#YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE STATE OF HIS MIND!!!

[ellieswrldd]

about you

pairing: spiderman!ellie williams x female reader

summary: ellie is living a double life, one of a college student and one of a crime fighting hero. she wants you more than anything but is scared to put you in danger.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, oral sex (r!receiving), scissoring, use of alcohol and weed, ellie is kind of a nerdy loser, a little rushed! not proofread

a/n: writing this taught me that i should never try to estimate when i’ll finish something because “posting this week” quickly turned into “posting sometime this month”….sorry lmao. also this is inspired by the 1975 song!!

8:30 am

Good morning New Yorkers!

This was Ellie’s favorite part of the day. A bagel in one hand, the newest edition of Savage Starlight in her other, and her phone playing the morning newscast. 

Today is April 12th and it looks like another beautiful day…

Moments like these were the only times she felt at ease. Her university classes kept her busy and when she wasn’t studying or in class, she was off protecting the city. 

So, sitting on the rooftop of a building where nobody could bother her was Ellie’s idea of peace. 

It was easy to lose track of time while in her spot and Ellie always tried to keep an eye on the time, but it seemed to end the same way almost every day. 

We’re starting to see some traffic down by— 

The reporter was cut off by Ellie’s loud ringtone. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed softly when she saw it was her best friend Jesse calling. 

“Hey man, I’m kinda busy right now—” She said as she took a bite of her bagel. 

“Dude where the hell are you? Class started fifteen minutes ago and we have that big lab today!” Jesse whispered-shouted into his phone. 

“What are you talking about? I don’t have class on Thursday mornings,” She said. 

“Ellie, it’s Friday, we have class today,” Jesse said sharply, clearly irritated by Ellie’s lack of organization. She couldn’t blame him– he always needed her help during labs, and without her, it was likely he’d get a failing grade. 

“Oh shit!” Ellie groaned and began tossing her things back into her backpack. “I’m on my way right now, I swear.” She stated with her phone pressed against her ear by her shoulder. Stuffing her face with the last of her bagel, Ellie slid her backpack around her shoulders and stood up. 

The streets were beginning to bustle with activity and the sky was bright, New York was awake and ready for the day. Ellie pulled her mask over her face and jumped off the roof, flying towards her class with the flick of her wrist. 

—

10 pm

Going out was the last thing on your mind. You were still coping after a messy breakup, and partying didn’t sound like fun. The only reason you found yourself standing in front of a bustling frat house was because Dina had dragged you here. She had made a variety of arguments as to why you needed to come, mostly consisting of “You’ve been too sad, let’s get you laid!” or “I need you to be my wing-woman, Jesse will be there!”. Despite her nagging and desperation, you somehow ended up following her right to the party. 

“Dee I don’t feel great, maybe I should just go back home,” You mumbled and tugged at the skirt you wore. It was Dina’s and it was far too short for your liking. In the past, you loved partying and going out with friends, but at the moment all you wanted to do was curl up in your bed. 

“Just stay for a little bit, I promise you’ll have fun. It isn’t good for you to rot in bed every day anyways,” Dina linked her arm with yours and gave a soft smile. You sighed and nodded, she had a point. 

You stood in the frat, holding a red solo cup close to you. Dina shifted nervously beside you. 

“What if he changed his mind? Maybe he doesn’t want to see me,” She crossed her arms.

“Dina, he’ll show up, don’t worry.” You reassured her. “Have another drink, you need to chill out,” She shrugged and poured herself a drink. 

“Hey, Dina!” A man greeted your friend loudly, a bright smile on his face. Dina grinned and gave him a quick hug. 

“Jesse! I’m so glad you made it, I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” 

“Sorry, Ellie was taking forever to get ready, slowed us down,” He laughed and shifted his gaze to you. “I’m Jesse, you must be y/n,” 

“Yeah, Dina’s told me a lot about you,” You glanced past him and looked at the girl standing awkwardly behind him. She was staring down at her phone, her lips pursed, clearly not excited to be there. 

“Oh, this is Ellie,” He turned and nudged Ellie with his elbow.

“Hi,” She offered an awkward smile and stood a little straighter. “Sorry, I don’t come to these things very often,” Ellie looked around at the frat, drunk partygoers dancing and screaming, the floor covered in red solo cups and sticky liquids, it wasn’t really her scene. 

“That’s alright, it’s nice to meet you,” You shook her hand. “I’m going to go out and get some air,” You shouted into Dina’s ear and she nodded. Waving to Jesse and Ellie, you pushed past the crowds and made your way outside. 

The cool air against your skin was a relieving change. You leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. It was nice that Dina was looking out for you, but it was honestly overwhelming. 

“Mind if I join you?” You turned to look at Ellie, who stood a few feet away with her hands in her pockets. You simply nodded and tipped your head to the spot next to you. Without all of the flashing lights, you could get a good look at the other girl. A red flannel hung loosely around her frame, her short hair was in a messy half-up half-down style, and her face was covered in light freckles.

Ellie’s eyes lingered on you for a moment before she spoke again. “You look stressed,” 

“I guess that’s one word for it,” You chuckled. She dug her hand into her back pocket and pulled out a neatly rolled joint.

“Jesse gave me this, do you want some?” Your eyes lit up a bit at the sight of the joint and you looked back at her.

“How could I say no to such an offer?” Taking the joint, you held it between your glossy lips. “You got a lighter?” 

Ellie’s eyes widened slightly as she realized she had been staring at your lips. “Ah— yeah, here,” She took the lighter from her pocket and fumbled with it a few times before she got a steady flame. You leaned in and watched as the end began to burn. 

“You don’t smoke much, do you?” You giggled softly as your eyes drifted toward her. She watched you intently and shook her head. 

“No, not really,” You breathed out the smoke and offered her the joint. 

“Do you want to try?” Your voice was soft and sweet, Ellie couldn’t help but take the joint from your fingers. “Just breathe in slowly and then exhale,” She followed your instructions, still watching you as she took a drag. Coughing, Ellie passed it back.

The two of you passed the joint back and forth in silence, staring up at the night sky until you were able to drown out the loud noise of the party. 

“Jesse and Dina are definitely hooking up right now,” You blurted and started laughing. 

“Oh my god they totally are,” She shook with laughter. As your shoulders touched Ellie’s and you laughed until your cheeks grew tired, you realized that you were actually having fun. You hadn’t thought about your ex in hours. 

Eventually, Ellie offered to walk you back to your dorm, and you accepted gladly. 

The walk back was full of mindless giggles and seemingly innocent brushes against one another’s arms. Ellie leaned against the frame of your door as you fumbled with the key. 

“Do you want to come inside?” You muttered with a smile once you managed to get the door open. Ellie’s heart pounded at the offer and she could feel heat rush to her cheeks, but she found herself shaking her head no. 

“I—I’m sorry, I can’t,” She bit her lip and looked down at her sneakers. “I’ve gotta be up early tomorrow for work, but I’ll see you around, yeah?” You tried not to look disappointed but Ellie could see it on your face almost immediately. 

“That’s fine, see ya,” You sighed and closed the door with a small smile. 

Ellie could feel her heart sinking, and she almost regretted her words. Almost. She knew better than to get involved with someone while in her position, she could put you in a lot of danger, and it was too risky. 

The next few days were rough. Ellie seemed to be actively avoiding you for some unknown reason and it felt like Dina and Jesse were too wrapped up in one another to even notice you. Every time Jesse came over to see Dina, he used the same excuse to cover for Ellie’s absence. “She’s busy studying, couldn’t make it today.” 

“Hey, have you seen Ellie lately?” You asked Dina as the two of you walked to class.

“Huh? Oh, no, I haven’t, why?” Dina glanced at her phone before looking back at you.

“Well, I thought we kinda hit it off at the party, but I haven’t seen her since.” You sighed and trained your eyes on your shoes. “I invited her to come inside our dorm, but she said she had work and bolted,” 

Dina looked confused. “That’s weird, she doesn’t work in the mornings,” She shrugged. “I can invite her to come with us to that bar tonight, how about that?” Dina bumped her arm against yours.

“Sure, that’s great,” You smiled, relieved to see your best friend was still looking out for you. Her words stuck with you, why would Ellie lie to you? Maybe she was avoiding you.

That night, Dina got ready with you in your shared dorm. 

“Did she say she was coming?” You asked nervously as you stared at yourself in the mirror. 

“She just liked the message,” Dina snorted and rolled her eyes. “What an ass.”

You sighed. “She’s definitely avoiding me,” 

“I’ll have Jesse drag her ass down to the bar if she doesn’t show, don’t worry babe.” Dina pat your shoulder. “Are you ready to go? I think some of the other girls are there already.” 

“Oh, yeah.” You took one more glance at yourself. You wore a sparkly fitted dress, one that had been growing dusty in your dresser. It was pretty, but a little loud for your taste. “Let’s go before I change my mind,” Dina laughed and nodded.

The bar was busy already, filled with college students and their fake IDs, overpriced drinks in their hands. Dina ordered the two of you some drinks and you stood beside her at the bar. 

You couldn’t help but watch the door as Dina told some exaggerated story. You hated this, the feeling of self-doubt and disappointment that coursed through your body every time a girl let you down. It had only been a few weeks since your last girlfriend dumped you, and yet here you were repeating the same vicious cycle with another girl. 

Just as you were about to make an excuse to leave, the door to the bar opened and Ellie strolled in. She was by herself, fidgeting with her hands nervously as she looked around the room.  

You turned back to Dina before you could meet Ellie’s gaze. You had decided that if Ellie wanted to speak, she would have to come to you first. 

“Hey,” Ellie tapped your shoulder and stood beside you at the bar. 

“Hi Ellie,” You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of your drink. Ellie glanced at her shoes for a moment before speaking again. 

“Can we talk?” She asked quietly. Was she nervous?

“Sure, yeah, outside?” Ellie nodded and followed you out. 

“Okay, you wanted to talk so let’s talk.” You crossed your arms and faced her once you stood outside. 

Ellie took a deep breath and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I know this is kind of forward, but I like you, and I want to get to know you better, but—”

“But?”

“I’m just,” She sighed, seemingly frustrated. “I can’t, I can’t be around you,” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” You scoffed. 

Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose as she struggled to think of a reply. 

“It’s not a good idea,” She mumbled.

“You’re still not making any sense,” 

Ellie hesitated. “Can I show you something?” 

“Sure,” 

“You seriously can’t tell anyone about this,” Ellie glanced around. “Like anyone, not a single soul,” 

“Jesus, I get it, Ellie, I’ll keep whatever secret you’re sharing.”

Ellie nodded and took one more look to make sure nobody was nearby. 

“I’m, um, kind of like a superhero of sorts, like I fight criminals and protect people sometimes,” Ellie’s cheeks seemed to burn red as she spoke. “I just— I don’t want you to be put in danger because of it,” 

You stared at her for a moment before you laughed. “Is this some kind of joke? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! You’re a superhero? Forget it, I’m going home, Ellie,” You turned away and began to walk toward the bar. 

Ellie reached out and grabbed your arm. “No, I swear I’m not lying, I can prove it!” She said frantically. 

“You can prove it?” 

“I can,” She nodded. 

“Okay, prove it.” Ellie nodded and offered her hand to you. 

“Let’s go to my dorm, I can show you there,” 

“Are you trying to get me to sleep with you?” Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“Not at the moment, no. Would you just come with me?”

“Alright then, let’s go,” 

The walk to Ellie’s dorm wasn’t long, but the tension between you and her made it feel insufferable. 

“Here we are,” She nodded toward the building and unlocked the front door. Ellie led you up a few flights of stairs before finally arriving at her room. 

Ellie’s dorm room was covered in colorful posters and pictures. A small telescope was leaned against the wall by her window, comic books were stacked high on her nightstand, and some science textbooks were left open on her desk alongside scattered papers and assignments. 

“This is cute,” You muttered as you ran a hand along her navy blue bed sheets and looked around the room.

“Oh, thanks. You can just make yourself at home,” She smiled and went to open her closet. 

You sat on her bed and watched her rifle through her clothes. “How do you plan on proving this?” You asked, slightly amused by this whole situation. 

“Just wait and see, I don’t think you’ll find it funny in a minute.” She said, glancing over her shoulder to look at you. Ellie finally pulled out a hanger covered by a black zip-up cover. 

She held the hanger up and unzipped the cover, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath the cover was a bright red and blue suit. 

“What is that? Some sort of cosplay outfit?” You snorted.

Ellie narrowed her eyes at you. Without a response, Ellie slipped off her flannel and started tugging her shirt off. 

“What are you doing?” You gasped and covered your eyes. 

“I’m just changing, don’t cream your pants.” She said sarcastically. Ellie stepped into the suit and pulled it on. 

The suit itself seemed good quality, it was a shiny, bright red with black and blue highlights, and it fit her like a second skin. With a closer look, you could see the little details of the suit were designed to resemble a spider web of sorts. 

“This is what I wanted to show you,” She said and held out her hands. On each wrist was a complicated gadget that wrapped around her wrist and lay in the palm of her hand.

You reached out to touch the device but Ellie pulled her hands away. 

“Don’t touch them, you’ll regret it.” She said with a small smile. 

“What do they do?” 

“I’ll show you,” She walked across the room to her window and pulled it open. “C’mere,” 

You went and stood by her side, an anxious feeling bubbling in your stomach. Ellie reached behind her head and pulled the mask of the suit over her face. 

“Do you trust me?” She asked, her arm snaking around your waist. 

“Do I have a choice?” Ellie laughed and pulled you closer to her side. 

“Hold onto me, and uh— don’t look down,” Before you had time to ask her what that meant, Ellie flicked her wrist and sent the two of you swinging out of her window. 

As you flew through the air, all you could hear was the wind blowing past you and the sound of your screams. It was then that you started to believe that Ellie could be telling the truth. 

“Ellie Williams put me down right now!” You screamed as you watched the buildings fly past you in a blur. 

“Calm down, we’re almost to my spot.” 

Ellie slowed down and stopped on a rooftop. She pulled her mask off. “This is my favorite spot in the city.” Ellie helped you find your feet and kept a hand on your lower back. From the rooftop, you could see the glittering lights of the city life and the usual noise seemed to be quieter. 

“That’s great and all but I think I might vomit,” You let out a shaky breath and sat down. “You wanna explain what the fuck you just pulled?” You looked up at her.

