’m in the process of moving!  and i’d like to thank everyone that has liked or commented or reblogged or asked to be on the taglist!! it makes writing feel worth it! (and yes more people can ask to be on the taglist, but please PM or ask!!)

Taglist: @shitpost-sides @aleiimm @rainbowbowtie @hikarisakurariver @singularthoughtofstatic

     Virgil had asked to leave already, so there's no backing out now... right?  Right.  He made his decision.  In all honesty, he was terrified.  Any moment now Logan would be there to pick him up.  To take him away from everything he’d ever known.  Maybe he was putting to much trust in a stranger.  No, that couldn't be right either.  Logan had a presence to him, it made Virgil feel safe.  Virgil chalked it up to being near someone that wasn’t entirely human.  Or human at all for that matter.

     Virgil took a deep breath and shoved the last of his clothes into his suitcase.  It was only a two week trip to Artesk (again, it is thousands of lightyears away, Virgil couldn’t expect much, could he?) a and Logan had already told him he needn’t bring more clothes than necessary, but Virgil did it anyways.  Virgil waited exactly a minute and forty-five seconds before he heard a doorbell ring.  

     When Virgil opened the door the first thing he saw was dark blue and grey.  Virgil blinked before focusing on the other man.  It was definitely Logan, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, but instead of a dark shirt and blue necktie, Logan was wearing what looked like a tuxedo.  A dark blue button-up and grey overcoat and pants.  The sight made Virgil's mouth go a bit dry.

    “Are you ready to leave?”  Logan asked, and if Virgil was paying any attention at all, he would’ve noticed the hint of smugness behind Logan's words.

---

     Now, this is something Virgil was definitely not expecting.  A two-hour drive into the middle of nowhere, into a golden wheat field, and nothing else in sight.  Even Logan, a man not intuned with emotions much, could see the cogs in Virgil's head.  Logan only took the bags Virgil had put in the trunk and started walking through the field.  The sun was setting, and all Virgil could do was stare.  Logan's silhouette made his heart stutter in his chest and Virgil swore he could hear singing in the distance, it was only the wind.  Ever so gentle, it flew through Virgil's hair, the same wisp of air flowing between the stalks of wheat and pushing past Logan.  A sort of soft feeling settled in Virgil's bones and before he knew what he was doing he was walking, no, running towards Logan to catch up.  When Virgil showed up in Logan's peripheral vision, Logan turned his head towards him.  With an infinitesimal smile and a tiny nod, they settled into a comfortable quiet.  Virgil even had the courage, at one point, to take one of his bags back from Logan.  

     A twenty-minute walk later and Logan randomly stopped in his tracks.  He held out his open hand (thanks to Virgil), the air wobbled a moment before the empty field had a high-tech spaceship before Virgil's eyes.  A door slides open and Logan walks in.  Virgil can only follow behind.

     What Virgil sees inside the ship is also not what he expected to see.  Dark brown wooden floors and comfortable seating lined with soft, white, fur.  Yellow light showed from the lights on the walls.  Not cold and metal, no bright L.E.D. lights that hurt Virgil's eyes.  Virgil only snapped back into reality when he heard an unfamiliar whoosh sound.  Logan was watching Virgil with an intent yet analyzing gaze.

    “Would you like to see your sleeping quarters?”  Logan asked, his almost mechanical voice prominent again.  Virgil nodded.  

     Virgil watched as Logan walked down a short hallway, hardwood floors matching those of the entrance.  Dark walls and yellow light too.  Logan stopped quite quickly and pressed a small button where a door handle would be.  The door slid open and Virgil was met with a room that looked quite... homely.

    “I hope this is adequate.  Emile wanted me to depart as soon as he picked up on your signal, so we got the small-sized A120.”  Logan explained, setting down Virgil’s bag.  Virgil set down the other one he had too.  

