#also damn!! why are these so compressed!!!!!!!!

[burnt-grapes]

Little daniil & artemy doodles featuring One (1) clara

[lusalemaart]

🥛🍔

[yndrgrl]

your classmate, yandere! bakugou, is deeply & utterly infatuated w/ shy, little you, & he isn't afraid to tell you just how much you occupy his mind.

fem! reader. quirkless! au. ooc! bakugou. long ass fic. soft! yandere.

a/n: based on this video (https://youtu.be/BoHAw_pEtOA), i'm literally OBSESSED w/ it. it's like, imagine being so stunning to someone that you're on their mind 24/7 like GAHHH WHAT.

warnings: slightly disturbing content, nsfw, dirty talk, stalking, swearing, very much "joe goldberg" vibes, smut asf, male masturbation, degrading, sexsexsex, gagging, praise

----

you are sweet. you are a gentle, kind soul-- so shy & reserved. to the big, bad katsuki bakugou, you are truly eye-catching. the way you didn't draw attention to yourself & yet would say the most profound things during online discussion posts made him wonder what was going on in that cute, little head of yours.

the way you're just the complete opposite of him made him crave you.

the first time he noticed you, you walked through the classroom door with your bulky headphones on that were clearly a part of your first-day-of-school outfit. enthralled was the only way he could describe how he felt. maybe shocked as well. how could someone so beautiful just walk into class?

he scoffed at his own thoughts, knowing damn well if he heard kirishima or denki say anything like that, he would've rolled his eyes. if she's beautiful, he thought, then she must have a terrible personality that i don't want to get to know.

unluckily -but also luckily- you were assigned the seat right beside him. you, with your pearly, white teeth, flashed him a courteous smile. you placed your bag on the floor, shrunk into your seat, & pulled out your binder.

what. a. nerd. katsuki laughed in his head. he could already read you like a book, he believed. a goody-two-shoes who stutters after every word, no confidence, & lives in her own little bubble, is what he deducted.

& yet he couldn't help but notice how fragrant your perfume smelled. it reminds him of a time when he was at peace, without a worry in the world. "god, how much perfume does a girl need," katsuki loudly said.

it took you a second to register that, beyond the music playing through the speakers of your headphones, there was a voice muffled. slipping your headphones down around your neck, you questioned, "i'm sorry, did you say something?"

"whatever," katsuki mumbled beside you. you felt bad, not meaning to ignore him. however, before you got the chance to apologize, the bell rang, & the professor walked to the front of the classroom. a professor that he could already tel he would hate, by the way.

that was the first day of the semester.

katsuki saw you everywhere after that. it's not like he wanted to or anything. the campus should have been big enough for the both of you, but it wasn't. he would see you at lunch with your goody-goody friends, or walking back to your dorm building with your heavy bag, or in different classes that you didn't sit with him.

one day, as the days grew slightly colder, katsuki needed to blow off some steam. he didn't know what was making him pent up. correction: he didn't want to admit that he knew why he was all pent up. since when can a person can make the great katsuki bakugou pent up?

since the first day of the semester, that's when.

bakugou, in a tight-fitting compression shirt & sweatpants, sauntered into the campus gym with his army green duffel bag slung over his shoulder. at this time of day -that being 6 in the morning- the gym was bare. only the early birds & forced athletes occupied the gym.

& apparently, so did nerds.

there you were, in all your glory. you wore black leggings that accentuated your legs. your silky, soft hair held up by a clear claw clip. your beaten up converse told the story that you are an avid gym-goer.

stationed in front of one of the only squat wracks that had a window view, the morning sunlight gazed upon your features. the soft hue made bakugou choke on his own spit. as he gawked your stature, he watched as you took sips from your water bottle. then he watched as you went to the bar, ducked under, & got ready to squat. he felt something twitch as you began your set.

"hey, bakugou~" a feminine voice spoke, causing him to almost jump. he shifted his bag so it hung in front of him. "whatcha doooing?"

"mina, what does it look like?" he scoffed.

"it looks like you were staring at-"

he cut her off. "i wasn't staring at anyone. it's just weird to see nerds like her in the gym."

"nerds like her?" she questioned, then she quickly changed the subject, "whatever, you're gonna work out with me & kiri, right?"

after that, bakugou deducted you were an anomaly. he learned how kind & attentive you are when he just so happened to read a text you sent out between you & a friend. he learned how confident you truly can be when you believe it's just you-- no eyes looking at you. he learned that your reputation was the opposite of his.

you see, bakugou was rough around the edges, to put it softly. he wore edgy clothing that made heads turn, thanks to his fashion designer parents, of course. he was proud to show off how big his muscles were & how many tattoos & scars littered his skin. he often skipped lectures, which didn't matter in the end because of his high scores on the exams.

on the other hand, you were just a beam of heaven-gate sunlight. always getting the best grades, acing tests, showing up on time, & taking pretty notes with pens, no need for pencils because you never mess up. you were also quiet, almost seeming untouchable.

the first time he caught himself truly thinking about you was late at night. he fell asleep on his dorm bed after a day of ditching classes. soon, images popped into the black void. it was a blur, colors mashing together until it was clear. there you stood, a gasp escaping your pink lips. it was as though he was watching a movie of himself.

he touched your body, scorching your skin with a red blush. he squeezed your thighs, your ass, your tits. nowhere left untouched, & you liked it. your fingers tangled themselves into his blonde tresses. you pulled him closer & begged in his ear to stick his heavy cock into your sopping pussy.

he awoke, breath heavy & a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. his dick was still incredibly hard. it was almost painful. his roommate/classmate/best buddy, kirishima already left for his early morning class & wouldn't be back until later that afternoon. katsuki knew that.

in hopes to dull the pain, he took his cock into his hand & started jerking it. though it helped, he needed something more. he took a breath, & with his other hand, he unlocked his phone & went onto instagram-- your instagram.

the most recent picture you posted was from summer. it was a college of the outfits you wore & activities you've done before fall semester. his favorite one was a candid your friend must've took. you were on the beach surrounded by people katsuki didn't care about. you were in such a scandalous swim suit that left little to the imagination. it was taken from behind so it shamelessly displayed how your swim bottoms did nothing but cover your important bits.

god, what he would do to you if he ever saw you in the swimsuit. he would bend you over, slip your bikini bottoms to the side (because he couldn't waste any time taking it off) & fuck you senseless in front of everyone. he would make you clean off his dick with that pretty, little mouth of yours. he would-

he came. he came all over his abs, & yet his cock was still throbbing. still beating for you. "shit," he whispered. as much as he hated it, katsuki was often self aware of his emotions. it's a nerdy thing to do, he knows. however, after finishing to the thought of you, he knows that he's obsessed with you, & there's nothing he can do so why fight it?