Ellie grinned and sat next to you. “The nausea will pass, just take deep breaths. As for that,” Ellie showed you the gadget on her wrist. “They’re web shooters, I made them myself. They shoot something similar to spider webs, but much stronger.” 

“So what, you’re like a spider-girl or something?” 

“Well, when you say it like that you make it sound childish.” Ellie chuckled.

“Okay Spider-Woman, why is this stopping you from taking me out?” 

“I’m scared,” She sighed. “I already put myself in so much danger by doing this, do you know how much worse it would be if I had to worry about keeping you safe as well? I can’t guarantee that you’ll be protected from everything I deal with, and I can’t even imagine what it would be like for you if I ended up hurt or worse.” 

You stared at her for a moment and reached out to rest your hand on top of hers. 

“You’re forgetting that I’m my own person, Ellie, I can make those decisions for myself. You don’t have to protect me, I can do that on my own.” 

Ellie, careful not to touch the web-shooter on her palm, squeezed your hand gently. “I want you and I want this so bad, you have no idea,” 

“Show me,” You murmured as you turned to face her. Ellie let out a shaky breath and leaned in. 

Your lips tasted exactly how Ellie had imagined they would. They were sweet, presumably from the lipgloss you always used, or maybe you just always tasted like cherries, Ellie couldn’t tell, all she knew was that she wanted more. 

“Let’s go back to my dorm,” She murmured as her lips chased yours. 

“Okay,” You agreed, every thought in your head was focused on Ellie, and suddenly the only thing you cared about was getting that comic-book-looking costume off of her body. 

The quick trip back to her dorm wasn’t as scary as the first, though you weren’t sure if you could ever get used to the way your stomach dropped every time she swung. 

The moment your feet were on the floor of her dorm, Ellie had you pushed up against the door, her lips traveling down your bare neck. Your hands ran down Ellie’s back in search of a zipper or button to take off the suit, but you grumbled in frustration when you failed to find one.

“How do you take this fuckin’ thing off?” You muttered while Ellie ran her fingers along the hem of your dress. She laughed softly against your skin.

“The zipper is right here,” She whispered into your ear, taking your hand and guiding it to the side of her torso. Hidden beneath her arm and within the detailing of the suit was a tiny zipper. 

Your lips met hers again, and while you slowly dragged the zipper down, you let your other hand slide around her waist. 

And just before you were able to completely unzip the suit, a loud banging on Ellie’s door startled you both.

“Yo, Ellie, you in there?” It was Jesse, and he sounded very drunk. Your eyes widened as you looked at Ellie, waiting for her to say something. 

Ellie held a finger up to her lips and signaled for you to keep quiet. She was sure that if Jesse assumed she wasn’t home, he’d find someone else to bother. 

Jesse banged on the door a few times and groaned loudly when he realized Ellie wasn’t answering. You sighed softly once you heard him shuffle away. 

“Where were we?” Ellie smiled and pulled you close to her. Finally, you were able to pull down that zipper and the suit came loose enough for Ellie to pull off. 

Ellie slid her fingers under the straps of your dress and let them fall down your shoulders. “Can I take this off?” She asked.

You simply nodded. 

As if trying to tease, Ellie slid one strap down at a time, then moved onto the zipper, which she pulled down as slowly as she possibly could. 

After what felt like years of waiting, your dress fell to the floor, pooling at your feet. 

The feeling of Ellie’s skin against your own was everything you needed. She was warm and gentle, even her calloused fingers felt like butter on your skin. 

Hungry for more of her, you reached out and ran your fingers along the waistband of her black boyshorts. Everything about her drove you insane, the sight of her in the simple black sports bra and boyshorts that she wore was enough to make you go practically feral. 

Ellie followed your lead and copied your moves, tracing the waistband of your panties, then going further and dipping her fingers inside. Ellie could’ve sworn that the gasp you let out when she brushed against your clit was enough to make her cum, god she was already completely soaked just by standing there with you. 

“You’re so wet,” She breathed and her fingers slid against your pussy again. 

“Fuck,” You whined. 

Ellie pulled her fingers from your underwear and licked them clean. 

“I gotta have more of you,” Ellie said desperately.

“Then stop talking and do it,” You bit your lip. Your words were the last bit of confirmation she needed. Ellie grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease.

Just as quickly as you had said those words, Ellie had swept you off your feet and sat you right on her bed. Your legs spread and her head in between them. 

She didn’t waste time taking off your panties, she couldn’t stop herself after she had that first taste. Ellie’s lips brushed against your cunt almost hesitantly but soon enough she was diving into you like she was starving. Your hips bucked up against her tongue as you searched desperately for release. Ellie’s hand snaked up around your thighs and held you down, causing you to whine out loudly. 

“God, you taste so good…” She groaned against your cunt.

“I’m getting close,” You gasped as you felt Ellie swirl her tongue around your clit. 

“We just started, baby,” Ellie chuckled and ran her tongue up along your slit. “Think you can wait a few more minutes? You just look so pretty like this…” She squeezed your thigh and looked up at you with a playful smirk. 

You stared at her, stunned by how she could be so dirty when she was the same girl who had been nervous to talk to you at the bar. How could she look so sexy when her chin and nose were both glistening with your slick and her hair was messy from you pulling on it? Was this the same girl who had choked after taking a drag from a joint?

“Please…” You moaned loudly and let your head fall back against the mattress. Ellie pulled away and kissed the inside of your thigh. 

“Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” She smiled and stood up, pulling her underwear down and straddling your hips. “I wanna cum with you…” She mumbled as she leaned down and kissed you gently. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips once you felt Ellie position her cunt against yours. Ellie let out a whiny moan and slowly rolled her hips forward, drawing out a loud sigh from you. Your bodies moved together slowly as if you were performing some heavenly dance. 

Her wet folds grinding against yours seemed to stop every thought in your head. You couldn’t recall the last person who had made you feel nearly this good– hell, you could barely form a coherent sentence. You reached out and grabbed Ellie’s hands, intertwining your fingers and squeezing her hands gently. 

“God, Ellie I can’t–” You stuttered and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“I know, me too…me too,” She groaned and tossed her head back. It wasn’t hard to tell by the way her thighs were beginning to shake or the loud profanities leaving her mouth that Ellie was just as close to orgasm as you were. 

It only took a few more moments before you came completely undone. A hot, sudden pleasure overcame you just as Ellie climaxed. As soon as the pleasure lulled, Ellie climbed off you and settled down next to you on the bed. 

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” Ellie whispered and turned to look at you. 

“What?” You giggled. 

“This,” She said and slid her arm around your waist. “I would’ve been more…romantic. Take you out to dinner, maybe show you all my favorite rooftops, I would’ve made this special.” 

You cupped her cheek and ran your thumb along her cheekbone. “I think tonight was pretty special. It was the best night I’ve ever had.” 

Ellie’s cheeks flushed slightly and a stupid smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t say that, it’ll inflate my ego.” 

“Alright then,”  

“Hey, promise me you won’t tell anyone about my–”

“Your secret identity? Trust me, I’ll take your secret to the grave.” 

“Thank you.” Ellie took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back. “I just want to keep you safe,”

“I know,” You sighed. 

On her nightstand, Ellie’s phone buzzed. You passed her the phone without hesitation. 

‘Active robbery occurring at…’ The headline flashed across her home screen. 

You watched as Ellie sat up and started grabbing her clothes off the floor. It had barely been ten minutes since the two of you had finished and she was already getting ready to run off and stop crime. 

“I’m so sorry, I just–” 

“You have to go,” You smiled and watched her slip into the suit. 

“Sorry,” She murmured, leaning down to kiss you before pulling the mask over her face. 

“Good luck and be safe,” You waved as she leaped out of the window and swung into the darkness of the night.

[woso-soso]

Missing Puzzle Piece

Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: Mapi and you have been together for years, what will happen when a new person makes an appearance in your lives.

Word Count: 3,639

I would love to talk to you all so please shoot a message my way letting me know what you think! This story is pretty much a prequel setting up for a small series following this trio, if you have any ideas for this series please share, all the angst and fluff are welcome!

Any time words are Italicized it indicates another language being spoken, in the case of this story it will indicate Spanish is spoken.

You’d known María for years, having met when you were barely big enough to ride the fair rides that came into town every year. Meeting at a volleyball camp held at your town's community center, and while María thrived at it you found yourself cowering in the back. Shrinking further into yourself as you struggled to integrate into the game, finding yourself more so on the end of flying balls. Balls you weren't prepared to hit back, leading to more than one frustrated groan from the team you had been forced onto. By the time lunch had come around you were left to sit alone at one of the tables set up, that was until a wild haired girl came bounding over. A smile wide across her face as she sets her lunch down at the seat across from you. You hadn’t caught her name at introductions, having been more focused on not puking on your shoes then learning anyone's names.

“I’m María,” she said, her mouth full of food. “But everyone except my mama calls me Mapi.” 

You stare at the strange girl in front of you, her arms covered in doodles. Many of them being extremely detailed, maybe the two of you would have something to talk about after all. “I’m Y/N,” you whisper hoping the much louder girl will be able to hear you. 

“So why are you here Y/N, I mean not to be rude but like you seem to hate it,” Mapi remarks not looking up from the food in front of her as she continues to shovel it into her mouth at a speed that was honestly impressive. 

“My papa, he got the dates mixed up when registering. I was supposed to be at the art camp next week but now I’m stuck here instead.” You answer somberly. Your papa was doing his best, becoming a single parent suddenly hadn’t been the plan and the two of you took it in stride together. Even when he did mess up, at least he was trying. 

“So you like art,” Mapi’s interest piques as she finally slows down to look up at you. You nod softly as you pick at the simple sandwich in front of you. Something you had thrown together that morning because your papa had forgotten to pack lunch the night before. “What do you like to do?”

“Well, I like drawing. My papa just got me a ton of new pencils to try. But I also really like taking pictures. I have this film camera at home, papa says when it's full we can send it off to get them developed. Apparently it's a long process.” The camera had been something your therapist had suggested, she thought it would benefit your dad to see what piques your interest. Helping get inside your mind since getting you to talk was a challenge. “Do you like drawing,” you inquire hesitantly, looking again at the intricate doodles that covered Mapi’s arms. 

“I love drawing, my mama says I get ink everywhere but I like drawing on my arms. At least then I get to see them all the time.” Mapi’s answer intrigues you. You could see the cap of a ballpoint pen stick out the top of her shirt having been clipped inside to attempt to conceal it. 

“I like that,” you state, a soft smile crossing your face as you look Mapi in the eyes. Her own large smile somehow getting larger. 

“Come here,” Mapi says suddenly, “would you like some drawings of your own.” You nod cautiously, moving around the table to sit next to the taller girl. Wiping her hands on her shorts before grabbing the ballpoint pen. “Here, stretch out your arm,” her hand gently takes your forearm, extending it across the table so it lays flat palm up. The pen tickles, but quickly you grow used to it. Mapi works slowly, making small marks across your arm as you relax into the feeling. 

The rest of the day is less anxiety-inducing as you switch over to the same team as Mapi, her presence not only calming but protective as you were able to hide behind her. Avoiding any more unwanted contact with volleyballs. When your papa comes to get you you can see him eyeing the ink marks across your skin, a relieved smile crossing his face as he watches you wave to Mapi her matching ink marks clear on her skin. 

“So did you make a friend today?” He questions cautiously. 

“I think I did papa,” a bright smile appearing on your face for the first time in a long time. 

“You got in!,” Mapi shouts gleefully, her arms wrapping around your body. The letter grasped tightly in your hand as happy tears trail down your cheeks. 

After meeting Mapi the two of you quickly became tightly bonded. Spending many evenings camped out in each other's bedrooms exploring different art mediums, a football game usually playing in the background as you talked softly. Mapi had always encouraged your photography, she insisted that while you were one for few words your photos always told a story. It was because of her that you got up the courage to apply to art school, the same art school Mapi had gotten into and while she chose to focus on football and not attend you knew it was still the best place for you. 

“I did it, I can’t believe I did it,” you mumble into her shoulder. Your tears leaving a damp spot on her shoulder. 

“I knew you could do it, your mama would be so proud,” Mapi whispers softly, her hand stroking your hair. A new wave of tears starting at the thought of your mama. She had been gone for so long yet it felt like just yesterday she had been showing you her own camera, a camera locked up safely in the attic. 

You pull away from Mapi’s warm embrace slowly, your arms staying connected around her neck. Your stomach twisting as you stare into her eyes, you knew you had feelings for her. It would almost be weirder if you didn’t, the two of you had been inseparable since you were small. You had been there for her through hundreds of football games where she dominated over the boys and she had been there for you while you displayed your photographs at various school events. She knew you front and back, like a book she had read a million times and you knew her the same. Before you can even think about what you're doing you lean in, Mapi making no move to pull away as your lips connect. 

Mapis lips are slightly chapped, yet taste like strawberry as if she had just applied chapstick. Her arms tighten around you, pulling you in closer as the kiss becomes more frantic. The pent up attraction between the two of you coming out full force. The sound of your front door closing being the only thing to snap the two of you apart. Your face most certainly flushed bright red as you stare at the carpeted floor under your feet. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, quickly wiping your face clean of any chapstick. The strawberry scent lingering. 

“Why?” Mapi asks quietly, leaning back on your bed. Watching you as your brain races a mile a minute. 

“I shouldn’t have just jumped you like that, I just… I assumed things and I’m sure they aren’t correct,” your voice cracks as you try to keep from crying. Embarrassment is clear on your face with your blazing red cheeks. 

“How do you know,” Mapi asks. 

“How do I know? Because come on Mapi look at you and look at me, it's silly to think we could be anything more than friends.” You mumble.

“Well firstly, best friends. Secondly, what do you mean look at you? You are the most amazing person I know, I’m honored you like me that way. I’ve liked you for a long time now, I just never had the courage to say anything.” The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Mapi’s words hanging in the air. 

“Really?” You whisper, turning to look at her. 

“Really,” Mapi says, her hand taking yours. 