    “I like it... a lot actually,”  Virgil mumbled.   “How do we get there?  Like do you drive this thing or something?”  Virgil asked before he could think about it.  His eyes widened.  “Sorry if that's rude or something I’m- I'm just curious.”

    “Being curious is nothing to be ashamed of.  I’d rather someone be overly curious than boring.”  Logan said before continuing.  “And no, I don’t drive this, necessarily.  I am trained in flight but an A120 has one of the best autopilots in the Milkyway.  I will explain more later but you need rest.  When you wake up, I will show you around more.”  Logan said.  Virgil sent him a small smile as he left.  Virgil heard the whoosh of the door opening and closing once again.  Once gone, Virgil took in what the bed looked like.  He walked over to it and pressed his hand firmly against it.  It sunk in without to much pressure, but not too little.  The sheets felt soft yet silky and even though they were white, they were spotless.  Virgil smiled a bit and went to his bags to get pajamas.  Once dressed and comfortable, Virgil laid down.  And if he couldn’t figure out how to turn off the lights, that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting a good night's rest.  He pulled the blanket above his head and after two minutes, he was asleep.  

---

     Logan, in perfect and utter clarity, was a mess.  Logan knew what was happening and he knew damn well it was too early to fall for him. That shy attitude and those deep brown eyes made him weak in the knees.  When Logan heard him talk, the deep gravely voice filling his ears, it made his heart pound.  And when Logan saw the blush on Virgil's face when he saw Logan in the tuxedo, it definitely didn’t make Logan feel a small amount of smugness.

     Oh no... I’m in deep, aren’t I?  Logan thought as he reached his room.  It’s only for two weeks.  Figure out who he really is.

     Logan, in perfect and utter clarity, was a stubborn, hotheaded, smartass, Teskian.  Logan is a lot of things, but he is not stupid.

[gelo-p]

Cycling Seasons, Fresh Skies: Memories

I knew from a long time ago that if I’d ever go for a T10, this would be it. When the event was finally getting closer, early estimates told me I was 900 flames short; I’d have to buy stars for this event.

(WARNING: A rather image-heavy post)

Perhaps the moment I honestly considered T10 instead of settling for T100.

Definitely the moment I knew there was no turning back. :)))

Believe me, this was not the only purchase I made for this event.

I needed a better Challenge Live team, so I knew getting a 4* Happy Ran is required, to complete my Happy Afterglow team. I’ve never gotten any 4* Ran before, so thank god the 4* Exchange Ticket had the perfect timing.

“WAIT. YOU WERE USING A HAPPY TEAM ALL THIS TIME???”

Yep. ^^ Well, my Multi Live team was Powerful Afterglow-based, but had only 2 4-stars, sooo I knew it wouldn’t cut it.

There she is <3

I’ve always stopped at Skill Level 4, but I really had to pull out all the stops. Ran is my first Skill Level 5 member. ^^ (everyone in my CL team also received the level 5 upgrade)

Alright, let’s do this! Hey Hey Hoh~!

The event has finally begun! I initially found it amusing seeing all sorts of titles being shown off. This one in particular stood out to me. XD

(Looking back, that Sinz person would later turn out to be a serious T10 contender. I think they changed their name to Pyokun after some time)

Here’s a screenshot of a rare T5 GeLö-P. I really wanted to share this with you guys, but I figured I’d jinx myself by revealing publicly what I was trying to do. :>

(I will doubt the existence of God Almighty, but believe in being jinxed. Life is weird sometimes.)

Well, that’s the Grand Room for ya’. Meta songs all the way~

How do you even react to that?

With this. :)))

NEXT YOU’LL SAY FUEEEEE

Home Street...

Home Street.......

HEY HEY HOH~! 

The moment I ran out of large energy drinks, and had to start spending stars. </3 Small energy drinks were still reserved for moments I can afford to wait out the 30-minute refill timer.

The 5 Horsemen of the Apocalypse

My first time doing the “recover waaaaay more than 10 flames” thing

Huhehe huhehe huhehe...