it was another day, another lecture. there sat katsuki, slumped in his seat before you even entered the class. as you did, he watched as your beautiful eyes connected with his & widen with shock. he hasn't been in class in a week, there was no big exam in class, so you were curious why he even showed up.

walking towards your desk with your eyes averted to the floor, katsuki took your figure in. he still couldn't get over how your fashion sense reflected your personality, your aura, perfectly. you seemed so comfortable, nearly confident & he loved it.

you knew he was staring; it would've been unnerving if it were anyone else. however, you found katsuki unbelievably attractive. you were flattered-- of course. what if i'm just being delusional, you wondered, denying that he was looking at you. curiosity would've gotten the better of you if you could hold eye contact though.

you sat in your seat beside him. as per usual, you took out your binder of notes, your colored pens, & placed your headphones around your neck like you do every day in this class. the professor announced that, because it is a communications class, it's important that everyone communicates. the assignment was to create a simple, few-slide presentation introducing your passion project for the rest of the year. dedication at its finest, everyone. it was an easy assignment that required nothing but a few sentences pulled out of your ass & a slides template you can download online.

as soon as he was done with his expectations for it, he let his students loose. the professor was clearly not in the mood to teach for whatever reason. you considered it a blessing because you have stacks of homework & a pile of laundry waiting for you after classes.

you pulled out your laptop you've had since forever. after signing in, you started immediately on the project. it's better to get it out of the way then to forget about it, you told yourself.

you were about to slip your headphones back on when someone questioned, "what are you doing yours on?"

it took you a second to realize it was your deskmate. it took you two to realize he was talking to you.

"um... i'm sorry?" you looked at him, confused. you didn't have any friends in this class. not that you minded.

the blonde hard head scoffed & said, "god, are you deaf? what are you doing your project about?"

"oh, um," you looked back at your computer. the blinking edit line taunting you. "i don't really know yet."

"tch, really? we're almost a month into this class," he responded. "i expected a nerd like you to be already on the last assignment for the year."

"i-i haven't really found the time, i guess."

"yeah right, don't sweat it with an explanation, nerd."

there was a silence, a silence you decided to fill.

"... what's your project about?"

"none of your damn business," he said back. that's your sign you never talk in the class again.

"hm right, just asking," you muttered, going back to brainstorming ideas you could build upon for the next year that doesn't sound too niche. or maybe you want to do something so niche that no one would know if you were right or wrong. so many options.

"i'm gonna do mine on chemical explosives."

he was talking to you again. does that mean he wants to talk with you? only you? you were looking to far into it, but you couldn't help but blush.

"oh wow, that's pretty hardcore," you responded quietly, as not to disrupt everyone else's small conversations. "what made you choose that?"

"it's a passion project; that's a passion of mine," he said as-a-matter-of-factly. he was so reserved, it only added to his bad boy charm.

you took a deep breath, deciding to -for the first time in your college life- to put yourself out there & pointed out, "the curriculum says we have to present our projects to someone of our choosing... would you want to present it to each other?"

fireworks.

you asked that & it felt as though fireworks blew up in katsuki's heart. his stoic face didn't show just how excited he was that you were the one to ask him. if you asked him to be his partner, then you've clearly been thinking of him, & if you're thinking of him, you're practically all his, &-

"yeah, whatever. you better have an interesting passion project."

that was the very first, full-blown conversation the two of you shared.

katsuki replays that moment in his head, thinks about what he should've said differently, about how he would've made a move if the two of you were alone (which he probably wouldn't have).

you ran even more rampantly in his mind. every thought crossed back to you. he constantly wondered how you were doing, what were you doing, who you were with. it drove him mad, giving him a headache. there was no medication he could take to soothe it. he found that he was only at ease when you were in sight or ear shot.

you were his clarity, & what sane person lets their clarity go? it started out small & in such a subconscious way.

katsuki was wandering the campus as he waited for his friends to get out of class when he spotted you. you must have a thing for windows because you sat on a lounge chair facing the grand window in the library. you were focused on your computer screen, so unaware of your surroundings. your brows furrowed, probably thinking about your passion project. your earbuds played whatever podcast you decided to listen to.

so, you're studying by yourself, katsuki took a mental note of that. when he did, he felt the pressure on his temples relieve. he entered the library for no other reason than you. you didn't notice him, why would you? he sat on a table behind you with his phone in his hand. katsuki's ruby eyes darted around the library before opening his camera & snapping a quick photo of you. he told himself that it would be the last time he would take a photo of you like that.

he lied to himself.

as the school year continued on, his private folder of sneaky pictures of you only grew & grew. at first, it was once every so often, but addiction kills, & he just couldn't stop.

the change that came with you was noticeable. the usually brash & unpredictable katsuki was now collected & cool. one thing that didn't change was the permanent scowl etched on his face.

his friends could see through his one-note facial expression. so it was only natural that, during a hangout in one of the dorms, they would ask, "you good?"

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?" katsuki retorted, popping a hot cheeto into his mouth while he focused on the small tv screen. katsuki wanted nothing more than to have you under his arm at the moment.

denki chimed in, "well it's just that you haven't called anyone stupid yet."

"thought you guys would be happy i didn't insult you," he rolled his eyes.

"bakubro, you can tell us anything. we've all gone through a lot together-" kirishima was cut off.

"yeah i know, there's just nothing to tell."

katsuki noticed his friends glance at each other, unconvinced. he supposes he can't blame them; he is acting so strangely afterall.

"how do i say this-" kirishima (poor man) was cut off again-- this time by mina.

"do you like someone?" she snickered. out of all the things she could've asked, that was one of the last things he thought she would ask.

"what? no! i don't like anyone," he said defensively.

"then are you lonely? i can set you up with someone," mina pulled out her phone & started pulling up a picture of said someone, "let me show you her."

"no i'm not lonely either, raccoon eyes! it's none of your damn business!" he shouted, honestly sickened at the thought of being intimate & romantic with someone who wasn't you.

"are you sure~?" mina dragged the last word out in a sing-songy voice.

"yes."

"don't be mad-"

"what the fuck did you do?"

"i already invited her," mina chuckled, quickly stuffing her phone into her back pants pocket.

"WHAT?" katsuki shouted. what would you think? would you even care?

"listen, she's a really sweet girl, & i think that-" mina's defenses were cut short by the angry hot head.