The two of you are practically inseparable after that, wherever Mapi goes you are sure to follow. For years you worked at small photography studios, focusing on simple family portraits, weddings, and other parties. But by chance there was a day you got asked at the last minute to photograph Atlético Madrid's game against Real Sociedad. Atlético’s regular photographer had fallen ill and of course Mapi took this as a chance to throw your name out there. Sure some of her teammates were aware of your relationship but that didn’t seem to be a hindrance as you trekked out to the sidelines of the pitch, camera and monopod in hand. The game goes well, except for the occasional stray ball you stay safely tucked away capturing the high emotions of the game. 

“Did you get my good side,” Mapi jokes as she approaches, her cheeks flushed from having just finished a full ninety minute game. 

“Now when did you develop a bad side?” Your eyebrows raise in question as you continue to pack up your gear, preparing for a long night at home editing.

“Just checking, just checking” Mapi smirks, hands raised in surrender as she turns to take off back towards her teammates. 

While that night is long. You curled up on the couch as Mapi’s head rests in your lap, her soft snores reminding you how late it was, your hand gently combing through her hair as you edit the lot of photos you had taken. Only finishing as the sun begins to rise, a nagging headache forming behind your eyes as you close your laptop. 

“Come on love, let's go sleep properly,” you grunt as you nudge Mapi off your lap. 

“What time is it?” Mapi groans as you drag her to her feet. Her eyes barely opening enough to see her surroundings. 

“It's either very late or very early, let's not think about it.” You say as you push her into bed, joining her on the other side. Burying yourself under the covers, hoping for at least some restful sleep. 

What you hadn’t expected to come from the game was a permanent job offer from Atlético. They insisted they needed a photography assistant and that if you wanted it you were more than welcome to have it. It wasn’t something you even need to consider, quickly accepting the offer on the table. In the three years you were with Atlético you learned as much as you could, following the lead photographer like a shadow. Getting to know the coaches and players, learning where to draw boundaries with Mapi, you may be together but you weren’t about to risk either of your jobs because of it. 

That's what made it so hard to leave, when Barcalona came knocking at Mapi’s door it would have been stupid to say no. But the dread of having to start over in a new city made you nervous. You were already away from home most of the time, only seeing your papa a few times a year. You had finally established a career in Madrid, but at the same time you knew you couldn’t be away from Mapi. The two of you moved in tandem for a reason, you were two pieces to the same puzzle. You would rather put your career on hold to be there for her then be in Madrid, alone. 

Things fall into place easily in Barcelona, a job as an editing assistant for the men's team opens up only a few weeks after you move in with Mapi. Sure it wasn’t where your passion lied but it was something. 

“How are you settling in my love,” Mapi asks one morning as the two of you laid together in bed, the sun leaking in through the slightly open curtains. Her hand tracing shapes along your spine. 

“It’s okay, I wish I was with the women's team but it's okay, it's a start.” You knew deep down your only actual chance to work with the women's team would be if someone leaves, and who would leave working for the most successful team in the league. 

“It will happen one day, they will see just how talented you are and they won't be able to deny you the  job you want.” You appreciated Mapi’s optimism, she had always been your biggest cheerleader. Reassuring you throughout the years as the two of you grew and changed with one another. 

“Thank you my love, we can hope, but let's not get them too high.” You whisper softly, tracing the tattoos that cover Mapis arms only stopping once your alarm interrupts your morning peace. 

The two of you go your separate ways when you hit the gate at work, her slipping off to practice as you make your way down the never ending hallways. Passing offices of people important enough to have actual doors, eventually settling into your small cubical towards the back of the room. A place you can tuck yourself into and hide from the rest of the office. 

This continues for years, Mapi and you continent in your relationship never really sharing it with others outside of your family and friends. Your social media staying very much private, especially as you start to get more attention from fans of the team for the photographs you take, having been promoted to the men's team head photographer. You were happy, sure you had hopes and dreams you were still working towards but you found yourself fond of the simple everyday routine that you and Mapi had formed. 

That was until you literally ran into a goddess. 

The tall dark haired beauty had exited the main conference room right as you were passing, not a chance for either of you to stop as you collided. The box of hard drives crashing to the ground as she grabs your arm to stabilize you. 

“I’m so sorry,” the brunette says quickly, a thick accent making it challenging for you to understand. Your limited understanding of English not aiding in the matter. 

“It.. is.. okay,” you stammer out, hoping you said something okay. The soft smile on the woman's face giving you some reassurance that you had. 

“I’m Ingrid, I just signed on with the women's team.” The woman you now know as Ingirid declares, her hand extended towards you. Your mind going blank as you gently take her hand. 

“I am Y/N,” you say with less confidence than her. 

“Well, it's very nice to meet you Y/N.” Ingrid declares, dropping your hand to bend down and retrieve the box you had dropped. Thankfully none of the hard drives had fallen out. 

And with that she was gone, your mind racing at warped speed. The tingle on your skin from where she had been holding your arm reminding you of the feelings that had coursed through you. A sudden wave of nausea washing over you as Mapi popped into your mind, your fun, sweet, goofy Mapi. How you could even think of another woman, one you don’t even know, one who will have to work with your LONGTIME partner. This sudden feeling of guilt settling into your stomach. 

You avoid the topic with Mapi for the next few days, a weird silence falling over your shared apartment any time work is brought into the conversation. You know she can tell something is wrong, you can feel her watching you as you try to keep yourself distracted in the apartment. Being barely able to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time this sudden influx of anxiety being clear as day to anyone who knows you. 

It isn’t until one late night when you get home from traveling with the mens team that you and Mapi finally talk. She had stayed up late, catching you as you snuck in the front door.

“Please, my love, come talk to me. Somethings wrong, I can tell.” Mapi’s words make your heart ache, looking into her eyes you see someone who so desperately wants you to open up. Something that you had never seen before, up until now you and Mapi had never had issues communicating. Communication was actually one of the things the two of you pride yourselves on, something many of your friends were actually stunned by when they first learned how open the two of you are. 

You take your time to drop your bags, sliding your shoes off as you close the door behind you. The pit of anxiety growing more into a black hole. Sitting down next to Mapi on the sofa, not daring to look at her. The two of you sitting in silence for what felt like hours, Mapi’s hand gently grasping yours. 

“What is going on in your mind my love,” Mapi whispers softly as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I… I um, I met one of your new teammates last week.” You swallow, tears pricking at your eyes as guilt eats away at you. “She bumped into me in the main offices,” you whisper looking over at Mapi as she watches you intensely. 

“Did she do something to you?” Mapi asks, a hint of urgency in her tone. 

“Nothing bad I promise, she probably doesn’t even remember meeting me. But… when she held my arm to keep me from falling I got this feeling.” You turn away from Mapi again, not wanting to see the look on her face. “And I hate this feeling, it's a feeling I’m only supposed to have with you, yet my skin burned where she held it. I feel like I’m betraying you even though I haven’t done anything.” 

You don’t dare look at Mapi, her hand hasn't left yours and she never shifts further away from you. But this feeling of guilt settles in your stomach, the fear that she will be angry at you for your unwanted thoughts lingers in the back of your mind. 

“Who was it?” Mapi asks after a few long moments. 

“What?” The shock is evident in your voice as you snap your head to look at her. Having expected anger, not curiosity. 

“What is her name? Who is it?” She asks again, meeting your eyes, a soft squeeze of your hand reassuring you. 

“She said her name is Ingrid. I think she just signed on with the team.” Sharing the only information you had. 

Mapi takes a moment to process what you had said, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks as she takes you in. “It’s okay,” she reassures after a moment. “I am guilty of the same,” Mapis' words shocking you. 

“What?” You hiccup. 

“I have had the same feelings you have had for her, I’ve been struggling with them to my love. She is… enticing to put it simply. I don’t blame you for feeling this way about her.” Mapi’s words both alarm you and reassure you. You had felt some security in knowing that while you held these feelings there was no way you were going to interact with Ingrid again. But knowing that Mapi also held those feelings, for someone she is seeing everyday, traveling with, showering with. A sudden wave of fresh tears form in your eyes. 

“You… you like her too. Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask suddenly, pulling your hand away from hers.  

“Of course I was, it's not like I would ever dream of acting on those feelings. I was worried about you. You’ve been acting off.” Mapi defends. 

“I’ve been acting off because I find this person attractive, the same person you apparently find attractive. A person you will be spending time with, alone.” A tone that isn’t anger but more so anxiety present in your voice. 

“I’m not going to ever act on it, I love you, that isn’t changing.” Mapi insist. 

“But what if you eventually find you are loving her? She seems charming, pretty. What do I have to compete.” 

“You aren’t competing my love, there is no competition.” Mapi’s words hang in the air as you process all that has been shared. 

But what if you want to share? The thought of Ingrid making your heart flutter, not in the way Mapi makes it flutter but in a way that feels like she completed the puzzle the two of you were pieces in. Your love for Mapi hadn’t changed, it had only grown over the years, but the thought of Ingrid felt like your heart was whole. 

“What would you think if I thought dating Ingrid would be appealing, if I thought she would fit in well with us?” You ask hesitantly. 

“Are you asking if I would want to open our relationship?” Mapi asks. 

“Not open, it wouldn’t just be anyone. Just Ingrid.” You respond, watching Mapi out of the corner of your eye. 

“I… I wouldn’t be opposed, not if she would be okay with it. She would have to want both of us, I’m not losing you because of someone else.” Mapi whispers. 

“I don’t think you would have to ever worry about losing me.” You say softly as you place a gentle kiss on Mapi's cheek. “Let's think of it this way, if Ingrid shows any interest we consider it. But we will not tarnish us by seeking it out, okay?” 

“I’m okay with that,” Mapi agrees, her arms wrapping around you tightly as the two of you sink back into the couch. A million thoughts racing through your mind as everything that has happened catches up to you.

[bxnnybimbeax]

thinking about.. best friend!satoru gojo who immediately answers when you come calling

bestie!gojo who not-so-secretly, secretly has feelings for you

bestie!gojo who knows everything there is to know about you. Your oh-so wonderful taste in partners… Your likes and dislikes, hobbies, career plans, plans for the future.. anything and everything. Even if you do or don’t exactly tell him

bestie!gojo who drops everything that he’s doing to come see you, when hearing your incoherent sentences of something along the lines of, “…. dumped boyfriend… cheated..”

bestie!gojo who comforts you in your time of need. Listening to all your rants about your ex-boyfriend, supplying you with whatever he thinks would cheer you up, offering you comforting words instead of solutions.

What a great best friend to have!! Right..?

“I hate him so much! What a no good bitch ass womanizer!!” You exclaimed in a fit of rage, scrolling through the posts of the woman who, your ex cheated on you with, as satoru tiredly sighs.

“What does she have that I don’t-“ and before you could continue on, you get cut off by your best friend, Satoru. “Absolutely nothing, sweetheart. You should know your worth by now. It’s not something you have or ‘don’t have,’ it’s the simple minded mentality of… What’s his name again?— Doesn’t matter, He’s too simple minded to know the true worth of what he has in front of him.” He tangibly states, as if it was the most well-known fact in the world.

You attempted to up at him through your clouded vision, blinking away tears that spilled like waterfalls. Taking glances between Satoru, and the images on your phone, you stay silent as he studies you, pools of cool colored diamond eyes staring into yours, hoping to see any slight change of positivity.

He sighs again, taking a seat on your bed as he snatches your phone away from you, and before you could protest, he cuts you off once again… by pulling you close, into a hug. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him, as you let out all your pent up feelings. Sobbing into his chest, as he soothes circles into your back, not caring that you mess up whatever designer shirt he’s wearing.

Satoru’s heart breaks hearing you hurt, he wants nothing more than to ruin whoever was the cause of your problems. But right now, he’s more focused on you.

Satoru hushes your cries, wiping away the salty crystalline off your face as he speaks up, “Oh baby, don’t waste your tears on him. He has no idea what he’s missing out on. Don’t waste your energy on a leech that only takes from you, and never gives. Your deserve someone who reciprocates your feelings, and so much more.” He admitted in a dulcet tone, giving feathery caresses to the side of your face, as he placed a sparse kiss to the side of your temple.

“Cheer up, theses plenty of people who would give the world and die for your affection.” He states in a much more cheerful and playful tone, making you laugh in response to his exaggerated claim.

…

best friend! Satoru who stays with you, through the night. Comforting and creating a much more positive atmosphere to the contrasted gloomy mood

best friend! Satoru who maybe, you don’t see as just a friend anymore..?

A/N: Whats goody gangy. ☝🏾🤓 Sorry I was gone for 5 months I was going thru it with some bitch ass nigga I dumped, which is kinda what I based this fic off of, except no boy bsf I’m in love with to comfort me.💔 He made me delete tumblr so I couldn’t write 😞 I still kept on reading tho 😈

Not proof read btw, bc I’m high as a mf, writing with dyslexia. And it’s late a night, idk if it’s gonna be late when I post this tho😛

If y’all sent a request, resend it plssss. 🙏🏾 I need inspo mookies, and if you have a request feel free to send one in. Msg me abt wtv, and lmk if I can improve on anything

Thanks lovies take care and, hope y’all enjoyed!! 🩷

-bxnnybimbeax

[biteofcherry]

Morning menace

alpha!Steve Rogers x omega female reader

warnings: none; unless we count early morning (basically night) rudeness

Author's Note: This is a short, silly thing inspired by my own "eagerness" to get up in the morning 😂 Shout out to the always amazing @buckets-and-trees, who often has to hear my grumpiness in the wee hours 😆

Grain of Truth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

There’s an annoying beeping sound that spears through the sweet, comfy clouds of slumber and you clench your eyelids shut harder, hoping that some bird of prey would swoop in and swallow that shrilling monster. 

Your pillow moves, adding to the growing annoyance as your subconsciousness tries the hardest to hold onto sleep. 

Finally, that irritating sound ceases, but your pillow continues to slip away. 

So you tighten your grip on it and move your leg further around the wide, hard breadth of it; clutching it both with your arm and your thighs. 

“Come on, babe,” a raspy, deeply masculine voice enters your sleep. 

The sound of it is very pleasant, making you hum in delight and snuggle into the warm pillow. Unfortunately, his words are far from what you want to hear.

“It’s time to get up.” 

“No.” Your reply comes instantly, your nose scrunching up in detestation. 

A low chuckle follows your refusal. Then an arm, which was cradling your back, moves along your spine. A big, strong hand gently grips the back of your neck; his thumb rubbing up and down. 