I too would like some of those Afterglow pins. T_T

Baby Shak my as-

Aaaand we have a dodger, ladies and gentlemen. XD

I think this guy needs to be banned.

Home Street? Pssh, that was so yesterday. Jumpin’ is the shit now.

Ganbatte, P5.

Himari~

My 2nd encounter with Ghostkillers (who later become T12..?). He chose Senbonzakura the first time, so when he did it again, I thought I’d save it for posterity. ^^

The “I too would like to live dangerously” gang 8-)

The first time I switched away from my dua T100 titles. I figured I’d stop trying to “scare” the competition.

First time tracking T10 scores. This would later prove to be very useful in seeing if my projection will hold (although I shifted to tracking T3 - T12).

Taking a break, so I watched ads for free flames. :)))))

Moca, Ran, GeLö-P, and a weird name. Huh. Okay.

Kyu~Mai * Flower was released! Played this one on Hard.

...this one I played on Expert...

...and thank fuck I got it first try, because oh boy I’m not playing that beat map again. >_<

“Ban me if you can” ?? Why??

Aaaaand this motherfucker right here was cheating and inflating his score. I personally reported him to the game admins over on twitter, and they’ve informed me that they were already aware of this idiot. Saw him just once more after this.

Yes. That’s 91 million, 798 thousand, 346.

I actually encountered them once before this, but didn’t notice anything off about their score (was already dazed at that time). And then a discussion started over at reddit, so when I met him again, I took screenshots.

Ganbatte :))

Had time for a quick hey hey hoh spam ^^

Which day was this..? Anyway I came up with my brilliant pun. Read the comment, see if you can figure it out. :3

MocaRan and YukiLisa. Sigh. I don’t think we can be friends, P5.

:)))

Told you, Ghostkillers only pick Senbonzakura XD

Tomoe’s Birthday! ^^

Even the game won’t let you have a GF, P5. XD

HEATHCLIFF STOP PICKING BABY SHARK

(almost sure they’re famous in the competitive scene... I don’t know them tho LOL)

I woke up one morning to find there was no internet.

FUCK ME

I knew mobile data was going to result to multiple disconnects, but thank fuck I had lots of challenge points to spare. I passed the time productively, and by the time I was done, internet was back. Whew.

Rank update: currently T8. ^^

More of Ghostkillers x Senbonzakura and JFC that name tho P2

Shitpost comment XD

First time seeing 2 other T10 contenders in the same room: Itsuki and Ghostkillers.

Probably the point where I started spamming Tokimeki Poporon instead of Home Street.

Also there’s a looot of interesting names in Bandori.

As a YukiRan / MocaLisa shipper (well more of SayoLisa nowadays), it is my job to destroy players 1, 3, and 5. >:(

Wallet: IT’S NOT POSSIBLE

Me: NO, IT’S NECESSARY

...aaaaaand I immediately threw away 10k stars hoping for Megane Ran, but got shit. (This would later force me to make 2 more purchases XD Seriously though, I could have saved a lot of money with a better star purchase plan)

I got Loli Rinko tho. <3

Which day was this...? I think this was the moment I knew Ghostkillers has given up. I was laughing my ass off reading the comments. I think everyone of us was half-dead at this point. XD

And so we’re down to the final 11.

I’ve started considering the possibility at this point that I might be the final one to bow out.

OMG I CAN’T SEE PLAYER 2

BUSHIDO~!

I was feeling the despair at this point, and thus started singing Komm Susser Tod

I do mini-sprints in the morning, so I’m T6 here. I usually fall back down to ~T9 in the afternoon.

I usually level up once per event. I started this event from Rank 193. :)))

(well it was technically 192, but I was like 2 games away from leveling up)

XD

There are no experts in this room :v

Jumpin = NO FEVER, but picks meta song anyway. Okay. :v

Hey! All Random!