"i don't care, tell her she's uninvited or something." it really wasn't that difficult.

mina stayed silent. katsuki already knew why. as if on cue, there was a knock on the door. "i was only kidding with you, ya big baby. i just invited another girl, no date required," mina joked. she muttered right after, "hopefully you two will hit it off so you're not so grumpy."

kirishima opened the door right as bakugou yelled, "what was that, you pinkie pie bitch?" the sakura-haired girl waved him off, popping to her feet to greet her guest.

she cheered, "y/n!" mina threw her hands up & stepped towards you for a hug. katsuki's head snapped towards the door, cheeks slightly pink because he knew that you heard his outburst.

"hi, mina" you softly said, accepting the hug. you wore loungewear; you wore a black crew neck with a rib cage vinyl design & shorts. "thanks for inviting me."

"of course! let me introduce you to everyone!" she ushered you inside the dorm room, & kirishima shut the door behind you. "that one," she points to the man who shut the door, "is kirishima." he smiled his classic, toothy grin. "that's sero, right next to him is denki," she said. they both -with mouths stuffed with snacks & hands occupied with controllers- said a brief "hi."

"& that one is-"

"i know her already." katsuki had a habit of cutting off his friends. was it polite? no, not in the slightest. did he care? no, he did not. "we're classmates."

"oh, um... i didn't know you were gonna be here," you admitted, cheeks flushed in shock.

"oi! you stalking me now, nerd?"

"no, not at all!" you quickly defended. you really didn't know he was going to be sitting in front of you, he knew that.

mina stepped in, "be nice to her, bakugou! i'm trying to make new friends, remember?"

"yeah, yeah, i remember you yappin' about it," bakugou responded as he laid back onto the dorm bed. he felt your eyes on him. just your mere attention got him riled up. he didn't know how to handle it. he felt as though he were burning up. his eyes shot towards your figure, eyes locking with your deep ones. "quit staring."

"i don't mean to stare-"

"get over yourself, bakubro," kirishima joked. he chucked a throw pillow mina insisted they get to "liven the sad, jail cell of a room."

that night, katsuki couldn't help but stare. hypocrite, he knows. but he just couldn't look away. you were a magnetic force, chipping away at his self-control. even with such modest clothing, he still found himself yearning for your body, your mind, your entire being as you already had his.

time flew by fast. he could tell you were slowly getting used to the dynamic his friend group shared. your shoulders slumped throughout the evening, & you sat without your hands in your lap. denki even got you to play a round of mario kart against mina. though you didn't like being in the spotlight, you thought it was fun seeing everyone's shocked faces after you beat the self-proclaimed queen of nintendo.

the night came to a close after kirishima, denki, & sero passed out on the floor while mina slept on the bed. you fought sleep, eyelids drooping with every passing second.

"tired?" katsuki questioned. he chuckled when you suddenly turned alert.

sheepishly, you confirmed, "yeah, just a bit. i think i'm gonna head back to my dorm."

"waking up your roommate isn't very nice of you," katsuki pointed out.

"my roommate dropped out, & they haven't assigned me a new one."

"is that so?"

you stuffed your keys into your left pocket & your phone in your right before replying, "yeah, lucky me. dorm room all to myself for the semester."

"what building?" dumb question, katsuki already knew what building you lived in.

"building b, floor three," you told him. you stood up & slipped on your slides. "i really should get going. weirdos start coming out at this time."

there was a silence that followed. in katsuki's head, the gears were grinding. never has he thought so much about a decision pertaining another person in his life. would it be too pushy if he walked you back? would he be shitty if he didn't?

"fuck it," he whispered. it was so quiet in the room that you heard him clearly. "let me walk you," he spoke with more clarity.

"you really don't have to!" you didn't know he was going to offer you such a thing. "i mean it, really. i have a mace keychain-" katsuki stood up & threw on a random hoodie that was on his chair as you rambled, tiredness getting to you, "-& i have my phone so i can call the police."

"just shut up & let's go."

the walk, at first, was awkward, to say the least. the night was still, no breeze to dance with the crusting leaves. there was no one in sight, nor were there cars that zoomed past the university.

"if i would've known you were gonna walk me, i would've left earlier," you broke the silence in a hushed voice.

maybe it was because he was still awake hours past his bedtime, but katsuki responded in a softer way than expected. "did you have fun?"

"yes i did," you told him with a small smile.

"then don't worry about it."

he was so sweet to you in that moment that you couldn't help but swoon. cheeks stained pink as you averted your eyes.

katsuki stared at you through his peripheral, catching how you began to mess with the hem of your shirt.

soon enough, the two of you reached the dorm building. katsuki stood there, about to turn around when you quickly whispered, "wanna walk me up?" you gulped. you didn't even know if you could consider him a friend, & now you're practically barking orders at him; what's wrong with-

"of course."

you both reached your room. once again, in that precious voice of yours, you suggested, "you can stay the night here, if you want."

when he remained quiet (due to shock & a growing boner), you back tracked, "w-well because the extra bed is still in here, & you did me a favor so now i owe you, &-"

"i have a confession," he said, "invite me inside."

"o-oh, yeah of course," you stuttered, unlocking the door & opening it for him. you shut the door & locked it. "what do you have to tell me?"

you quickly pulled out another blanket while he sat in a chair.

katsuki experienced some things throughout his life. he experienced fights & competitions & other stupid shenanigans. he's been questioned by cops & dealt with firefighters. however, he's never felt this nervous in front of anyone. his heart leapt into his throat & used his skull as a pounding speaker. he could barely hear his own thoughts. "i don't know how you'll react."

"i won't get mad," you promised, curious. "if that's what you're worried about." you expected that, since it's confession hour or something, he'd reveal things about his past.

"i think about you, y/n." that's not what you were expecting. "i think about you all the fuckin' time."

"w-wha?" what more could you say? from behind, you heard shuffling then warmth & a looming figure. you turned around & met his eyes, trying to find if he was messing with you.

"& i can't stop thinking about you. at first, you were so annoying. with your little outfits & perfume & shit. i found you everywhere i went. i started looking out for you, wondering if you'll show your annoying, pretty face," he confessed. katsuki didn't break eye contact as he sandwiched you between him & your bed.

"you're such a goody-two-shoes. such a fuckin' nerd. but you're the only girl who's ever caught my attention, you know that? why is that?" katsuki's fingertips began to trace your clothed legs then up & under your sweatshirt. he leaned down to your ear, "are you okay with this?"

all you could do is nod, afraid that if you were to speak, it would come out as a mere squeak. he pulled away, staring into your eyes once more with his glowing ruby ones.

"good. i still don't know why it's you. maybe it's cuz of how hard you work, or how disgustingly nice you are no matter what. you're such an angel, & that must make me a demon then," he told you. you felt your entire being light on fire-- cheeks hot, ears red, & you needed to get out of your clothes. "god, let me be the one to taint you, to ruin you."

the blonde pulled you in close to his chest by wrapping his muscular arms around your frame. your hand grazed on a bulge in his pants & he jolted. "you feel that? that's how hard you get me during class."

muffled, you let out, "b-bakugou." & with those big, innocent eyes, you looked up at him.