“I’m afraid it really is. We need to leave in an hour.” 

“No leaving. Staying. An’ sleepin’.” You grumble and though your eyes are still closed and your mind is keeping you halfway submerged in sleep, you recognize that the pillow you’re partially draped over is in fact your Alpha. 

To emphasize your stance on getting up, you roll your body fully on top of him. With a huff, you press your head under his chin and twine your limbs around his massive body. 

“I know you hate early mornings, Sweet Brat.” Steve laughs, palming your naked ass with his free hand. “But we’re about to go for vacation, if you remember. Two weeks away. And then you can sleep even till noon. But to get there, we agreed to leave early.” 

“I would never agree to such idiotic idea.” You protest, growing more annoyed as your sleep starts to truly fade away the longer you continue conversation with the very rude Alpha. 

Steve only snorts. Then attempts to move. To which you respond by clinging harder and giving a small, displeased whine. 

The way he instinctively gives a short purr to soothe you has your lips curving in a smile and your cheek pressing against his sternum. 

“Ten more minutes,” Steve sighs. “I’ll start a breakfast for us. But not a second longer, grumpy brat.”

You whine again, more petulantly this time, as Steve manages to gently roll away from under you. Your body sinks into the warm spot on the mattress that’s soaked with your mate’s scent. 

You instantly bury your nose into it, your body dropping back into a fully relaxed state, so eager to trott back into the dreamland. 

“What kind of vacation requires getting up at this ungodly hour? I don’t want a vacation like that.” You try to reach for the covers, but they seem to be too far away. You’d have to open your eyes to find them, but you really don’t want to. 

“I’d rather stay here. In bed. And rot.” You mumble into the sheets. “You go on stupid early vacation yourself.” 

“You’re worse than Bucky.” Steve gives an exasperated sigh. “And he’s really insufferable before 9AM.” 

Giving a little kick with your leg, you turn your face to the other side and reach for a pillow to cover your head with. In case your bossy Alpha decided to lift the blinds and scorch you with morning sun. 

Though you were pretty sure there was no sun yet on the horizon. There couldn’t be. It was too fucking early! It was basically still night.

“Then maybe go on this mid-night vacation yourself and send Bucky here to me. We’ll be grumpy together and sleep like normal people do.”  

You shriek aloud, your eyes opening instantly, when a brutal sting burns your asscheek. Then another one lands, on the other side of your butt. 

Before you get a chance to react to the spanking, Steve grips your ankles and pulls you across the mattress in one, swift move. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed, feet kicking above the floor. Then strong hands are gripping your hips and you’re lifted into the air. 

Steve turns you in his arms, with the skill of a man who’s done that plenty of times, so you’re facing him. It’s body memory, or whatever cognitive reaction, to wrap your legs around his hips as he carries you. 

The light in the bathroom turns on, causing your eyes to squint in protest. With another huff, you hide your face in the crook of Steve’s neck. He really smells good in the morning. Damn  him! 

He eases you down, until your feet touch the tiled floor. He cups your chin and tilts your head up.

“You have fifteen minutes to get ready, Sweet Brat. And if you even try to sneak back into bed, I’ll make sure that sitting through the few hours drive is going to be a real pain in your cute ass.” 

You scowl at him, but either your sleepy, straight-out-of-bed look doesn’t help with the murderous effect, or your Alpha simply isn’t bothered by your non-verbal threats. 

Quite the opposite, he flashes you a bright smile. Then, still holding your chin in his hand, he seals a short, but rather intense kiss on your lips. 

You watch him leave, still glaring. And maybe - but only a tiny bit - ogling. 

“Next year I’m gonna opt for staycation,” you mutter under your breath.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hey! So I thought of this idea for Gavi, where yall have been dating for a while but he doesn't know exactly what date your birthday is and he ends up forgetting,but the reader doesn't mind because she's had bad experience with birthdays

This req has almost over a year, I'm truly sorry for the wait😭 but life's been pretty busy right now and I haven't had the time to sit down and write something😭😭 also, not prooferead😭💀

Calendar -P.G6

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't know your birthday and you don't mind that, either.

"Amor"

"Mhm?" You grunt eyes not leaving your book

"Can I ask you something?" You hum letting him know you were paying him attention "You won't get mad?"

"It depends" You simply answer "Probably not. What's up?"

"When's your birthday?"

Right there, you froze. You let the book on your lap and looked at your boyfriend.

You and Pablo have almost a year and half dating, he was the sweetest, most caring, responsable, respectful guy you've ever known. He knew and remembered every single detail of you and of your relationship, so it took you by surprise to hear that he didn't know your birthday.

However, you didn't felt any kind of dissapointment or anger, your birthday was just another day and after your 6 birthday, you stopped celebrating it because of a bad experience, so you were just confused.

"You don't know when my birthday is?" He slowly shook his head

"I... don't" He said, you could see the nerves on his face, he was waiting for you to get mad.

"It's ________" You reply looking at him, you smiled softly "Better now?"

He repeated your birthday date under his breath only to gasp.

"That was two weeks ago!" You nod "¡Joder! ¿Como puedo ser tan mal novio?" (How can I be such a bad boyfriend?) "Venga, let's get dressed to have some dinner. I need to buy you a gift, two in fact, one for the lateness and the other for your birthday. We also need to set tomorrow a small party with our friends and family. I need to buy a cake for you as well-"

"Nononono. What are you talking about? No need"

"What do you mean there's no need? Of course it's needed! It's your birthday, we don't turn 20 every single year, we need to celebrate it"

"Pablo, I don't celebrate my birthdays" You state grabbing his hands and trying to calm him down

"¿Cómo que no celebras tus cumpleaños?" (How's that you don't celebrate your birthdays?)

"I just don't. Ever since I turned 6"

"But why is that?"

"I had a bad experience at my birthday party" You shrug shaking your head

"Puta madre" He cursed making you smile "I didn't know that"

"That's weird. I thought you asked my mom everything of me" You joke with a smile on as he grips your thigh

"I asked you some things too" You laugh

"I almost got lost in my birthday party. It was in the park but I walked and walked far away from the party, my mom and dad were attending the invited so my aunt was the one who had to look out for me and she did until her attention drifted to a kid who had fell from the swing"

"I spent around 5 hours lost in the park, it started raining and it got dark quickly, I was crying and shaking from the cold. My parents found me and I could only grip myself to them so bad. I didn't wanted to spend the rest of my birthday there, I didn't even wanted to eat the cake nor open the presents, nothing. And that day I couldn't be separated from my mom, I glued myself to her"

"It sounds pretty stupid but I was so afraid of them not being able to find me and stuff. So I just kinda stopped celebrating my birthday because it reminds me of that not-so-good time"

"It's not stupid, amor. And I'm sorry"

"Why are you sorry for?"

"I didn't know about that and also I made you remember it"

"It's ok, baby. You didn't know but now you do"

"Can I just give you a small gif and an ordinary cake then?" You smile

"I'll make a small exception for you and only this time" You kissed his lips standing up "Where are we going for dinner?"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[aggukleins]

⎯ see you again : joost klein

in which joost has a bit too much to drink and shows up at your apartment.

based on see you again by tyler the creator

warnings angst, arguing, drinking, mentions of a breakup

wc 1118

/You live in my dream state/ Anytime I count sheep/ That’s the only time we make up, make up/

Realistically, Joost knew it was his fault. He wasn’t able to give you what you needed, and maybe he said some things he didn’t mean. In his defence, it was in the heat of the moment and he did regret and apologise for them.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so snappy with you, you wouldn’t have broken up with him.

At least that's what he thought as he laid in bed, repeating the routine he had been doing every night, thinking of where it went wrong. Slowly, just like every other night, his eyes would begin to close tiredly, as Joost slowly fell asleep.

But even as he slept he wasn’t able to escape the idea of you; the imagery of your first date, first kiss, first fight flashing through his mind.

Some nights were easier because sometimes he didn’t dream of you at all. Some nights were harder because you were the only thing on his mind.

/Cupid hit me, cupid hit me with precision/ Wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind/

A groan escaped Joost’s lips as he woke up the next morning; his throat dry and scratchy and his head pulsing in pain. He reached for the painkillers he kept on his bedside table; usually kept away in case of a bad hangover, and while this wasn’t one, he told himself it was close to one.

He was hungover on the idea of you; of kissing your lips; of lazy couch days when it was pouring down rain; of holding you in his arms after a concert. 

It was difficult how none of his friends seemed to understand how one girl could have such an effect on him. ‘You don’t get it.’ Is what he told them.

They didn’t. The way you crossed his mind almost every single day was beginning to drive him insane, he couldn’t escape the thought of you. 

It would’ve been easier to get over you if you perhaps ended on bad terms. If maybe Joost felt angry about the breakup. But he didn’t. All he felt was longing for a person who he was sure held resentment towards him. 

/Can I get a kiss?/ Can you make it last forever?/ 

Did Joost have any idea why he chose tonight of all nights to show up at your apartment? No.

His friends definitely played a part alongside the four drinks he had already had, they’re drunken words of encouragement swayed him entirely.

However, as he actually walked up the stairs towards your apartment; he suddenly felt as though this was a horrible, horrible idea. You hadn’t seen each other in just over a month, and due to mutual friends Joost knew all too well that you were doing better than okay. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips nervously, as he knocked on your door loudly; anxiously rocking back and forth on his heels. 

His heart surged as he heard the familiar sound of your scolding your cat; something he had vividly always remembered you doing when you lived together. 

The door swung open, and Joost watched the emotions wash over you as your eyes scanned over his figure.

“What’re you doing here?” You immediately asked, your nose wrinkling in disgust at the strong smell of vodka lingering around him.

“I miss you,” He admitted, “can we talk?”

/I said I’m ‘bout to go to war/ And I don’t know if I’ma see you again/

You sighed defeatedly, and allowed him space to walk past you into the apartment. His shoulder brushed against yours gently as Joost looked around.

“Nice place.” He hummed quietly, looking around. You could tell he didn’t really mean it, he just didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s just my friend's apartment.”

“Why don’t you have your own place?” 

You could see the confusion written on his face, and you swallowed nervously. “Uhm. I’m moving to New York soon. In a few weeks, actually.”

Joost frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he let your words settle into his mind. “That's.. far.”

“I got offered a good job opportunity.” You explained. The tension in the air felt suffocating, as you inhaled sharply and walked farther into the apartment, towards the living room. You felt Joost follow you; clinging like a harsh cough you couldn’t get rid of.

“I’m sure there’s better ones in the Netherlands.”

“Well, no one here offered.” You interjected sharply, frustration evident in your eyes as you looked at him. 

He swallowed awkwardly, nodding as he looked down at his feet. 

“Why’d you come, Joost?” 

“Wanted to talk to you.” He mumbled, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“About what?” You snapped impatiently. “There doesn’t seem to be much on your mind.”

/”You don’t understand me”- what the fuck do you mean/ It’s them rose-tinted cheeks, yeah, it’s them dirt-colored eyes/

In retrospect, Joost did not show up to your apartment to argue; but he also couldn’t help it when you both started yelling at each other. It felt like the last few weeks of your relationship again, the impending feeling of the break up looming over your heads like a grey cloud. 

He wasn’t particularly sure how the conversation swerved from your move to the idea of you seeing a new guy; but Joost didn’t care to take it back now. The anger that crackled in the air as you continued to fight felt exhausting, and clearly you thought so well as you paced back and forth in the living room.

“Fuck off, Joost. Seriously, I’m sick of this shit.” You sighed, exasperated. “I could deal with your drunk calls and texts, but showing up to the place I’m staying at is a new level of insane.”

“I just wanted you to hear me out.” He pleaded, desperate to return to what he originally wanted to talk about; although the topic seemed lost in his mind now. 

“What the fuck could you possibly have to say?” You shouted, gripping at your hair with your hands as you stared at him.

It felt a little pathetic; how Joost looked like a kicked puppy standing in front of you. The expression he wore on his face felt like salt in a wound as he sat down onto the couch behind him and rubbed his face with his hands. It looked as though it had been weeks since he last got a proper nights worth of sleep; the bags under his eyes all too telling.

“Let me stay the night, please.” He whispered, glancing over at you; eyes pleading.

/One more time?/

[underthetree845]

(dazai osamu birthday post- 2024)

A Taste of Sunlight

Dazai Osamu/gn! Reader (oneshot)

cws: gn! reader (uses of 'bella(donna)') but gender not explicitly stated, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol ada dazai, ada reader, coworkers/friends to lovers, domestic love, domestic fluff, implied mutual pining, mentions of dazai's past suicide attempts, dazai's past spoilers, dazai's dark thoughts, dazai calling himself inhuman and undeserving, baking together, dazai's birthday, reader is dazai's safe space

wc: about 3.7k

summary: how will reader make dazai feel special on his birthday when he doesn't feel like he deserves to?

a/n: this turned out a little darker with dazai's thoughts than I thought it would, but i'm satisfied with how i wrapped things up! i know it's been awhile since i posted my own writing- burnout hit me pretty hard and it's been difficult to get back on my feet, but i knew i had to do something special for him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

Ceilings, plaster. Can’t someone just make it move faster? Abandoned bottles of sake scattered on the tatami mat floor of his bedroom catch the light of the late morning sun as it creeps in through the curtains he keeps forgetting to close. Or rather, the curtains he can never bother to close on certain nights. He never forgets, not really. The dusty little fan in the corner of his room does little to break up the lingering staleness which hangs in the air. You should really open a window in here Dazai-kun, he heard your voice echo in the basement of his mind, Sunlight and fresh air are good for you. You were probably right. Sunlight and fresh air are good for you, everyone knows that. You somehow always are right about him. 