Game: DID SOMEONE ASK FOR A META SONG

I have a lot of friend requests at this point (probably from people seeing me on the T10 list), but I don’t have enough space to accept them all :((

Bread-themed profile!

Poppin’ Party, Puff n’ Pastry... get it?

Itsuki started spamming BOF at this point.

Doki doki~

HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME~ ♪ ♫

P1 is an IRL friend :))) I’d later tease her about how slow she is picking songs LOL

Some Initial D reference for overtaking :P Of course I was badly falling behind at this point (T9 is hella dangerous), but I had no choice but to continue to believe in the math (and that early overtaking is a bad choice).

“Early moves lets your opponents recover from mental shock.” - Ryosuke Takahashi, Initial D 3rd Stage

No seriously, that’s exactly what I was thinking of. And also “Not yet, not yet, now” from Ford v Ferrari.

P1 & P5 get married already...

FINAL NIGHT.

I’m down to T11, and everybody else already did 2.3M-sprints some hours earlier, and have considerably slowed down.

I, on the other, was about to go to sleep. Yes, I, the current T11, was about to let the others pull away. All I could do was believe in the Math at that point, because let me tell you-

I had 105k challenge points left. That’s 3.4M event points I had yet to sprint.

This was during the final morning, 9 hours before event ended. When I woke up that morning, my heart was pounding like crazy. What if everybody has pulled ahead?

When I finally checked, most of the T10′s were still in the 17M-range. Itsuki was on T10, and he was only 500k away. I knew at that point that my chances were pretty good; however, I shut up about it, set my comment to “Now Playing: Running in the 90′s”, and got to work.

There was nothing else I could to but consume all the CP I had left. No more tracking. A literal 5-hour non-stop sprint to 19.2M points. If they can still catch up even after they’ve already expended their CP yesterday, then maybe I don’t deserve this T10 after all.

All I need to do was beat one of them. It was me or them.

Holy shi-

I wasn’t out of the woods yet, had to make sure at least one of them didn’t overtake me. Of course that was more up to them, since I didn’t have any strength left (my thumb stopped working at that point, no seriously, it’s still not working properly even today). I also didn’t have any significant stars left.

I managed to sneak in a few songs, but that was it. I was done. The others managed to close the gap, but I stayed in T6.

And then the event was over.

I fucking did it.

------

I would later learn that this was the bloodiest (Challenge Live) event in the history of ENdori. In one redditor’s words, I “ ...sure picked a hell of a time to go for it.”

I had no choice. This is Megane Ran we’re talking about. <3

I had some idea tbh, because I managed to read a tweet in the middle of the event, that “this was one lit T10″. Apparently we were on track to beat the previous record-holder, which was Sayo’s Umbrella event.

I’m... really glad to have been part of this event. I feel so darn proud of myself. >:3

But I couldn’t have done it without the help of the Grand Room. Seriously, I only played in the Grand Room.

Remember this?

I don’t have (competitive) friends. :))) So thank you, all. *bow*

I’d like to thank IRL-friend otearaisu over at twitter for putting up with my excessive score projection updates. XD I have a really detailed excel sheet to check if I was on track or not, and whenever there were developments, I’d always tell him about it, even in the dead of the night. XD

------

Would I ever do this again? Probably not. This was the only event that I knew I really wanted to go for, and I don’t see that changing any time soon. Maybe I’ll get a couple of T100′s in the future, but that’s it. ^^

See you in the lobby~

[natsthinkitythinkthinkthonk]

Interview: The Two Dekus

Here’s the whole interview with both the Japanese and English voice for Izuku Midoriya (Deku).

This Anime News Network interview features the two voice actors behind Deku: Daiki Yamashita (Japanese dub) and Justin Briner (English Funimation Dub).

I just wanted to bring out this interview. But before we begin, I’m just going to say that since I watch Boku no Hero Academia subbed, I hold a bit of bias. Since I did crop a few parts out, you will find that Justin Briner might have said a few additional things in the interview, so if you want to get a few more comments from him, check out the original article! I tried to keep it even for the most part though.