"it's katsuki, baby."

"katsuki," you corrected yourself before continuing, "you mean all of this, r-right?" you felt tears well up & your throat tightening when you began thinking it was all a joke.

his love-drunk expression shifted into an offended one. "you think i'm sayin' all this shit cuz i think it's funny?"

"i-i don't know."

rough yet lovingly, he grabbed your chin & leaned in, noses centimeters away from each other. "this is real to me, & it will be real to you."

your gaze darted to his eyes, furrowed brows, his moonlit hair, then his lips. the moment you looked at his lips, he smashed his lips against yours. the force of his kids caused you to prop your elbows against the bed all while he snuck his knee between your legs. he pressed his thick thigh against the aching warmth.

you let out a muffled moan, & he mistakenly took that as an invite to roam your mouth with his tongue. you pushed it back with yours but, like in every other aspect besides academic, he dominated you.

the two of you ran out of air eventually. he pulled away, eyes half-lidded. "let me get you out of those clothes." he almost sounded needy, if your ears didn't deceive you.

"please, katsuki." that's all you had to say. it was like a command to him, & he was your ever loving soldier. he helped you take of your sweatshirt. gawking at your chest, you didn't wear a bra.

he scoffed with a smug smile, "sneaky girl." he saw right through you. it's true, you didn't wear a bra because of a fantasy you didn't know you were going to fulfill tonight. easy access. you wanted to give him easy access. "i knew there had to be something about you, & i figured it out."

he fondled your tits while he whispered in the crook of your neck, "you're a filthy slut, huh?" you nodded, grinding against his thigh; he chuckled before he started to mark your sensitive neck with hickeys upon hickeys.

at this point, it was getting hard to keep quiet. you knew it was only going to get harder from there. you bit your pink lip as a form of self restraint as katsuki took off his shirt & slipped off your sweatpants. you wore a lacy thong.

katsuki muttered, "oh fuck." he so badly needed you. his fingers rubbed your arousal through the fabric. he loved knowing that he made you so wet. his other hand pushed his boxers & pants down in one swift motion. katsuki needed to feel you around his poor, throbbing cock.

you might've had self restraint, but your lover didn't. he ripped the panties off of you & threw them somewhere in the dark room, not that he cared. if you were upset about it, he'll just buy you another pair he'd tear off. "fuck, y/n. i need you to tell me you want this- no you need this, need me."

you stroked his forearm with your fingers. this was so out of your comfort zone but you still managed to spit out, "i-i need you, katsu-"

there goes that habit of cutting you off again. he shoved his tip into, causing you squeal. he let you stretch, then stuck in more of his cock until you were finally well-adjusted to him. you felt the weight of cock inside you as your walls tightened around him.

you couldn't help but moan as a way of begging him to move. he demanded, "use your words, angel."

"katsuki~" you whined. his calloused hand clasped around your marked neck.

"tell me what you want, & you get to breath."

"y-you! i want you to fu-fuck me!" you choked out, eyes rolling to the back of you head as you desperately tried to breath. he let go, satisfied that you were slowly coming undone.

"such a quick learner," he praised, "i love hearing that voice of yours." you clenched around his hung prick.

he started to move, shallow humps turned into powerful, bed-rocking thrusts. he through your feet onto his shoulders while your wrists were held down to your sides with his hands. your brain turned into bimbo mush, babbling about how he needs to go harder, to keep going. katsuki happily obliged-- anything for his favorite girl.

every thrust your tits jiggled & your ass slapped against his hips. god, how was your body this divine? "such a good whore, handling my cock so good."

"k-katsuki, wanna cum- i'm cumming, i'm cumming!" you told him, scrunching your bed sheets under your grip. your mouth widened. with lightning speed, katsuki shoved something in your mouth; it was your ripped thong. the one you thought was lost in the room.

"fuck yeah," he moaned while he played with your clit. "cum all over my cock, i'm all yours." katsuki was so mean, yet so romantic. he ruined you so effortlessly & still managed to make you feel like you were a goddess amongst men.

you came. that wasn't the last time that night. he pulled out & flipped you over. "ass up, we're not done."

[newobsessionweekly]

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Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!firefighter!reader

Fandom: 911

Fluff, smut

Summary: They have to shower after each of their firefighting operations and Y/n keeps catching Buck half-naked so often, that she asks herself if Buck specifically want Y/n to see him. And things heat up after a call.

Warnings: Probably poor quality smut, descriptive sex, mentions of blood, injuries.

Requested: No

Words: 1.8k

Requests are open for Buck / Eddie !

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

“Ok, but there’s two of us now, how come we have to share the same changing room with you guys ?” Y/n stops Eddie from babbling, tired of being afraid someone would peek at her naked body once she’d go out of the shower. Speaking of, just for the record, the shower is shared too.

“Come on, it’s not that bad. Hen’s been sharing changing room with guys for ages! And not only with us, dealt with worse!” Buck turns his head to stare at you out of those washed-out blue eyes while still chewing on his food.

You can’t lie, it didn’t bother you that much to share the locker room with the sexiest firefighters of LA, what really bothers you are the sneaky peak you and Buck been sharing.

Buck was some of the most wished-for firefighters in town and you can’t blame all the girls that are throwing at his feet. With those ocean blue eyes, one painted with that mysterious scar making girls wonder what’s the story behind that bravery and only after they go through his bed are served with the truth; it’s just a birthmark. His muscles are showing up in that uniform, popping out and taking any breath away in a shirt. And not to talk about the uniform. Anyone looks sexy in a uniform.

Leaving behind the looks, Buck is the most selfless person you’ve ever met in your life. He’d do anything to save every single one in a case, no matter is he’s crashed by a car, train, building or any other hard thing that could end his life on spot. He’s always ready to take that risk. You, on the other hand, are ready to follow the instructions.

He’s the most reckless person, but his heart’s so big it wouldn’t stop beating soon. And he knows that. His heart is not only beating for him, to keep him alive, it’s also beating for all the people out in the world that need help, that need him.

What really bothers you are not the looks he’s giving you with any chance, but the electricity you feel run down your spine every damn time he’s around you or even looking at you. His reputation isn’t a secret and all you wanna do is to avoid getting hurt.

You were zoned out for a while, playing with the food and ignoring all the voices around you. Only one stood up in the crowd and you’d recognise even in your sleep.

As alarm echoed through the station announcing a car crash with possible multiple injured, you sipped out of your coffee cup and jump into the paramedic ambulance.