The sun had already found his skin that morning- or rather, the shield of cloth he uses to hide the vast nothingness underneath. The icky, inhuman blackness that he would never allow a creature like you to even brush with your fingertips. For the first time that day since observing the sun come up out his window with hollow eyes and a blank expression, Dazai sat up. Ignoring the slight ache in his head and soreness of his muscles, bandages seeming to be the only thing holding him together, Dazai arose from his futon and silently slumped to his kitchen to down a glass of water. Today was a pointless day. One that shouldn’t have happened at all. Probably one of the worst of Dazai’s life, save for a few particularly nightmarish ones. Nightmares. Maybe he’d wake up, wake up as somebody completely different; or as an old man, and realize that the countertop in front of him and fingers wrapped around the sturdy white mug in his grasp were all really from a time long gone. The mug’s black, dotted on eyes stared back up at him, Dazai’s own brown ones focused, the emotion behind them simply indescribable. Part of Dazai feared waking up too. Something light, something warm, managed to flicker in the cavern of his chest at the memory of the grin that had spread across your lips upon presenting him with the cat mug. A grin you only ever seemed to take on for his eyes. You, he should be ashamed of himself for allowing skin so pure to meet with his own bloody, bandaged hands. Muddled flesh that hardly ever got a taste of the sunlight which always seemed to bathe the surface of your skin. Dazai Osamu had always been a sinner, would it really make his eternal damnation that much worse if he decided to linger in your comforting embrace for a moment longer? 

Yes, today never should have happened. The first one so many years ago, and all the years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret that followed. The number taunted him from the calendar Kunikida had insisted he hang up on his wall, your support in the idea being the only reason he had gone through with it at all. 06 19. The nineteenth of June. June 19th. Definitely some sort of horrible mistake by the gods of this universe. If they even existed. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. Most things can be predicted- whether it be by pattern of behavior… calculated likelihood, or something else of the like. Dazai thought- and still did- that it would be tragically poetic if the date of birth and the date of death on a gravestone perfectly matched. Right down to the date of the month. Yes, a perfectly beautiful idea of a gravestone Dazai had tried a handful of times to make his own. He had the scars to prove it. Aside from empty ‘happy birthday’s from the other executives, there were only really two people in the mafia who placed any sort of importance on Dazai’s birthday.  None of that mattered now. Of course, in reality, all of it mattered. It was what led him here, to the light which now poured in through the window in the living room of his little apartment. In the almost two years Dazai had been employed at the Armed Detective Agency, he’d had one birthday. He was new enough in the office last year that the prospect of his colleagues doing anything to commemorate the event was not very keen. Such was his hope. He did get a lollipop from Ranpo and a ‘happy birthday’ from Kunikida; the blonde did not get on Dazai’s back over his paperwork for the whole day. That was, until you first stepped foot into the agency a few months into Dazai’s employment. Ironically, in spite of all the warm welcomes you received from his colleagues, the brunette found himself extremely suspicious of you. No one could possibly charm that many detectives with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile. Not just anyone could possibly hold that much warmth in their laughter and still have so much to share. That smile of yours. Dazai had ended many lives for many different reasons, despite having failed at cutting his own short so many times. Rarely did he ever spill blood to protect someone- much less because of some irrational, sentimental attachment. If not for his years in the mafia, it probably would have frightened Dazai to realize how easily he would watch the world burn if it meant that smile of yours would be safe. As it turns out, Dazai wasn’t entirely wrong. You weren’t just anyone- you were Name. You, who he didn’t deserve to even stand anywhere near. Who shouldn’t even bother buying someone like him some cat mug that made you think of him. He never knew he could be so emotionally attached to a piece of ceramic. But that was nothing compared to the way you made his head spin.  You would let out a giggle while calling him a flirt for the millionth time. You would share your umbrella with him on a rainy day, circle his birthday in a bright red marker on the little calendar sitting neatly on your desk. The desk right across from his. He’d pretend to not notice the glances you steal because he knows he’s far worse. Buying each other coffee on occasion- usual orders memorized. Experiencing such simple pleasures on a weekly basis- how could anyone have not expected Dazai to fall as hard as he did? 

The thing that broke him out of his trance were four soft knocks on the door. The same way you would knock on the wood of his desk to discreetly get his attention. Dazai was about to dismiss the four knocks as a phantom of his imagination before they sounded again, causing him to turn his head and peer at the door as if it had just grown a pair of wings and flown away. Before you could get the chance to knock again or ring his phone, Dazai ran a bandaged hand through his scruffy locks before brightening up his expression slightly and opening the door. And there you were- not unlike the sunlight which flooded in through the entryway, the first thing you did was send prickles of warmth into his skin and allow that smile of yours to glow. 

“Ah, Bella! I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Dazai greeted you with a singsong voice, “You’re looking as radiant as ever. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Dazai held his mask up for the whole sixty seconds it took you to reply. In that time, your honeyed eyes scanned over the expanse of his face in a way only you could make so overwhelming. The grin on his lips, though meticulously crafted, failed to meet his eyes. He knew you could tell the moment your irises flickered with an emotion far too deep for Dazai to have the energy to explore. You somehow always were right about him.  It didn’t take much longer for you to ask if you could come in for a while, and Dazai accepted as if he’d ever have the strength to refuse. The fabric tote bag clunked with weight as you placed it on his kitchen counter, Dazai trailed behind you as if your torsos were connected by some invisible string. His eyes reminded you of a burnt black cat.

As far as cooking came, Dazai knew how to prepare a few basic things. How to scramble eggs, how to steam rice, how to use the microwave, how to open a can of crabs. It had always been too much of a nuisance to bother with anything more. The cigarettes and sake sustained him well enough. Even so, he found himself peering over your shoulder with dark, curious eyes as you unpacked several ingredients and laid them neatly on the counter.

“My my, did you go shopping for me? How thoughtful,” a small grin played on Dazai’s lips as he held up a tiny bottle of vanilla extract with an inspectful eye. Uncapping the bottle, he took a moment to inhale the scent, goosebumps rising underneath the bandages on the back of his neck at how much it reminded him of your usual shampoo.

“You like cheesecake, right?” you asked, voice a gentle breeze as you tilted your head in his direction. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. He paused momentarily, raising an eyebrow as you cleaned your hands in the sink. How you came to acquire such a fact was beyond him. Your fingers then reached out to preheat the oven, the one he usually didn’t spare so much as a glance. “I’ve only had the chance to taste it a handful of times, but I do have to admit, I’m a fan,” Dazai replied. You were smart enough to bring your own mixing bowls, pans, and stirring utensils. Sometimes he questioned how he ever allowed you to come to know him so well. “If you wanna help me, would you mind washing your hands first, please?” you requested, and Dazai didn’t even wait a moment before turning to the sink. 

You did a better job of filling his apartment with warmth and light than the sun ever could. From the way your shoes sat at the front door right next to his own to the way your perfume would linger around after you’d taken your leave. Your fingers would cup over his own as you demonstrated how to properly stir the ingredients together. He would internally curse the persistence of the butterfly in his chest when you commented on how pretty you thought his hands were. You made his sparsely decorated, thin-walled little apartment feel just a little more like a home. Dazai waited patiently with the batter in his arms as you pressed the buttery graham cracker crust firmly into the pan. If the universe were kind, he would have been allowed to stand there and take you in until the end of time. He knew he probably wouldn’t ever deserve to have someone like you in his life. Not the way your eyes softened when they met his, not the way you flushed so beautifully in response to his compliments and praise. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to give you as much as you deserve. He didn’t even come close to deserving the trust you must have had in him that evening on the metro, when you slept on the shoulder of his coat. Both of you missed your stops that day. How could anyone have expected him to have the heart to disturb you? They were the ones who whispered how he didn’t even have one.

Before he knew it, the cake was almost ready to be placed in the oven. Your fingers cupped his own once more as you helped him pour the batter evenly before scraping the last bit out with the blue silicone spatula from your bag. He spun the pan in a circle on the countertop to even the batter as you slipped a pair of well used oven mitts onto your hands. “Looks perfect,” you offered some gentle praise and he felt his heart soften. Once the batter had been slid into the warmth of the oven, you removed the floral print oven mitts from your hands and leaned against the counter with a sigh. Dazai’s eyes were drawn to the way your fingers were delicately folded in front of you, how soft your skin looked and how it might feel against his own. From the gentle curve of your lips to how your eyelashes brushed your cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed… he found himself at a loss. You always somehow seemed to dwindle him to a shadow of his former self, bring out sides of him he didn’t even know he had. Out of all the crimes Dazai had committed in his life, stealing your heart was by far the worst one. He didn’t think he’d be able to give your heart back if he tried, especially when you held his own so easily in the palm of your hand. “Have you had water today?” you voiced, finally turning to bless him with your gaze. “I drank some just before you came, actually,” Dazai replied, eyes briefly flickering over to the now empty cat mug sitting on the counter. “Would you care for something to drink yourself? What might suit your fancy, m’lady?” He cocked his head playfully. Your eyes regarded his thoughtfulness. A look far too fond for someone like him. Especially from someone like you. “Some water might be nice, thank you.” “You know I aim to please,” he nodded slightly, opening the fridge to get his pitcher.

A little while later, a timer went off on your phone, and Dazai tilted his head when you slid the oven mitts back on and set the cheesecake on the stovetop. “Isn’t it a bit too soon, Bella?” he inquired, leaning over your shoulder as you grabbed a little green bowl that had previously been set aside, “The center still looks a bit too mushy, doesn't it?” You hummed slightly, a pleased expression crossing your face. “Look at you, getting more adept at cooking already?” a soft grin played on your lips as you gave him an affectionate pat on his cheek. “I’m learning from the best,” Dazai replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiled. “You’re right, it’s not quite done yet, but I’m adding the topping now so it can cook a little with the cheesecake at the very end,” you explained as you carefully poured the topping on, “It’s usually done this way. Makes it yummier.” It’s wrong, Dazai thinks, to indulge himself in your company like this. There are a million other better ways you could be spending your time. Not taking the time out of your day to come fan a flame already at the end of its wick. Even so, even if a part of Dazai might never allow himself to fully believe what you say when you tell him what kind of person he is in your precious eyes, nothing but being in your arms has ever felt so close to what others might describe as home.  Not where he grew up, not his shitty old shipping container or the mattress on its rotting floor. Not any of the places he would lie awake at night hoping to waste away or any of the many bottles of sake that have met his lips. They filled his stomach, flushed his skin, but left his chest cold, barren, empty. “Cherries are in season this time of year you know?” you said, sighing at the scent of the mashed up fruit and sugar bubbling in the pan in front of you. Combined with the warm scent of the cheesecake wafting from the oven, even Dazai, whose appetite usually didn’t amount to much at all, found his mouth beginning to water. “Are they?” he tilted his head with a fond smile, imagining what it might be like to get used to having you in his kitchen more often. What a dream it would be to have coming home mean coming home to you. You looked so perfect in his apartment it almost hurt. Whether you were curled up on the cushions of his couch, cross legged on the floor, or standing in front of the stove pouring some homemade cherry sauce over a freshly made cheesecake, he would take it all. Savor every last bit of the warmth and light with which you filled his apartment.  “Why don’t you open a window in here before we start eating?” you suggested, and Dazai let out a breath of resigned amusement. He stood from where he had been leaning against the countertop and strolled over to the living room. “Hm, Bella, don’t people usually eat cheesecake cold?” Dazai wondered, looking back at you for a moment as you grabbed a pair of forks from a drawer. “Yeah, they do,” you replied, placing two equally sized slices of cheesecake onto one of the plates from Dazai’s cabinet. He didn’t have to remind you where they were kept. “But personally I like eating it warm, I always have,” your lips curved up into a smile, “especially when it’s freshly baked. Makes it yummier.” “Huh, well I trust your opinion,” he offered a slight smile, returning to take a seat at the little round table just as the two plates were lowered. The cheesecake looked even more appetizing now that it had been neatly sliced and plated, but nothing made him want to eat it more than the fact that it had been prepared by the loveliest pair of hands he had ever met. 

Dazai took notice of the way you held your breath when he took his first bite; you shouldn’t have been so anxious for the approval from the likes of him, yet he found it hard to get himself to care when you looked so downright adorable while doing it. His eyelids slid shut for a brief moment, being sure to completely savor the mouthful before swallowing with a bob of his throat and finally meeting your gaze with his own. “Bella…” Dazai started, hands unmoving, voice lower than usual. You furrowed your brows when you couldn’t decipher his tone. “What is it? Is it okay?” you leaned forward, eyes searching his face for any sort of indication. “Do… do you not like it?” something pulled tight in your chest at the thought, your grip on your fork stiffened slightly, “It’s okay if you don’t, you can say so.” The following heartbeat of silence felt like it stretched on for an eternity. “Bella you’ve ruined me,” he sighed dramatically, slumping in his seat and placing the back of his hand on his forehead in exasperation, “How am I ever supposed to enjoy anyone else’s cheesecake ever again?” His heart nearly melted when you paired a blink with the slightest tilt of your head, he could see the wheels in your mind turning for answers. “So you… do like it?” you spoke softly, as if afraid to disturb whatever strange state of emotion Dazai was using to express his feelings about the cheesecake. “No, my Dear, I’m afraid ‘like’ isn’t nearly a strong enough word, not even close!” he suddenly sat up straight in his seat, “I love it so much, I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy cheesecake ever again unless you make it for me.” Finally, Dazai gets his reward when a grin splits onto your lips. “Is that so?” you giggle when he cups your hands between his own and nods urgently. That smile of yours. “Absolutely. You’ve doomed me to a pathetic existence,” Dazai pretended to cringe in pain, “forever wandering in search of the joy I once experienced, never knowing if-” “...I’ll do it again,” you said, and his ears perked up. “Hmm? What was that? You’ll do what again?” he raised his eyebrows, satisfied with the flush now evident on your cheeks. “I’ll make you cheesecake for your next birthday, and the one after that, and any time you want some in between,” you smiled sweetly, and Dazai’s heart leapt at your sincerity. “Do you mean it?” his eyes seemed to light up slightly, matching the sparkle in your own. He squeezed your hands. 

There was a saying in the Port Mafia. ‘The biggest misfortune for Dazai’s enemies is that they are Dazai’s enemies.’ Whether they called him a demon or a prodigy or a dog of the mafia really made no difference. When the sun set, they would be the ones quivering at the barrel of his gun as he listened to their pleas with cold, dead eyes. Dazai has been called by many names throughout his life; most, he knew, were well deserved. Even when addressed by his own name, it was usually out of exasperation, irritation, unease, or something else of the like. People spat his name with the bitter bite of a cold rain, and he couldn’t even remember the last time someone uttered his given name very tenderly at all. It was dangerous, Dazai thought, how easily he could see himself growing used to being with you like this. Pathetic, how the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia was reduced to a shell of himself the moment you offered so much as a smile. The way you said his name made him seem like something precious; something worthy of getting to see that smile of yours, to have your eyes light up when they meet his. 