I will also be including some additional posts, sources, videos, etc. of things that relate to this interview regarding the Japanese cast of My Hero Academia. I tried to limit myself to put under ten links and failed... sorry about that! Hopefully, you’ll find something you might like though!

[...] = additional words in their answer that I felt wasn’t crucial

ANN: First, thank you both for your time, I really appreciate it. When you auditioned for this, did you know what you were auditioning for, and did you know what a big deal it was?

DAIKI YAMASHITA: Yes, I was reading the manga before and I knew that this was going to be popular if it was made into an anime.

JUSTIN BRINER: Yeah, we got our hands on it a little later [...]  You can tell, spending a little bit of time with the source material, that it's something special. [...] And after I checked out that first episode I got hooked, so I figured a lot of other people did too.

Did you immediately see yourself as him?

BRINER: No, not necessarily. [...] I didn't want to get my hopes up for anything for this.

YAMASHITA: You auditioned for pretty much all the male characters?

BRINER: Yeah, Deku, Kacchan, Todoroki, Minari, Tokoyami. I wouldn't have been good as many of them.

YAMASHITA: You tried out for so many characters.

BRINER: Yes, uh uh. I just really wanted to be a part of it, it seemed like something special to me.

Now that you're in season 3 and you did the movie, how has your relationship with Deku changed since the beginning? Do you feel like you play him differently now as his character has changed?

YAMASHITA: I think the mental part of it has helped me. At the beginning of the show, Deku seemed to be very weak. Very soft. You feel like “oh, is he okay? Is he gonna make it?” as a viewer, you see that. But once he inherits the power from All Might, the mental part of his character, he's become so strong. As I play him more and more as the seasons went on, I try to gain that strength as well for myself. So when I play against the strong villains, in my acting I try not to back down – I try to convey that mental strength in my acting as well.

BRINER: It's essentially the same answer here. [...]He started out very weak and insecure. [...]you can tell that he's gaining confidence. [...] Just being able to incorporate a little more confidence, a little more heroism every time, that's part of Deku's growing up.

Do you read ahead in the manga? And if so, does it help you prepare emotionally for what's coming?

YAMASHITA: Yes I do, I do. I read ahead and then I regret reading ahead. I was like “All Might—ohhhh, no.” So when I read that All Might and All For One battle in the manga, I was like “oh my gosh, I saw it, I didn't want to see it… I regret it.” It was shocking to me, before I even received the script.

BRINER: Same. I do read the manga, and I feel like I'm pleasantly surprised by every new development. It's so smartly written that I can't find myself not reading it every week.

Do you have a personal favorite scene, or a scene that meant the most to you personally from this show? Or the film?

YAMASHITA: There's so many. It's very hard to choose one scene, but in particular the second episode, where All Might tells him “you can be a hero.” That scene, along with the most recent scene when All Might points to Deku on TV and says “you're the next.” Those two scenes are very, very memorable. For me, myself, as well as for Deku as a character, those two scenes are very pivotal moments for the character, and very important to both myself and Deku as a character. And I think that those two lines and those two scenes are going to stay with Deku forever, and that's going to become a core of his becoming a hero in the future.

BRINER: I love that. [...] there's a moment in the sports festival when Deku and Todoroki are fighting against each other, and in the middle of the fighting he says something to the effect, to Todoroki, of “it's yours, it's your quirk, not his.” That's such a wonderful moment of—because Deku isn't the most confident person of all time. His quirk isn't even necessarily his own, but he's learning to live with it and make it his own in his own way. So to be able to instil what little confidence that he's gained to a friend in need is really beautiful to me, I think.

Deku gets into some guttural screaming, just world-class screaming. How do you prepare for that? Do you have to recover from it?

YAMASHITA: I eat a lot to prepare. I don't do anything particularly to protect my voice, but I feel like if I don't do anything then my throat is gonna get stronger. Like, if you do more—so essentially for me, it's eat whatever I want when I want and sleep when I want.