As you walk back into the station, covered in blood, you let the boys to take a shower first. You approach Buck, holding him back for an inspection.

“Could you be more reckless?” you hiss at him, looking down at his bruises and opened cut on his arm.

“I’m fine, Y/n. I just got the usual bruises.” you press a cold compress on his head before cleaning the cuts.

“And a concussion.” you rolled your eyes.

As he stood there, patiently waiting for you to get your job done, his blue eyes searched for your body. From head to toe, you are the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Smart too, very brave and bossy. Shame you didn’t want to stand up and ignore Bobby’s orders. You’d make a great team.

“You know I can take care of myself?” you did know that, what you didn’t know was why all of the sudden you decided to play the doctor on him.

You were scared when he jumped right in the middle of the flames to save a dog trapped inside a burning car. Your heart was racing like it would pop out of your chest any minute and your eyes filled with small tears. Just the smoke, you’d tell everyone.

When he returned safely with the small dog in his arms you could finally breathe out. All you wanted to do in that moment was to hug him and yell a little.

And yet, you didn’t know why your body would react that way.

“You’re all done right now. You should take a shower, you’re smelly.” he nodded.

“Thank you, doc!” he smiled.

You can’t help a smile, cheeks burning red. You liked that, all the funny names he called you all the time.

You made your way to the locker room, keeping your distance. Everyone was back in the kitchen upstairs, Eddie watching your moves. He could tell something’s going on between you two, all the looks, the way you’re inspecting Buck’s shirtless body, like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

You remained in your underwear before heading to the showers. You really need to take off the blood. Hearing the water running down, violently hitting the floor, you soon realise it was coming from your usual shower spot, seeing Buck’s shape beautifully contouring on the curtain’s surface.

“You took my shower!” you screamed at him.

“Sorry, doc! Problems with the other ones. They’re out of service.” Buck pokes his wet haired head out. “But you’ll free to join me, if you can’t wait!” he winks.

You can’t wait, the cold air embraces your naked skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Move!” you demand, joining Buck.

You were full grownups after all, a shower isn’t that big of a deal. You’ve seen him half-naked countless of times before and you suspect he’d seen you as well.

Hot water pouring down your body felt like heaven. Warmth hugging you as perfect as this moment was, not minding Buck’s glancing down at your side.

You peak at him, causing your body to burn up in excitement. Every inch of you desired to be touched and you finger tips aches to trace the shape of him. To help him get rid of the dirt, of course.

His hand touches your arm, cleaning the wound you’ve won yourself today.

“You’re injured.” Buck whispered, so close to you now, can feel the warmth of his freshly minted breath.

“Just a cut, I’ll live.” you joke. Looking up at him, water was framing his face so sinfully. You watched a small thread of water paint his nose, those red juicy lips, then going down his chest, stopping at the lower part of his abdomen. Your eyes locked on his erection, and your hands caressing up and down his worked arms.

Buck cupped your cheeks, locking his gaze in yours. Forehead touching, he searched for your permission before hungrily brushing your lips together.

You splay your hands across Buck’s chest as he swirls his tongue around yours. He got you already high over his touch, but the kissing in out of this world.

He press you gently on the cold wall, water still flowing down over both of you, sneaking under your touch. Your body trembles as his hands wanders up and down, memorising your curves. He stops for a moment over your breasts, caressing one by one very carefully, like he would want to remember their shape. You racked your nails through his messy wet hair and down across his back, his lips escaping a little needy moan.

Buck pauses, lips barely touching, taking his time to look in your eyes as his hand went down. “You’re so beautiful!” You breathe the same air, you share the same desire. He admires your intoxicating beauty while shoving his hand between your legs, making you break eye contact and throw your head in pleasure back into the wall.

His lips ghosts over your neck and your fingers lightly run over his abs and down to his erection. Buck kisses you hard, like his life depends on it, like he’s addicted to your touch and wants to feel your name on his skin a whole lifetime from now on.

Moans and desire flying in the air, Buck plays with your wetness before he impatiently lifts your hips up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist. You hold on into his shoulders, closing the distance between you, he pulled your hips up and down, setting a peace as he buried inside you.

Sinking into him, digging your fingers into Buck’s shoulder, the rhythm became incoherent as both of your bodies burned in indescribably pleasure. You want him as much as he wants you.

The Earth stops spinning and the whole world evolves around you two. That moment is about you and Buck, covered in exultation and savoury. You feel his pulse inside, fire pooling low in your abdomen, waiting for Buck to put it out for you.

He run his tongue over where your lips meet, your eyes running back in delight as your moans melts together under your kiss. A spring coiling tightly and then being release, both of you dissolving into pleasure under the hot warm water spreading your love into the air.

You stayed there, in that sweet embrace minutes before one of you could do something. You enjoyed the moment and rested on Buck’s arms, tears of joy welting with the water caressing your bodies. Buck didn’t want to let you go, afraid you’d disappear as soon as his eyes would open. Instead, he inhales your smell, so unforgettable. He’s convinced it’ll haunt his mind, his dreams, countless days from now on and he’s sure as hell he doesn’t want to forget any second you spent in that shower.

“I’m glad you came back safely today.” you murmured into the base of his neck, your fingers still lightly tracing his shape.

“Will always come back in one piece to you.” he answers, placing a soft kiss on your wet hair.

You raise your head, searching his beautiful eyes. Buck can’t help a smile, seeing you so vulnerable before him, still trusting him enough to let him admire you like that. He locked you lips again, this time so soft, afraid he’ll hurt you with just a touch. You melt on him with every touch.

“We should go back.” you broke the silence.

“Yeah, we should.” he agrees. “I’ll go first, take your time.” he kissed your cheek and disappeared behind the curtain.

When you returned to the kitchen, everyone was eating one of Bobby’s delicious meals. You grab yourself a plate and sat across Buck, avoiding his sight, afraid you’ll lose your sanity. You’re smelling like Buck and sex combined, the best combination you’ve ever smelled.

He locked your eyes and you both smiled like idiots, still drunk over the moment happened in shower, just minutes before, a few feet away from everyone else. But you don’t care, it was your moment.

“Don’t really wanna know what happened back there, you idiots! Stop devouring each other at table!” Chim jokes as your cheeks burn red again.

[lacedinweb22]

new ride 🏍️༻ (Miguel O’Hara x reader)

🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 3 prev part

author’s note: I had this hot vision of motorcycle Miguel last week then came across this artwork which completely cemented my idea. Check out the artist!!!! 💘🕸 ALSO this is a flashback chapter!!!