“Happy birthday, Osamu,” you said, and god your voice had never sounded sweeter. Yes, you’ve ruined him. Absolutely ruined him. Reduced him to a shadow of his former self with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile, and the worst of it all was that you didn’t even know it. You tore away all those layers of bandages, you reached out and touched something Dazai didn’t even know he had. Even as his heart bled, you would cradle it close to your chest, whisper sweet nothings that everything would be alright. Dazai found himself inclined to believe you. Perhaps the reason he seemed to be without a heart for all those years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret, was because it had been with you all along. 

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

a/n: thank you so much for reading! it means a lot- i hope you have a lovely day/night/morning/evening and remember to drink plenty of water! divider credit: (x) (x) tagging: @ringsofsaturnnnn

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

could you write a one-shot , where the female reader is an FBI student (one of Will‘s)and due to Will being sick, Hannibal takes over and that‘s how they met for the first time. The reader then get‘s called into the field and needs a psych. evaluation done by Dr.Lecter. A few months later they are together abd remember how they first met.(with smut?)

Hannibal X Reader: Tender beginnings

Warnings: smut, fluff, domish Hannibal (not really though), kissing, pet names, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration ( p in v), no use of y/n

Word count: 1,7K

“Will you are never going to believe what i-oh.” 

You stopped mid sentence eyes falling on a strange figure. You look at the sign by the door thinking perhaps you’ve entered the wrong class room but upon further evaluation you were in the right place. The only thing missing was Will. The stranger turned to look at you.

“One of Wills' students I presume.”

“Yes and you are?”

“Hannibal Lecter. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You took Hannibal's hand giving it a shake.

“Is Will okay?”

“Yes he’s fine. Recovering from a small flu. He should be back on his feet in no time.”

“You’re filling in for him?”

“Yes, I'll be taking over for him this week.”

“You might have a tough time.”

“Why’s that?”

“Wills one hell of a teacher. Not so sure you can live up to him.”

He should have been offended by your words but he could see you were just being coy. And he’d only just met you there was still time to prove you wrong. As much as you adored Will, you had to admit Hannibal was a good teacher. He made it through the week with little issue. On the last day of his class you stayed a bit longer, wanting to talk to him before he left.

“You proved me wrong.”

Hannibal smiled to himself before turning to face you.

“Did I please you?”

“Eh you were alright.”

You gave him a coy smile, a silent way of telling him you were only teasing. 

“It was nice meeting you Hannibal Lecter. Maybe I'll see you around?”

“Maybe you will.”

You had no idea how right you had been with your prediction of meeting Hannibal again. A couple of months after he filled in for Will you were given the official welcome in the FBI. Becoming an agent meant a lot of things and one of them included having a steady mind. So you were asked to have a psych evaluation done, a last step into your journey to become an agent. 

And who would be your psychiatrist? 

Well none other than Hannibal Lecter.

“Seems fate keeps pulling me towards you.”

“Perhaps it’s merely because you and i both work for the FBI”

“Maybe. But they could have sent me to other psychiatrists. Yet here I am. I’d say fate doesn't seem that far off.”

Hannibal shook his head, gesturing for you to take a seat.  You’d done psych evaluations before, they were mandatory for you to begin your training, but this one felt different. Hannibal seemed to ask you questions that didn’t have a lot to do with your state of mind and more to do with you as a person. Maybe that was the moment you should have realized his interest in you but you remained oblivious until he, very directly, asked for your number.

“What are you thinking about over there?”

You turned your head to look at Hannibal. He was laying on the bed the book he’d been reading moments ago rested on his lap. 

“Just remembering how we met.”

Hannibal got up from the bed moving over to the vanity you were sitting in. He placed his hands on your shoulder giving a kiss to the top of your head. You looked at him through the mirror observing as his reflection smiled down at you.

“What did you first notice about me?”

“Your confidence.”

“Come on Hannibal, I'm being serious.”

“So am i. You never notice it but the way you walk into the room shows everyone who sees you just how strong you are. It’s one of the things that captivated me about you.”

You turn your body in your seat, allowing you to face Hannibal. He moved his hand to cup your chin, his thumb stroking your cheek. Your reach forward Wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his stomach. 

“You really mean it?”

“Of course I do, dear.”

You hum against Hannibal's skin, your hands moving against his back in circles. Your brows furrow as you think and Hannibal notices immediately. His finger moves to caress the line in between your brows causing you to snicker before gazing up at him lovingly.

“Can you imagine if Will had never gotten the flu? I would have never met you.”

“That's not true.”

“Of course it is Hannibal. If we hadn’t met in that class room you probably wouldn’t have asked for my number and we wouldn’t be together.”

“But we are together dear.”

“I know. I just can’t help thinking about it. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“You will never have to. I’m right here. Let me prove it to you.”

Hannibal Moved his hands underneath your armpits, lifting you off the chair with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to his body as he walked over to the bed. He placed you in the bed gently. You watched him sink to his knees, his hand moving to grip your ankles. He gave your body a tug, forcing you to move closer to the edge of the bed. You leaned up on your elbows, eyeing Hannibal for a moment. He felt your gaze on him causing his eyes to find yours.

“Lay down dear. Relax while I taste you.”

You knew better than to deny Hannibal the pleasure of tasting you. He enjoyed eating you out just as much as you did. You settled against the silk sheets, closing your eyes. Hannibal widened your legs, moving the shirt you used as pajamas up until your bare body was revealed to him. You usually slept without underwear and this time was no different. Hannibal stared at your pussy, taking in the sight before inching his finger closer. You body jolted up as you felt him play with your folds. A small moan escaped your lips as he continued to toy with you for a moment. His hands caressed your thighs as he inched his face closer to your pussy. 

Your hands latched onto Hannibal's hair as his face finally came into contact with your body. His tongue moved over your folds slowly. He always liked going slow when it came to you. He would only move at a rougher or more rapid pace if you asked him. His tongue entered your core, causing you to shudder at the feeling. Hannibal lapped at your pussy for a while before adding his fingers into the mix. You let out a moan as his fingers plunged into you.

“Oh Hannibal! Yes there right there-fuck…”

His lips moved to suck on your clit as his fingers continued to move against you. Your hands clawed at the sheets as you felt your orgasm creep up on you. With every moan you let out the quicker Hannibal moved his fingers inside you until finally your body couldn’t take it anymore. You came onto Hannibals face with a scream of his name, your hands flexing against the bed before finally relaxing. Hannibal moved back, resting on his knees for a moment as he observed you come down from your high. You put your finger out, motioning for him to come to you. He did as you requested, his body moving to crawl on top of you until you were face to face. His face glistened with your juices. You leaned forward licking his chin before tugging him into a needy kiss. 

You could feel Hannibal’s hard-on nudge against your bare skin. You placed your hand on his chest, guiding it down until you felt his dick in your hand. You gave him a cheeky smile, biting your lip as you caressed him through his boxers. Hannibal grunted, his nose scrunching as his desire for you grew. You moved to whisper against his ear.

“I think I still need you to prove to me your mine.”

Hannibal laughed at your words, leaning his head against yours.

“Gladly dear.”

You watched him move off the bed, removing his boxers before climbing back on top of you. He placed his hands on your legs, lifting them up so that your knees were bent. You widen your legs for him, making it easier for him to line his dick up with your pussy. Your mouth opened in a silent moan as he sunk into you slowly. You could hear the deep breath he took as he bottomed out. Hannibal grabbed your wrists, forcing your hands to move above your head. 

“You ready for me?”

All you could do was nod for him, the feeling of fullness he gave you turning your mind to mush. He moved forwards with one sharp thrust waiting for a moment before removing his dick almost entirely and plunging back into you. You squealed as he fucked into you, desperately trying to grab onto his body but the grip he had on your wrists stopped you.

“Behave. Or I won't make you cum.”

You stopped squirming at Hannibal's words. You knew he was all talk but you couldn't help but do as he said. He rewarded you for your good behavior of course, his hips moving faster against you. The bed cracked as Hannibal continued his movements. Your legs wove against his waist, trying to get him closer to you. 

“Hannibal, I'm close. I- ah- shit!”

“Come on dear, cum for me.”

You gushed onto Hannibal's dick, your walls clenching around him. He released your wrist, his hand moving to grip the bed frame for better leverage. Your body moved as he began to roughly thrust into you. Overstimulation started to get to you but before it started to get too bad Hannibal's orgasm washed over him. His body sagged into yours, his weight falling onto your body. You enjoyed the feeling, it reminded you he was real. He nuzzled his nose into your collarbone placing a kiss there before rolling off you. The two of you lay in silence for a moment. You felt Hannibal's hand around you, tugging your body closer to his. You snuggled up against his frame, moving to place a kiss to his cheek.

“Promise you’ll always be mine?”

Hannibal stroked your hair as he looked at you lovingly.

“I swear.”

[hallowpen]

Hi, same anon from the mxfruit ask :) im sorry if im bothering you too much, but you mentioned there are other darker skinned or afroasians influencers/artists…would you mind telling me which ones do you follow/are your favorites? Would love to give them support as well :)

It's not a bother AT ALL!!! I appreciate you wanting to show support... it means a lot ❤️❤️❤️

I'm going to start off with the KING (not literally hehe) Morris K. If you are a fan of Thai BL, then you'll probably recognize him from Triage... and if you haven't seen Triage then I highly recommend you do!!! But... he has quite the acting career under his belt. He's been very open about his struggles being half-black, and how his being the first black celebrity in Thailand was a difficult journey. He's a huge advocate for more opportunities for Thai-black people in show business. He literally paved the way and I have great respect for him.

Tsunari. She is half-Thai and half-Trinidadian. If you're a fan of rap or hip hop, then I highly recommend her music. She often mixes in some english with her thai lyrics... and she's done a few covers of western artists. Give her a listen on youtube!!!

badmixy. She is an openly trans and proud Thai singer. She writes her own music and her lyrics have occasionally brought me to tears. Again, give her a listen over on youtube.

Rusameekae Fagerlund. He is an openly queer Senegalese-Thai actor, model, and mc. He's done several interviews to raise awareness about homophobia and racism in Thailand. He was named Scene Stealer of the Year in 2016 for his role in เพื่อนรัก เพื่อนร้าย (Best Friends, Bad Friends). He was a host on "Dress My Love" which is available on youtube (I don't think it's subbed though) which was a fun program where they would talk about fashion and have couples on as guests where one would style the other according to a certain theme.

Nam Patcharaporn and Maeya Nonthawan. Both are beauty pageant winners who faced criticism and unnecessary backlash for their darker skin.

Suzie Natthawadee. She is a social media influencer and vlogger that gained popularity when she spoke up about the Black Lives Matter movement in the United States and how Thailand should reflect on their own ideas about race and skin color. You can follow her on ig and tiktok @ suziewadee.

Esther Oruche. I might have spoken about her before hehe. She's fairly new to the scene, but I'm very much looking forward to her future projects... have I mentioned The Last Case enough??? I don't think so.... Please support her and her series!!!

[faeskiss]

In Another Lifetime

hi!! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a a while I have been very busy with college admissions and stuff, but I got the idea for this fic out of the blue and just HAD to write it, this might be confusing at first but please keep reading it will make sense in the end I PROMISE!

The noble trials AU fic!!

zaros x reader !!

“The dessert is absolutely incredible, the royal kitchen of Serulla is blessed with gifted chefs, we are very lucky” says the woman sitting at the head of the dining table, the rest of the guests agree in unison

Her voice is as smooth as honey and as light as a daffodil, it feels comforting, quite soothing even, it tugs at your heart, almost as if it’s trying to tell you something, but your mind fails to pinpoint what or why

You have been losing your sanity trying to figure where you are, who these people are, why it all feels strangely recognisable, why everything has a tinge of haziness to it, but one thing you are certain of is that your patience is growing thin

The dining room is so huge you feel as if though it stretches on forever, the glass table is decorated with gold candlesticks, polished cutlery that gleams and dinnerware you feel anxious to eat from, mostly because you’re scared you might break a plate or two

The crystal goblets have an intricate gold pattern on them that messes with your mind, you’ve seen this design before, you have, you are certain that you have, but your brain fails to remember where, that’s when you start to feel your heart filling up with an uncomfortable anxiety, your breath quickens a bit, an ominous inkling weighs you down

“Are you alright my Earis?” asks the blonde man sitting next to you, worry laced in his voice, his voice, it’s painfully familiar, just like everything around you, your inability to understand why you feel this way is getting gravely aggravating by the minute

“Earis” the word echoes in your mind, how can a word you’ve never heard before feel like it belongs to you? like it’s yours

That’s when your entire demeanour shifts, you feel terrified and you don’t even know why, your heart hammers against your chest, panic gushing swiftly through your veins, you are certain you might faint on the spot

You clutch the lavish goblet in your hand and gulp down heaps of water, almost as if you expect it to fix your utterly disheveled state and bring you back to your senses, but it doesn’t do anything other than soothe your thirst, and you suddenly realise how dry your throat was, it must’ve been forever since you drank any water

You suddenly feel a warm hand on your shoulder and your attention is quickly directed elsewhere

“You’re really starting to concern me now, you’ve been acting so strange the entire night” says the blonde man next to you, worry still evident in his voice

His yellow locks look luminous in the warm light of the chandelier, bright like the sun, his piercing green eyes ablaze with confusion as they peer into yours

For a few moments you just stare at him, soaking him in, there is something about his disposition that makes you feel so very safe, his mere presence is comforting, almost as if you’ve known him for multiple lifetimes

He is saying something but you are too lost to even focus on his voice

That’s when you realise, his name, you know his name, the sudden rush of adrenaline fills you up with a bolt of energy

You know his name

Your heart races at the possibility of being able to remember something about this place, the possibility that you aren’t crazy to think everything around you feels-hauntingly familiar

He looks at you with perplexity painted all over his face and a faint horror in his eyes, but you brush him off and divert your attention away

You focus with every ounce of energy in your body, you know his name, it’s there, hidden deep in you, all you have to do is focus

You hear the ghost of a word swim in your mind, trying to pry it’s way out, almost on the very tip of your tongue, but as soon as you as you think you’ve finally got it, a sharp stab of pain pierces your temples, making it’s way to the back of your head, engulfing you in agony

“Why can’t I remember?” you whisper to yourself in despair

This is the breaking point, your mind is crumbling this very instant and there is nothing you can do about it, no one you know is here, no one to turn to, a helpless fear surges through you, making you nauseous

Someone gives your shoulder a slight shake, but this headache makes it impossible to think about anything else

Your patience has run out, you feel as if though you’re going crazy, a million questions flood your weary mind, overwhelming you, trying to drown you

Warm hands reach to cup your face, it’s him, the beautiful man with the sun-kissed hair, who’s name you almost died trying to recall, but now the look on his face has gone from worried to downright terrified

“What is going on? Please talk to me!” you can feel the anguish in his voice touch your heart

Tears start to bubble in your eyes, making their way down your cheeks, your headache growing stronger by the second

“I don’t know what’s going on” fear is evident in your voice as you sob in your chair, looking at him with pleading eyes, begging for help

You wonder why no one else in the room has noticed you two or noticed your crying

He looks at you with misery in his eyes, almost as if it kills him to see you in this state

His hand travels up towards your forehead, then to your neck, as if he’s checking you for a fever

“Gods you are burning up” he says in a panic

“I’m really scared” you cry out

“Nothing will happen to you, I promise” his voice is warm and reassuring, it’s the only thing keeping you from having a panic attack

“I am taking you to your room” he asserts

He offers you his hand and you take it, you get up in an instant, trying your best to not stumble to the ground, his hand encircles your waist as you hang onto him for support, every touch feels like home

“Is everything ok?”