BRINER: Yes!

So you're playing the main character in a giant, hit show that could potentially run years and years and years and years and years. Do you feel like you're prepared for that, and do you see yourself still relishing the role, if, say, a decade from now you're still playing Deku?

YAMASHITA: Yes. In a narration, where Deku says “this is the story of me becoming the best hero.” So I would like to see him become the best hero. I would like to see that, and I would like to continue playing him as he becomes a hero. So I'll try not to die in the middle, in the process. I might be a grandpa by the end, but I would like to perform this character until he becomes the best hero that he can be.

BRINER: I mean yes, I love Deku, I love the source material so much and so dearly that I'd love to be a part of it for as long as I can. It really means a lot to me that way.

As a brief follow-up, when you were starting your career, did you ever have the aspiration to be like “well, I basically want to be Goku in a series that's as big as Dragon Ball.” You're the Goku of this show. Did you ever see yourself in this position? And was that ever your aspiration?

YAMASHITA: Yes. When I started out, yes that was my hope that I would be able to encounter roles like this. I think that it honestly takes a miracle for this type of encounter to happen, to get a role that can be in a long-running show, and something like My Hero Academia is very, very rare. So I'm very grateful for the opportunity, and I feel like, as I said before, I'd like to stay with it until Deku becomes the best hero that he can be. When he becomes that hero, maybe that's the time that my life ends. That's how I feel, almost. So I would like to continue playing and breathe life into this character until he does, so…

BRINER: All I've ever known that I wanted to do was act or perform in some capacity. I never knew exactly what avenue that would be. But the world of anime has always been something that's been very important to me growing up. I watched Dragon Ball Z and Sailor Moon before I knew what anime was. It was just another cartoon that I would rush home after school to watch. To be part of something so pivotal and so prescient, especially nowadays, is really special in that way. [...]to be a part of it now is really incredible. Because it feels like I'm working my hardest to be a part of something that's much bigger than me. And I get a lot of satisfaction out of doing my part in that.

All right, I've got two short ones left. One, if you were playing any character in the show that was not Deku, who would you want to play?

YAMASHITA: I can't think of anybody else but Deku to play.

Fair enough.

BRINER: True, I love Deku too. If you make me answer, Froppy.

Perfect!

YAMASHITA: Kero Kero.

BRINER: Kero!

YAMASHITA: Maybe like a villain. One of the villains.

Last question. In your heart, who do you think Deku should wind up with in the show? As a romantic partner.

YAMASHITA: As far as I can tell for now, just by reading the manga and doing three seasons, it looks like Uraraka is very high on his list. But in the movie… I feel (original character from the My Hero Academia film) Melissa Shield has gained… she climbed up the ladder towards the top, the top of the list. So when you think about the future development of the story, there might be a chance that Melissa-chan comes back. In that case, there might be a battle between Uraraka Ochako and Melissa!

BRINER: [...] I feel like Uraraka is… they're just meant to be, somehow. Let me just introduce Tsuyu into the mix, Froppy. I don't know, I don't know.

It's a good pick. It's a good pick.

YAMASHITA: Isn't it that you like that character? Do you just like her—

BRINER: Uhhhh, maybe?

Everyone likes that character!

YAMASHITA: I think it's your taste!

Tsuyu Is Popular With Everyone [video below]

“Who is Best Girl?” [Cast Answer]

BNHA Cast Interview (Daiki Yamashita, Nobuhiko Okamoto, Masuda Toshiki) - Relationship between the characters

Cast Imitating Their Characters

Seiyuu Comic (Daiki Yamashita, Nobuhiko Okamoto, Yuuki Kaji, and Kouki Uchiyama) with additional details

Ayane Sakura’s Nickname Origins

Yuuki Kaji Interview on Shouto Todoroki Nobuhiko Okamoto Interview on Katsuki Bakugou Junichi Suwabe Interview on Shouta Aizawa

BNHA Movie Special Event Additional Cast Images

Recording Bakugou - Nobuhiko Okamoto

If you like content like this, I recommend checking out my spam blog! It’s where I post my voice actor, shitpost, fanart, and just about everything else!