Summary: Your best friend/crush, Miguel, comes over to study with you. His arrival to your apartment surprises you, and gives you a new reason to procrastinate and get closer to him.  CW: none 

✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊

I looked down at our text conversation, pacing in my bedroom.

Miguel: I’m on my way from Alchemax :) give me 5

Me: Traffic is bad rn so drive safe :D I’ll be waiting in front  Me: Also it’s so dark out so drive carefully. don’t text and drive

I threw my phone on my bed and finished getting ready and cleaning up my place. I headed out and stood in front of my apartment complex, nearing the sidewalk so he could park and I could help him with his books and our lab equipment, though I knew he would reject my help.

I stared down the street waiting for Miguel when headlights approached, blinding me, and spotlighting me in the darkness. The dark blue motorcycle pulled up in front of me, parking exactly where Miguel was supposed to park. I shyly backed up into the grass to avoid blocking their path. I took a deep breath, “Sir, I was… saving this spot for a friend,” I blurted, attempting to be assertive. He took his helmet off, revealing Miguel under. "Oh yeah?" he asked, smirking as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "Miguel," I muttered, confused.

His wavy brown hair was messy, damp with sweat, cascading onto his face, and his cheeks were rosy. I admired his black fingerless gloves wrapped around his muscular hands, which gripped tightly around his motorcycle’s handlebars. He wore a compression shirt, snug around his biceps, and his dark gray pants that his crimson briefs peeked out of. He turned the engine off then got off of it. He grabbed his backpack and textbooks out from the back of the bike and slung it onto his shoulder, while I grabbed the heavy textbooks from his hands and continued to stare at him in awe.

I snapped myself out of it as Miguel looked at me through his furrowed brows, while he locked his helmet to his mirror. “Miguel, when were you going to– I mean– since when did you have a motorcycle?” I asked, interrogating him. “Since always,” he replied, shrugging. He walked past me and towards my apartment, avoiding my questions, and supporting his guiltiness. I chased after him.  

“No, you liar, I’ve never seen… When did you even…?” “Y/N, I always bring the car so you can ride with me. It would be too dangerous and… I wouldn’t want to risk anything with you,” he explained. “So you only drive your car… for me?” I asked, hiding how flattered I was. He nodded. 

“Okay but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve still been keeping this from me,” I shrugged, “I mean, Miguel, you’ve been living a double life. You’re a double-agent, double-crossing, traitor, backstabbing, liar,” I accused jokingly, chasing after him. I caught up to him at my door, as I watched him scoff and smile, avoiding me as he opened my apartment door and entered before me.

“You have to make it up to me,” I exclaimed, “I mean, don’t you think it would be a little fucked for you to drive over here with your fancy new ride, and rub it in my face just to not let me ride with you,” I said, shrugging, blocking his way. “And that is exactly why I kept it from you,” he said, sarcastically smiling, walking around me and into the kitchen. He dropped his backpack to the floor as I placed the pile of books onto the kitchen counter. He sat at the counter, dragging the textbooks in front of him, and opening them up, ready to study. “But– but–” “It’s not safe, Y/N,” he declared, firmly. “Damn, okay,” I muttered, sitting beside him, slumping and slowly opening up my notebook. I sighed and began to write. He turned to me then hung his head low, sighing to himself, and muttering in Spanish.

“You brat,” he said, as he stood up and slammed his textbook closed. He walked towards the front door, heading back to his motorcycle. I followed happily behind him. 

He stood beside his motorcycle, his hands on his hips, “Get over here,” he demanded. I walked quickly across the grass then arrived on the opposite side of his motorcycle, awaiting his instructions.

“Get on top,” he demanded. Never thought I’d hear him say those words. “Okay, geez” I muttered, slinging one leg across the bike, trying to climb up. He watched me struggle, his arms crossed, as he rolled his eyes. “Not all of us are fucking 6’9” Miguel, help me up,” I exclaimed, annoyed.

He came to my side of the bike, and put his hand underneath my thigh, lifting me up onto it. 

I sat on his bike, as he stood tall beside me. “Nice,” I said, nodding excitedly. “Good, now safety,” he said, pulling an extra helmet out from the back. He grabbed his helmet and rested it on my lap as he helped me put the spare on. He brushed my hair back, gently moving it out of my face and sliding the helmet onto me, adjusting it. He lifted the shield up so he could see my eyes. 

“Do I look cool?” I asked, grinning with my eyes. He stepped back, taking in the view of me hovering on his bike. “So cool… and kind of…” “hot,” I finished, confidently. “I feel like all-black was the way to go today,” I said, looking down at my pants, tracing my hands along my hips and thighs. He nodded, smiling down at me, “you do look… hot,” he affirmed, nodding, his gaze soft on me. He cleared his throat then came back closer to me, adjusting the helmet. 

He traced his fingers down from the bottom of the helmet to the black cord around my neck. “You’ve always eyed this one,” I whispered nervously, as I looked up at him. “Triquetra: body, mind, spirit,” he said, tracing it. I nodded. “Your Irish is showing,” I muttered, nudging him as he smiled down at me. “Take it,” I said, as I undid it and began to wrap it around his neck. “No, what are you doing, Y/N? It’s yours,” he argued, gently pushing my hands away. “Don’t be annoying. I’m going to Dublin this summer, I’ll buy a new one,” I pushed. He surrendered, as I wrapped it around his neck. I continued, “This one has been mine since forever, so it has luck and my… essence, so you can… wear it when you’re driving or whenever you need protection,” I reasoned, clasping it.

“Thank you, Y/N. I’m never taking this off,” he said, looking down at it, his fingers caressing the charm. “So,” he took a deep breath then climbed onto the bike, now sitting in front of me. He pulled his helmet on then turned it on, now gripping the handlebars. “Scoot closer to me,” he said, reaching behind him to grab my arms and wrap them around him. “We’ll ride, but only for a bit,” he asserted. “Okay,” I whispered. He reached back and grabbed under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly up and closer to him, my thighs now completely wrapped around him. He smelled like cinnamon and… Miguel. I lowered the shield on my helmet, my face flushed. His gloved hands clenched around the bars, as he slowly started to drive. 

We drove down the street, as I held onto his muscular body tightly. I’m enjoying this a little too much. “We should head into the main city, just barely, for a little,” I whined. “We have to study,” he exclaimed back at me, through the wind. “Please, just for a bit, for me,” I said, squeezing him tighter. I felt him exhale against my chest. He dropped his head low, defeated. He headed towards the freeway. “I hate you,” he exclaimed. I grinned under my helmet, leaning my head into his back. He sped up, my hair combed by the wind. 

We entered the main city, the huge skyscrapers lit up, shining above us. I looked up in awe. “You good back there?” he called out, patting my leg. I squeezed him tightly, nodding against him. We drove through the city, then eventually headed back. 