You notice the woman get up from her chair in a hurried manner, the same woman who was sitting at the head of the table, the worry in her voice surprises you

“Why does she care?” You think to yourself

“I fear the Earis has a fever” he says

“Gods!” she cries out

Concerned voices fill up the room

“There’s no need to worry, I am taking them to their room in an instant” he says

“I’ll send the chief curer right away” she adds

You don’t know who any of these people are, or why they care, but it seems that you are someone of importance to them

He takes your hand and guides you through the hallway, you can barely walk, the dull, crushing pain in your head still throbs with intensity

He opens the doors to your room, the plush bed calling your name as he helps you to it. You feel your legs go numb as you lay on the soft covers, the pain slowly ebbing out of your body

“I think I know you, I know your name, I really do” your voice is faint, almost a whisper

“You have to believe me-“

“Just go to sleep” his hand reaches to caress your hair

“Everything will be okay when you wake up, I promise” he says softly

You feel a gentle kiss on your forehead as your vision fades to black

You are woken up by the obnoxious ringing of your alarm, you check your phone and notice that it’s already 7:00 am, you snap back to reality when you realise you have an important paper due today

The dream, you aren’t surprised, because you’ve had similar ones countless times before, the same blonde man, the same woman with the sickly sweet voice, the familiarity of your surroundings, you try to figure out who they are but you always fail, and every time, you wake up with the same goddamn headache, only this time you have a fever to go along with it

You drag yourself out of your bed, despite being sick, you cannot miss college today or you’ll simply fail the semester, you hurriedly get dressed and rush your way to your class

After having finally submitted your paper, you feel relieved, you notice your headache has gone away and your fever has gone down, you walk through the busy hallway trying to make your way out to meet your friends, but you suddenly bump into someone

“I’m so sorry-“ you stop your sentence midway because your heart simply ceases, your body grows cold, you stare at the face of the person you bumped into, it’s like you can’t breathe, no words come out of your mouth, you’re frozen from shock

It’s him, the beautiful blonde, the person who plagues your dreams, who’s name you’ve tried to remember a trillion something times, how is this even possible? You have never seen him around, never heard of him, there is no logical explanation for any of this, and what is even more shocking is that his expression mirrors yours, almost as if he is just as surprised as you

“I am sorry, I wasn’t paying attention” he says with a sense of disbelief in voice, those green eyes, his sharp green eyes are now ladened with shock

He hesitates at first, but slowly turns around and walks away

You feel a familiar shooting pain in your temples, it clouds your mind, painful and torturous, but it goes away as quickly as it came

Your mind reverberates with a faint name, growing louder and louder, till it echoes in your very soul, it’s on the tip of your tongue once again, only this time, you whisper to yourself, in the busy hallway, watching him walk away

“Zaros”

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Surprise. Pt. 3 Post Azkaban!Sirius x Mom!Reader

You and Sirius have a chat.

Part One. Part Two.

Taglist: @box-of-kinderjoy @projectdreamwalker @goldenharrysworld @navs-bhat @sagestack

You aren’t sure what you expected Sirius to look like after more than a decade in Azkaban, but this is much worse than you pictured. The dirty, malnourished, manic-looking man standing in front of you is a far cry from the healthy, handsome Sirius you once knew. The sight of him in this horrid state is enough to grow a lump in your throat.

You always had complex feelings about Sirius after he was sent to Azkaban. It was easy to be angry at him for betraying everyone and causing the death of James and Lily, but you were more than angry. You were devastated, to say the least. It’s impossible to say how many nights you cried yourself to sleep. Even knowing what he’d done, it was hard to imagine the one you loved rotting away in Azkaban.

The first few years without him were hell on earth. It wasn’t long after he was incarcerated you found out you were pregnant, and whilst everyone in the wizarding world was partying and celebrating the downfall of You-Know-Who, you were curled up in a ball sobbing and wondering how in the world you were going to do this all on your own.

It was difficult, but you managed. As the years went by and Estelle grew bigger, things got easier. You were able to push Sirius out of your mind and go on without him, but not without continuous effort. With every life change and new milestone reached, you couldn’t help but wonder how differently things would be if Sirius were there too.

For Estelle, you tried your very best to make sure she never wanted for anything, but your heart ached at the thought of her never knowing the love of a father. Estelle used to ask about him (“Why don’t I have a dad?” “Where is he?” “Is he dead?”), and you were never sure what to tell her.

You aren’t proud of it, but as her questions persisted, you lied to her. You lied and told Estelle you don’t know who her father is. She stopped asking about him after that.

You don’t know why you lied. It would’ve been much simpler to tell the truth, but maybe a small part of you wanted Estelle to blame you rather than blame Sirius for her lack of a father. It felt a little stupid, but you didn’t want Estelle to hate the idea of her father. You supposed it would be easier for her to accept her father doesn’t know she exists, rather than to accept her father is a mass murderer in prison for life.

Then you got an owl from Remus Lupin—someone you hadn’t heard from in over a decade—asking to have lunch and talk. You were surprised but receptive. You assumed he met Estelle at Hogwarts and he wanted to know of her lineage under the guise of catching up, and you were half right.

After having Estelle in class and putting two and two together, Remus decided to get in touch with you to tell you the truth about Sirius.

After taking in all of the new information, you felt numb. It’s a lot to take in—learning that Sirius is innocent, and Peter Pettigrew of all people was the one to cause all of this pain.

You came home, politely asked Estelle how her day was, and barely heard her as she told you about the stray dog she found today. Too lost in your thoughts, you ‘listened’ to Estelle’s rambling for about ten minutes before realizing she was talking about Sirius’s animagus.

It had to be Sirius. Why else would there be a giant, wolf-like black dog hanging around your house?

You pretended to Estelle that you’d never seen the dog before, and maybe he belongs to some of the muggles that live further up the road. You carry on your evening as normal, quickly changing the subject anytime she began to talk about the dog, and had her go to bed at a reasonable time.

Only when you were sure Estelle was asleep did you come outside.

You suppose you’ve been staring too long as Sirius speaks up first. It’s hard to read his expression, and his voice is deeper than you remember. “I’d ask how have you been, but clearly you’ve been busy.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, urging yourself not to cry. After meeting with Remus and immediately coming home to Estelle, you haven’t had any time to process the information you’ve been given.

There were so many times you’d asked yourself “What if Sirius were still here?” and then immediately pushed the thought away, reminding yourself he’s a horrible man. A traitor and a murderer.

Only he’s not. He’s none of those things.

He’s suffered terrible consequences that he’s done nothing to deserve, and that’s heartbreaking. The last thirteen years of his life were ripped away from him and he was sent to live in horrid conditions, just because he and James chose to trust Peter with something they shouldn’t have.

A heavy weight of guilt drops into your stomach. Sirius had done nothing wrong and yet everyone—including yourself—thought he got what he deserved by being locked away. You hardly even thought to question whether he was truly guilty or not.

Your throat tightens and your lip quivers, and you step forward to wrap your arms around his waist. You can feel the bones underneath his skin, and you sniffle, feeling a couple of tears escape from your eyes.

Sirius takes a moment to respond, a little shocked by your sudden hug and crying. He supposes it’s not unwarranted though.

He reciprocates your hug, one dirty hand cradling the back of your head and the other wrapped around your torso. It’s almost strange how natural it feels. He rests his chin on the top of your head and faintly smiles. You smell good, and it’s wonderful to get such an unexpectedly warm welcome.

Although he has Remus to thank for that. If Remus hadn’t reached out to you first, Sirius imagines this meeting would be going a lot differently.

After a few moments of letting yourself cry into his chest, you finally speak, your voice cracking a bit as you do so. “You smell like shit.”

Sirius gives you a tight squeeze and chuckles quietly, “You live in a cave for a year and we’ll see how you fare.”

You purse your lips and feel more tears forming. He’s been living in a cave? Your throat feels tight as you breathe, “I’m so sorry, Sirius… For everything.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done.” He responds immediately. There was no way for you to know the truth, and even if you did, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything. “…Did you know you were expecting when it happened?”

You shake your head. “No. Didn’t figure it out until a few weeks after you’d been gone.”

“I-… I can’t find the words to tell you how sorry I am.” Sirius whispers. His adam’s apple bobs. “I can’t say when, but I promise I’ll come back to the both of you.”

“I know you will.” You say quietly, nodding. You knew from the beginning he wouldn’t be able to stay, but it still hurts nonetheless. New tears fall onto your cheeks and Sirius’s prisoner robes.

You cry less for yourself and more for him. Even though he’s successfully crawled his way out of Hell, he still can’t rest. Sirius hasn’t known peace in over a decade, and there’s no telling if he ever will again.

Sirius is the first to pull away. Trying to remain strong for your sake, he clenches his jaw as he looks down at your tearful face. He uses his thumbs to wipe the tears off your cheeks, then he pulls your face forward for a kiss. You waste no time reciprocating, your hands moving to the back of his head and tangling in his greasy hair.

Once again Sirius is the first to pull away, ending the kiss too soon for his liking, but knowing he needs to go. He’s been here far too long. He kisses your forehead. “I love you, and I love Estelle.”

“I love you, Sirius.” You reply, looking into his eyes. They’re the same eyes you see every time you look at your daughter.

“This isn’t goodbye.” He says kissing your forehead once more. He steps off your property and out of the confines of the anti-apparation wards. He gives you one last look, then winks. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way.”

You scoff, a stupid grin forming on your face as he disapperates.

You stare at the spot he left from, wiping your tears away.

Realistically, you don’t know if Sirius will be able to keep his promise. You may never see him again. There’s no telling if his name will ever be cleared, but you hold onto hope, and you will wait for him.

[frythatrice]

Guys I'm fucking losing my mind. Is Toriko blonde? More specifically, does Sorawo actually know Toriko's natural hair color?

In volume 1, when they meet for the first time, Sorawo describes Toriko's hair as "pretty for a dye job". This is the only instance in the whole series that implies her hair is dyed, it's never mentioned again. In volume 8, we see a video of primary/middle school Toriko, and her hair is blonde.

This implies one of the following statements is true:

Miyazawa intended for Toriko's hair to be dyed blonde originally, but changed his mind at some point.

Miyazawa intended for Toriko's hair to be dyed blonde originally, but straight up just forgot about it.

Toriko does dye her hair, as well as her eyelashes (which are described as blonde), and has been doing so since primary school, and all is right in the world.

Toriko, aside from her blonde hair and blue eyes, looks ethnically Japanese enough for Sorawo to falsely assume that she dyes her hair blonde.

Option 1 is possible but is both boring and feels unlikely given how insanely easy it would be to confirm Toriko's hair color if her natural hair color was intended to be unambiguous.

Option 2 would be really fucking unfortunate for my current and future mental state.

Option 3 feels unlikely for multiple reasons. If she's actually dyeing her hair, she's also doing it at such a frequency that Sorawo has never seen a hint of her natural hair color at the roots as her hair grows. Her dying her hair in primary school isn't totally out of the question, but it's still incredibly suspicious.

Option 4 would kill me, I think, and I'm seriously worried this is the correct answer. Given how astronomically dense Sorawo is, it's absolutely not out of the question that she saw someone who looked Japanese and just naturally assumed that she dyed her hair blond, and then never bothered to question this idea.

Option 4.5, aka she thought Toriko dyed her hair, forgot about that assumption, and just carried on thinking she's a natural blonde, honestly wouldn't be too out of character either, but it's also boring.

The idea that Sorawo might not know Toriko's natural hair color, as minuscule as that possibility really is, makes my fucking head hurt. The fact that it wouldn't be out of character, either, is too much for me. There's as many instances of Sorawo being dense in Otherside Picnic as there are grains of sand in the universe. If you picked up an omnibus and flipped to a random page, I'd be shocked if it didn't contain at least one. Some of them are genuinely groundbreaking.

If option 4 is true, and Sorawo brings it up in a future volume, there's a non-zero percent chance Toriko Nishina will materialize in the real world and beat Iori Miyazawa into a fine paste with her bare hands for making Sorawo the way she is. Just writing about the possibility is giving me psychic damage, if it comes true I don't think I'll be able to hold on to my corporeal form. At this point, I think the printers would fucking explode if they tried to put that possibility to paper.

It would mean that for 8 volumes or more, Sorawo has been comfortably sitting with the assumption that Toriko, the single most important person that has or ever will exist in her entire life, dyes her fucking hair, when she doesn't. Does it actually matter whether she does or not? Not at all, which is why to not spare even a single, fleeting thought to such a small detail and just carry on with a false assumption for 8 volumes straight might make Sorawo the single scariest entity in the universe, fictional or otherwise. At the very least I think Toriko would be teleported to the nearest hospital on hearing such information.

If option 2 is true, I'm going to be in fucking limbo forever.