[negasonicimagines]

If You Love Someone

THE BITCH IS BACK!!! 

Hey guys, I’m so sorry that I haven’t posted a new imagine in so, so long! Hopefully this makes up for it! I’ll try to get more requests out, soon, I promise!

As you can see, the title is this song by The Veronicas. 

The request I wrote this from is from @wafflesnunicorns and it goes as follows:  “What up dude! long time no ask!! But um do u think u can write a fic where theyve been dating but Eli hasnt quite been able to express her feelings to yn. then when yn is called on a mission Eli cant stop thinkin about her n seein her n SMELLIN her(weird right?)when yn FINALLY gets back Eli just wordlessly bearhugs, sniffs herthen says," you smellgood I love you" Or something awkward and abrupt like that. N yn is blushing and is all like "thanks...I guess..."Im excited to read it!love you!😄! ❤️”

I think I can. You tell me. Thanks so much for the request, sweetheart! 

Ellie hadn’t been dating you for that long, but she was head over heels. It’s hard, though, to express that. She only really feels comfortable expressing anger, annoyance. Rolling her eyes at your sweet words but squeezing your hand tighter, looking down so no one sees her blush. It makes her feel bad to watch your face fall when you think she doesn’t approve, but she tries to make it up to you in little ways, picking pretty wildflowers for you when she sees them and sending you songs that remind her of you.

She comes from photography club to your shared dorm, so the two of you can walk to dinner together, and she finds you packing a bag.

“Where are you going?” It comes out more rude than it should, her brain stopping her from sounding too attached, too clingy, too in love.

“Mission!” You reply cheerily. “Undercover. Gotta join the Brotherhood and see what their next move is.”

“The Brotherhood?!” Ellie squeaks, there was no hiding her worry with that one.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, isn’t it?” you tease her, unsure of the emotion you’re seeing in her reaction.

“It is,” Ellie admits. “Uh, how long?”

“I don’t know. Couple weeks, maybe a month, maybe longer. Depends on how long it takes to earn their trust and find out their next step or two,” you explain, looking too okay with this. Did you not feel the same connection to Ellie, the same need to be around her?

Ellie’s breath halts. A month without you? Possibly longer?

“That’s a while.”

“I guess,” you reply, and the expression that flickers across your face helps her realize what’s going on.

She wishes her mouth would move, to tell you she’ll miss you. That she loves you, too. To tell you that she’s sorry that you don’t know those things for sure.

“We’re gonna be late for dinner,” she instead tells you.

“It’s that time already?” You ask, and she nods curtly.

You walk to dinner together in awkward silence, sitting across from each other while you eat but avoiding eye contact.

On the day you left, you didn’t even look like you. Your hair was styled differently, your makeup (if you wear it) making you appear almost like a stranger. Your clothes were closer in genre to hers, your face darkened in expression to add to the betrayed character you portray.

“I hate you, Charles Xavier!” You shout at the top of your lungs, stomping out of the mansion with bags on your shoulders. Ellie stares out the front door what feels like forever, until a gloved hand she faintly recognizes as Anna’s pulls her further in the house, another student closing the door behind you as you disappear down the driveway, angry swagger still in motion.

I love you. But the words don’t come out.

A few days later, Xavier informs the school of a planned attack from the Brotherhood. After, Ellie slinks over to his chair, moving from shadow to shadow. She’s isolated herself even further, rarely looking up from her phone.

“Our correspondence is limited, Miss Phimister,” Charles tells her before she can even ask. “But Y/N told me to tell you they love you.”

Somehow, that makes it worse. She didn’t say those words to you when she had the opportunity, and now she may never get to. But, hey, at least those would your last words to her?