We pulled up in front of my apartment, as he turned the engine off and got off of the bike. He took his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. He stood beside me, and helped me take off mine. He lifted it off of me slowly, his eyes immediately meeting mine. 

“See, not as dangerous as you thought it would be, huh?” I teased, hoping it would convince him to let me ride with him again.

“Mmmm, you are still in one piece,” he said, shrugging, helping me get off of the bike. “So, you’ll invite me to ride with you again, someday, maybe?” I asked, smiling up at him, leaning closer to him. “I’ll consider it,” he said, smirking down at me as we walked to my apartment to study. “Fair enough.” 

✧༺♥༻∞

next part

Tag List: @wingedturtledream @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @infirebaby @skaochii @bat-yo-us @lostpirate79 @renn-pumkin-head @princessa-micomicona @qundadedingle11 @waiif-uwu @punpuun @migueloharaslxt @thbidkbutok @00macy2022 @acehyacinth

[mediumgayitalian]

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She is entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, mock outraged, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Annabeth’s eyes narrow. “Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid —”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes as her grip on the Mist loosens.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding suddenly dawns on her.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys, stopped before you’re even started,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a bright grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

[moralesluvr]

˚ʚ workout ft. miles morales ɞ˚

♡ pairings & aus: earth42!miles morales x fem!black!reader ♡ warnings: some swears, a little suggestive ♡ summary: you tell miles as a joke that you think you're stronger than him, so he takes you to the gym as a challenge to complete one of his workouts. ♡ a/n: need this man as my gym buddy BADDDLYYYY ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

"BABY, ION' THINK YOU KNOW WHAT YOU TALKIN' BOUT."

Miles chucked as his thumbs continued to click away at his controller, curses occasionally leaving his lips as he shot at something on the TV. You were propped in his lap as he played, his arms wrapped around your waist as you would adjust your position on his thigh every once and a while.

"No, Miles, I know it. I'm way stronger than you." You boasted with pride, the sound of your boyfriend's doubtful scoff filling your ears. He heard you pout in response, so he put his controller down and let his character run free as he turned you around, face meeting his as his hand placement relocated to your lower thighs.

"I love you and all," Miles started, and you could practically see the snicker in his voice, "But you not stronger than me, mami, I think we both know that."

"Yes I am." You insisted, "Have you seen my legs?"

Miles tuts at you with a laugh, squeezing the soft skin of your thigh that he was holding, "Nuh uh, we not jus' talkin' 'bout legs, I mean everything."

"But since you insist you stronger than me...we finna go to the gym. You and me."

Your eyes widened, the realization of your predicament hitting you like a train. Uncomfortably, and also out of doubt, you slid off of Miles' lap and placed your hands on your stomach, face puffing, "Can't go. 'M sick."

"Bae, you know you not sick." Miles snorted as he stood up, eyes placed on you carefully. The gleam in his eyes told you that he wasn't taking no for an answer, so you sighed and threw your head back at your fate, wallowing to your drawers to find workout clothes to wear.

Miles was already dressed for the occasion, clad in a white compression tee and basketball shorts. He sat back on your bed until you found a pair of Nike pros and a Lululemon top he bought you a while back. Your face shone of embarrassment when Miles peeped that the tag was still on it.

"Baby, you mean to tell me you had me buyin' that ugly shit just for you not to wear it? Oh nah, you gon' start workin' out with me now." He rose an eyebrow at you, and you gave him a light chuckle,

"It's not ugly! And workin' out around other people makes me anxious, they always be starin'." You shrugged, slipping off a pair of Miles' shorts as they pooled around your ankles. Stepping out of them, you jumped to get your Nike pros on, making Miles chuckle. You frown.

"Nothing is funny."

"What's funny is you tryna get them lil' shorts on." Miles snickered, hand up to his mouth as he flashed you all of his pearly whites. You gave him a nonchalant shrug as you ripped the tag off of your shirt, taking your old one off and slipping it on, "Not my fault. My ass is just fat."

"Can't even argue with that." Miles agreed, making a smirk dance on your lips as you finished putting on your clothes, finding a pair of shoes to wear as well. Finally, you stood up, grabbing a hair tie and scurrying over to where your boyfriend was sitting on the bed.

"Tie my hair up?"

Miles gives you a nod, a rasp lacing his voice as he tells you to come to him, so you do, and he places you in his lap as he pulls back your braids, securing them into a ponytail. You turn around to face him, rubbing your head, "Damn, I said tie my hair up, not tie my braincells up! Why is it so tight?"

"Want it to fall out?" Miles questioned you inquisitively, and when you shook your head no, he stood up with you and murmured an 'Exactly', making you roll your eyes.

He grabbed his keys and wallet, hand intertwined with yours as you left your lone apartment. Anxiety played on your nerves as you made your way to Miles' car, where he opened the door for you as you climbed inside.

The ride on the way to the gym was fairly silent, other than the music that was bumping through the speakers, which you would occasionally bop your head to.

Before you knew it, you had arrived, and you were freaking out on the inside. This whole idea of who was stronger had easily become a nuisance, all because of a joke, but you knew better to say it anyways, because you knew how your lover was.

But, you got yourself into this mess, so you didn't really have anyone else to blame.

You and Miles quickly checked in, setting your belongings into a cubby. As he locked it, he looked down at you, "So, where we goin' first, ma?"

"Um.." you looked around, mainly for anything that looked like it didn't have a lot of people watching, or occupied there. "Squats?"

Miles chuckled, and you froze.

This was not going to go well.

You both made your way to the squat station, where Miles stood by the rack of weights as you took a deep sigh, walking up to the bar.

"What do you start with?"

"Huh?" You murmured, making Miles roll his eyes as he leaned on the rack.

"Baby, what's your starting weight. As in, how much do I need to put on this bar for you to not fall over and bust yo ass."

Your lips flattened out at him as you flipped him off. He didn't retaliate, as his victory would be enough retaliation for your response, so he just grabbed two fives and slid them on each side.

He then walked behind you as you picked the bar up with your shoulders, the 55-pound weight resting on you.

Miles stood behind you carefully, arms at either side of your waist as he gave you an encouraging, light pat on your behind. You sucked in a breath and squatted, quickly popping back up as you smiled to yourself, hanging the bar back up on the rack.

The weight eventually piled up, until a 45 and a 25 were on each side of the bar, making you wince underneath the weight. Your boyfriend did nothing but encourage you as you started to squat, the weight making your knees buckle as you popped back up, letting out a strong wheeze. You stepped away from the rack and placed your hands on your hips, leaning over as you look up at Miles, who laughed,

"You did good, babe," He started, "But that's my starting weight."