If you have any information regarding Toriko's natural hair color, I'm fucking begging you, please share. My life is at stake here, and I don't know how exaggerated that statement is. Please drop me the relevant passage that completely dismantles this unhinged theory, or point out the obvious leap of logic I must have made at some point in this post, otherwise I might not be sleeping any time soon. Otherwise, help me find a way to get in touch with Miyazawa so I can smack him with wads of cash until he coughs up the answer.

[charmac]

curious - do you think rcg may have had any notion that they may seriously explore the possibility of mac being gay in s6 era? s5 functionally lays the majority of groundwork for the subtext that they evolved into canonical text and s6 opens with mac fights gay marriage and imo mac is pretty heavily gay coded throughout that season. however, s7 totally makes me believe they hadn’t really considered it, because mac’s gay subtext is almost completely nonexistent, bar the flashback from s6 in 7x10. he is overtly “straight” that season. clearly by s8 it’s fully canon and one of the most logical next steps they could’ve taken with his character in retrospect, but i have always wondered if many of the choices in s6 wrt mac’s sexuality becoming increasingly more ambiguous were deliberate and i’m curious about your perspective.

I do 100%! I've definitely spoken about this before... I'm not sure if it was here or a Discord or maybe even an in-person conversation, but I've always thought it was so insane how they tell you Mac and Dennis Break Up is romantic in some sense. They are realising that their codependency is more than some "bromance" and it spooks them (obviously, really more-so Dennis).

I think acknowledging it on TASP isn't a surprise, but the fact that it's stated in the DVD commentary, before they even filmed S6, makes it clear that this was intentional foundation they intended to work off of. When Dee shatters the glass closet by stating Dennis' codependency with Mac is viewed as an "old married couple" situation, it fucks Dennis up way more than Mac, because Mac is unable to recognise the queerness of their relationship while Dennis can.

Once they make up, they've established something in the writers room going forward for Mac & Dennis that they clearly want to keep a part of their dynamic (again, as reaffirmed on the MADBU TASP episode): they are gay for each other. But they're not going to (mutually) recognise or accept it, because that ruins the joke.

So, in my opinion, they go into Season 6 really digging into that dynamic and playing on the joke by pushing against it: Dennis recognises the issue of being into Mac internally so he needs a wife; Mac recognises the issue of being gay externally so he needs to fight the gays. No doubt in my mind that throughout S6 they were writing and acting with this idea - though probably with no firm idea of where they wanted it to end up.

So we get to Season 7, and your point is the reason why Season 7 is one of my least favourite Seasons as a coherent part of Sunny (keeping in mind the flashbacks in How Mac Got Fat are just a scrapped S6 episode, reworked) - it seems to ignore a lot of the build up in order to make funny stand-alone episodes of the show. Was it because of Fat Mac? (Only one identity at a time for Mac, pls!) Is it because they had a chunk of guest writers? Is it because they thought there was a large chance it was the final season of the show? (They've talked about how when they shot the final scene for S7 (HS Reunion) it was under the idea that they might not get renewed)

Probably only RCG truly know (and maybe they don't even remember). As for me, while I don't think it was necessarily deliberate, like they sat down and said "actually lets roll back the gay [Mac] stuff here..." my idea is that going into S7 they hadn't yet figured out (or couldn't agree) if/how they wanted to make Mac's homosexuality crystal clear.

Maybe they dropped it for a season before deciding... or maybe this downtime served a purpose, because the reveals on Sunny serve one main goal: Subvert expectations.

Going from S5/6 to 8 is very obvious. That is a closeted gay guy. BUT when you have S7 cut in there in the middle, this working-season where they kind of play hard into Mac's aggressive temper and his stupidity and the fact that he's a voyeur, it's a little less-so. You're hit with Season 8 and that attempted kiss kind of comes out of nowhere and then every episode following has some kind of Mac is GAY moment and it's just extremely funny... Like, oh holy shit he's gay and he can't even recognise it.

But that gap does kinda throw you off like, was this a decision once they got renewed going forward that they needed one of them to be obviously gay based on their history? I really don’t think so, the foundation seems too intentional and the evidence we have that RCG acknowledged the character’s queerness (of all them) back then is enough to have me firmly believe the S6 stuff was just further groundwork for Mac’s character and his and Dennis’ opposing relationship

[theherosdreams]

While training in the gym at home, it came to mind how our workouts always end, when Mom and Dad are out and we have the whole place to ourselves. Honestly, I don't know how they don't notice the smell of sex when they come back. Or they will think it's the smell of sweat, I don't know.

What I'm sure of is that they don't suspect anything. I know this because I think I know our parents. Maybe Dad, with his training as a psychologist, would react more calmly. But Mom, what makes Mary Cooper look like an atheist? No, they have no idea.

Anyway, training is not the same without you.

This out-of-state trip of yours has me unnerved. I think it's the first time in our lives that we're going to be apart for so long and I... I'm not taking it well.

I miss you. To you, to your hands and to everything else.

Cybering is not the same AT ALL.

[dracure]

midweek snippet

ty @honeybcj for the tag :)

i’m not working on anything atm but here’s a snippet of something old i wrote

“On a scale of one to ten, how high are you?" asked Barty, giggling as he extended his arm to try and steady himself against a tree after nearly tripping over its roots.

Evan felt much the same, unable to answer before stumbling on grass and dirt as he walked towards Barty. Whoever suggested that they'd be able to fend off any threats in the Forbidden Forest with just their wands was sorely mistaken after neglecting to consider how high they might become, but concern or fear was far from Evan's mind. Well, it would be, when he felt the way he did. "I feel so, so marvellous," he slurred, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Me too," Barty said, resting his whole body against the tree. He tilted his head back to stare up at the sky above them. Then his haze dropped back to Evan, who stared back at him, bug-eyes. "So, we're supposed to, like, make out, right?" asked Barty.

Right. 7 minutes in heaven, but instead of a closet, it was the Forbidden Forest. Who’s idea was this again? All Evan can really remember is sitting in a circle with other 5th and 6th years in the grass on the castle grounds. Barty was sat almost exactly opposite him, smiling cunningly at Evan. Then Pandora spun the bottle and it landed, first on Evan, and the hair on his arms stood up on end before the bottle landed next on Barty, and Evan could relax. “What if you get all horny and want more?” he asked Barty now.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Barty said, although he was practically falling over as he looked at Evan, all sappy and awed. “You like boys, I like boys. Let’s make out.”

“Barty, you are so high.”

“So are you,” Barty stated. “Oh, well. We don’t have to, I suppose.”

Yeah they don’t have to, but the thing is, Evan doesn't not want to kiss Barty. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about doing it before.

"Do you want to?" asked Barty then. “It could be fun."

Evan realised Barty was waiting for an answer, waiting for Evan’s decision. He blinked at Barty’s indifference on the matter, opened his mouth to say something. Say what? He had no clue.

As Evan watched him, Barty shifted his gaze away from him to stare back up at the sky. Evan takes the opportunity to try to process it all, then decide whether kissing Barty would be a significant mistake or not.

Instead of making a rational decision, because they were running out if time after all, Evan walked up to Barty, confident in his stride before he gripped the folds in his robes, directing Barty's attention back onto him. A moment passed where they stared at each other, breathing deeply with flustered pink cheeks. Evan glances at Barty’s lips, soft and oddly gentle looking. Evan took a final step towards him, and both of them looked vast eagerness as they connected their lips.

i can’t think of who to tag now but anyone is welcome to <3

[hoiststowline]

mercy's shore

ratchet x female!reader

originally posted on my ao3 here!

"What is the point of having your number if you never pick up the fragging phone?" Startled, your hold on the device wavers as you yank it away from your ear, his volume loud and displeased. "I've been trying to contact you all damn morning, where have you been?" 

His grouchiness overlays his concern, but it's not as heavy as it normally is, bearable to a wide extent. "Sorry. I got caught up with something, but I have a free minute. What's up?"

Ratchet sputters, and his engine revs theatrically in the background alerting you that he's driving, likely on the way to your house. "Oh, you can spare me a minute?" That may not have been the best sentence to say, even in your delirious state. "And you got 'caught up with something?' y/n, that is probably the poorest excuse I've ever heard, and trust me, I've heard it all." 

Your nose wrinkles, carefully surveying your options in the next reply you dare provide. It would appear no matter what you said unless it was the plain truth, it would not satisfy the doctor. "I...can I try again?" It comes out eventually, meek and stifled with exhaustion alongside a bout of attempted humor. 

"Can you what?!" Wrong choice slapping you profoundly in the face, the phone moves apart from your ear as he shouts. "Did you hit your head? What the scrap is the matter with you?" 

Sighing, you stand off the couch, hesitantly bringing the phone back to your ear, achy joints expecting his anger to flare once more. "It's been a long day," You start, pausing in case he decides to interject. "I was sleeping when you called, I really am sorry."

"It is only two in the afternoon," It's quieter, but still overmuch alarmed. "And sleeping? This isn't like you. I know your schedule very well, you don't take your 'naps' at this time of day." The fact that Ratchet claims to know your schedule is amusing, but you don't have the energy to tease him for the sentiment. 

"I was-" You move around the furniture, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. "I was tired, Ratch. I didn't get much sleep last night." Part of you questioned if divulging the medic was the best idea, for he would only insist upon checking you over and monitoring your symptoms if he found any. 

"And why is that? Assignments, or work-related activities?" Unable to remember the last time you felt such fatigue, the only thing you wanted at this very moment was to go back to sleep, alone, in a dark room. "It better not have been to watch garbage on television." 

"That doesn't matter." You start, knowing what comes next. 

"It does." Going to argue back, you spin to the window in the kitchen as the tell-tale sound of a truck coming down the road reaches your ears. "Open the garage, now. I'm outside."

Groaning, the line clicks dead, leaving no option available to defend the idea that you were fine. You could hide, and claim you weren't home, but you know he's seen your car in the driveway already, and he wouldn't leave until he saw you. With dread, you watch the red and white ambulance pull onto the pavement, radiating the vibe that you were really in for it this afternoon. 

"Hi Ratchet," Your palm hits the button that opens the garage door, exasperation filling your tone as he pulls inside. "So kind of you to say you were dropping by."

"Hush up, I've just about had it with your nonsense." He doesn't mean it, because he wouldn't be here if he did. "If you run and lock yourself inside like last time, I will throw something at you." 

The idea had crossed your mind, but you knew it was all in vain, even if you did try such an escape. "Yeah, okay. I'll just remember to wash you with paint stripper next time around." 

"That is not funny." His passenger-side door pops open, impatience showing clear as day. "Get in y/n. And it's not a request." 

Your hand squeezes into a fist, but relents, knowing you were at the end of a losing battle. "Fine. Can I go get my bag, at least?"

As if he was anticipating you to quarrel with him, Ratchet begins his sentence without thinking. "I just said-!" When he processes your words, his voice box spatters, followed by an ex-vent. "Very well. But don't try anything, I'll be waiting." 

You disappear back through the interior garage door, back into your kitchen, and out of Ratchet's line of sight. In his initial investigation, your outward appearance seemed normal, with no obvious signs of trauma or injury. Still, you did have an aura of distress and melancholy, even if you were bickering with him habitually. Ratchet reviews his options, mindful of what he understood was the best solution to your long day, and after a few kliks pass, you return to the garage, bag on your shoulder as you close the door over behind you. 

"Told you I'd be right back," Shuffling around the ambulance, you step up into his cabin, sliding into the seat as the door swings shut. 

"I have validation for my wariness." His center console blinks as he speaks. "If you must sleep, go ahead. I'll be quiet."

"I'm good," Head tilting back, you're met with the soft beige of the headrest, and seatbelt clicking over your waist. "I'm sure you'll give me a run for my money when we get back to the base, so I'll sleep after." 

"You're lucky that I don't understand that idiom, or I'd probably leave you on the side of the road." Another jab he has no intention of following through with. "Are you going to discuss then why you are so exhausted? And don't give me the scrap about how you didn't sleep well. I know that. I want to know what was keeping you up."

The urge to scream at him 'You aren't my doctor' is nearly irresistible. You physically have to bite your lip, staring out the window with declination in your body language, but you have to take a step back to confront the larger picture. Ratchet hardly ever left the base, and it appears this journey was made entirely on your behalf, but the reason you felt so coddled and overwhelmed was because he was demonstrating compassion the only way he knew how. Ratchet was a worrier at heart, and him coming out here because he couldn't get ahold of you made guilt settle in the bottom of your stomach. 

"I know you're not ignoring me, y/n." His voice is flat as the seat nudges your back. "You're on such thin ice, I-"

"I'm sorry." It comes out a bit more warble than you intend, watching as his rearview mirror tilts downwards to look at you. "I was up all night overthinking. My brain was going a hundred miles a minute, I-" Your voice hitches, swallowing down a sob that rises in your throat. "You were only trying to help. I'm sorry." 

Ratchet doesn't reply immediately, but the mirror doesn't move from its position. Eventually, he ex-vents, and you can picture him hanging his helm in a defeated manner, unsure of what he could possibly say to make you feel better. 

"I should have just told you." You say quietly, looking back out the window. "It really has been a long day, but I'm okay now, Ratch. I swear, I would never lie to you."

"I know that." It's insistent, but he cannot get the image of you near tears out of his processor. "I would still like to review your vitals back on base, just to make sure you truly are fine."

A soft smile crawls onto your rosy cheeks, nodding twice. "Sure, if it'll give you better piece of mind."

"You're going to be the death of me yet, y/n." Your window rolls down halfway, enjoying the breeze that hits your face. "Would you rest better at the base, or shall I take you back home after the evaluation?" 

"Are you going to take a nap with me?" You blink, silently begging him to say yes. 

"That wasn't an option." He comes to a stop at a red light. "You have two. Pick one."

"You asked where I would sleep better?" Ratchet knows he shouldn't entertain this, but he dares to answer. 

"Yes. Pick one, or I'll pick for you." He makes the left turn as the light switches green. 

"In your arms," A pout overcomes your face as he barks a laugh, obviously unamused. 

"Forget I asked. I'm taking you back home straight after." The pout melds into a scowl, but you relent, leaning back into his seat as the two of you roll down desert roads. You knew you could do better damage at the base, eyelids drooping as a yawn builds in your mouth. Maybe you would be able to better convince him in person, but for now, you take it with stride as the cool afternoon air swipes across your face.