No! They can’t be. They won’t. Ellie has to tell you.

She trains non-stop over the weeks, for the fight. Just because the school knew of the attack, didn’t meant that it wasn’t still going to happen. The plan was that someone would pretend to knock you out, and they’d take you back. It couldn’t be her, she wouldn’t be able to fake hatred for you.

In the nights, she doesn’t sleep. The two of you had been roommates, and without you in her arms, it’s hard.

Her appetite joins her sleep in the list of things you inadvertently took when you left. All she can think of when she sits in her usual lunch spot is how you’re not there with her, making some shitpost-esque joke she’d pretend she didn’t find absolutely hilarious. Not nagging her about her grade in American Lit, not begging her to play a card game, not there. You might never be there again. And she’ll never have admitted that she loves you more than she’s loved anyone else.

She hasn’t felt this alone since… Since… Since before she knew you.

She’s sitting at the desk in you two’s room, unable to focus on her Biology homework when the alarm goes off. For once, she’s excited at the possibility of an attack on the house.

That’s exactly what it is. Kids in dark clothes like her own storm the place, and she and her classmates clash against them. Pent-up emotion sweeps into her fighting, making her a brutal force.

Someone touches at her shoulder, and she turns, ready to deliver the next blow. It’s you. Her fist pauses just before connecting with your nose.

You hadn’t even flinched. You take her fist in your hands and kiss it gently. She allows herself to fall into you, and you stiffen before sighing, wrapping your arms around her. The fight’s over. The loneliness is over.

The two of you eventually enter the school, oodles of students crowding around you. They’re welcoming you, worried about your safety, things they never did before. You clutch Ellie’s hand tightly, uttering an “I’m fine, thanks,” before taking her to the room you two share.

“That was...A lot,” Ellie says, unsure of what else to say.

“Yeah. I’m gonna go shower,” you reply, seeming a little too perky.

“Wait!” she blurts, grabbing your arm. You jolt, not disguising the flash of pain fast enough.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to grab so hard.” Ellie’s eyes are wide with guilt and emotion, but you shake your head, getting a makeup wipe from the dresser and wiping off your arm. 

A bruise. Ellie looks from it to your face. Repeatedly. It takes a lot for her not to turn to a ball of seething rage, not that she’d give that away.

“Training for the Brotherhood is a little different than training for the X-Men. They don’t play quite as nice.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you laugh it off, and she scowls.

“I’m not sorry for that, even if I do wanna pummel whoever did that. I’m- I’m sorry I haven’t said it yet.”

“It?”

“Yeah, it.”

There’s a flicker of hope in your eyes, but you fake confusion. You’re expecting to be let down, Ellie knows. You’re expecting what she’s made you expect. But, if there’s anything Ellie Phimister is good at, it’s defying expectations. She steps closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your chest, listening to your heart. Thump, thump, thump, thump, in time with the pounding sound she hears in her head in the seconds before she speaks:

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply softly, and she sighs at the same volume.

“You smell nice,” she comments quietly.

“I smell like sweat and dirt and like I got my ass kicked,” you argue with a snicker.

“You also smell like you,” she says almost silently, and you blush, speechless. She pulls away, reading your expression. “That was dumb, wasn’t it? I’m not good at this like you are, Y/N. Don’t think I ever will be.”

“You’re definitely good,” you respond in a squeaky, embarrassed tone. It didn’t take much, especially from the pint-sized girl in front of you, to fluster you. She takes your hand, holding it before raising it and pressing hers flat against it. The two of you inspect them together, you noting the similarities, her noting the differences, mentally. 

As you continue to do so, you’re distracted. The attention being away from her lips gives Ellie the courage to use them, getting on her toes to kiss your cheek. You turn a deep shade of red, and she decides it’s even more worth it to show her affection.

“I love you,” she hesitantly says again, and you beam.

Oh, yeah. So worth it.