Sighing, you caught your breath, not even caring that Miles inevitably beat you in your challenge, you were just happy that you got to show him that you were strong. Maybe not as or stronger than him, but you did have your own level of strength that you could be proud of.

But, out of your curiosity, you turned around to see Miles literally repping your weight. He just kept adding plates like a madman, until the bar was practically filled to the brim. That's when you saw him grow tired, the bar clanking against the rack as he stood up, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"How...how much was that?" You asked him, and he gave you nothing but a mischieveous smirk as he spoke,

"505."

You groaned at him, "Fine. You won."

"Hm, what was that?" He asked you, holding up a hand to his ear as you rolled your eyes at him. You didn't feed his ego, instead, you just reached up on your tippy toes, granting a warm kiss on his cheek,

“You win.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @aziulsworld @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk @tzuyuzzs // @clearskiiiess // @vienreina // @pixqlsin /// @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses // @yanghees // @popeheywardssecretgf // @mxspiderman2099 // @scryarchives // @rksses // @mmst4rz

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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae // @luci1fer // @art-598

[meiieiri]

LITTLE NYMPH OF HIS HEART — GETO SUGURU

❁—SYNOPSIS: in which suguru meets his newborn daughter.

a/n: my writer’s block has me in such a horrible chokehold that this took me an hour to write. also, fuck why isn't this real UGH (⇀‸↼‶)⊃

only an hour and twelve minutes old and she’s already crushing his heart into irreparable smithereens. and she isn’t even doing anything.

she doesn’t have to, really, she could just sleep soundly, and maybe let out a tiny little coo now and then, and her father would weep a million tears to flood the entire earth and plunge it into the realm of archaic legends maybe even more mythical than that of the ancient underwater city of atlantis.

suguru sniffles, holding the little bundle closer to his bare chest when she yawns and shifts ever so slightly, favoring the warmth of her father’s skin. so this is what the doctors meant when they said that the first skin-to-skin contact with his newborn was going to be an emotional affair, he downplayed it as some gross exaggeration and even refused the roll of tissues the nurses had been offering him.

and what a huge blunder that was.

“look at her,” he brings a calloused thumb to stroke her rosy cheek, fearing that the weight of his entire hand would overwhelm the little girl. no, his little girl — your newborn daughter.

“it’s like she knows she’s a heartbreaker,” he turns to look at you, his eyes glossy with joyful tears. “just like you.”

you could only let out a quiet tearful laugh, your voice absolutely shredded and strained from the harrowing ordeal of bringing your most precious one into the world.

“or you,” you retort, leaning your head back against the many pillows that suguru had the nurses bring in. “just how many nurses did you have to wink at for these?” you joked, gesturing to the pillows, and the many comforts such as hot compresses and ice chips sitting atop your hospital bedside table.

suguru rolls his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. he turns his attention to the little girl who, seemingly having heard her parents’ voices, feels a little left out leading her to create a slight fuss in her dad’s arms, hiccuping once.

“oh,” suguru coos, consoling her by tickling the soft skin of her feet. “it’s okay, mama’s just being mean.”

despite his words though, he slowly stands up and carefully joins you on the bed, instinctively wrapping an arm around you to tuck you into his side, his heartbeat on the high line knowing that both his girls were safe in his arms, where the both of you rightfully belonged.

“but you’re gonna love her anyway. i know i do,” he reassures his daughter, stroking her little tuft of obsidian black hair, his first gift to her, as if the newborn had the intellectual capacity to understand a single word that comes out of his mouth.

you indulge him anyway, leaving him to his sweet ramblings, preferring not to say anything that could sully this moment of pure unadulterated bliss, a mere passing second in the vast expanse of the turbulent life you and suguru will have to lead as protectors of those who are vulnerable to the demonic forces that lurk in the world’s many back-alleys where even the purest sunlight could not reach. suguru’s soul had been so tormented by the abyssal darkness that slowly consumed him owed to the many cursed spirits he’s had to exorcise that he had long believed himself to be damned, forsaken by the heavens.

but now, how could he still find the nerve to hold on to that pessimistic and borderline cynical belief as he cradles the little nymph of his heart in his arms?

suddenly, a thought hits you and you sit up to stare down at your daughter who was contentedly and happily gurgling away as suguru pokes the tip of her nose.

“akari,” you whisper, testing out the feel of your daughter’s would be name on your lips — the faithful companion that will walk with her for life, a sacred gift that will outlive you and her father. suguru’s eyes widen, awe-struck at the notion of you wanting to name your daughter after the brilliant morning sun, the same one that had greeted her the minute she came into this world.

“akari,” suguru’s voice wobbles. overwhelmed by the rush of emotions, he shifts to press a loving kiss on the crown of your head before bringing akari’s little hand to his lips, softly kissing her minuscule fingers in pure adoration. “heaven’s light.”

[mollymagician]

Matthew didn’t go immediately.

When Death visited the Dreaming that day, it was just he and Lucienne she was there to see. A quick visit, she said. Informal. Just the three of them in a quiet corner of the library. Because, she said… if anyone deserved to know, it was them.

She smiled that smile of hers, and he swore something that had been broken in his little bird-sized heart started to knit back together.

He would have been gone in an instant, out the window in a flash and demands on his…er…afterlife?… be damned. But Death crooked a finger at him, and leaned down, conspiratorial, to whisper, “Matthew, give them time, okay? It won’t be easy, at first. He’s going to need it.” A quick hand stroking his back feathers, like an apology.

He coughed and studied the wood grain of the desk . “Uh…yeah. I mean…right. Of course. You…you got it, uh, Ma’am.”

But she was already gone.

So, he gave them time.

A month passed, in the Waking, by his reckoning.

How much time was time, Matthew wondered.

What did ‘time’ mean to someone who was a few billion years old? Was a month enough time for the anthropomorphic personification of everybody’s brain-stuff to become Some Guy? How did that even work, anyway? Did he need to, like, solidify? Like a pudding? Probably not the instant stuff. But what the hell did he know about pudding, he’d only ever eaten it out of a little plastic cup.

While he pondered the pudding-to-Endless equivalency method of time measurement, another month passed.

Then one evening, as he perched on one of the palace spires and watched the sun sinking down towards the rippling mirage that concealed the horizon, his patience snapped completely, without warning, and he found himself winging his way into the Waking before his own common sense could sweet talk him out of it.

He landed on the narrow sill outside of a very familiar window. Mellow lamplight spilled through the glass. He could see inside, across the comfortable living room with it’s well-worn couch and cluttered dining table, to the two figures standing together in the small kitchen.

Holy fucking shit, Matthew thought.

He lunged foreword to tap out that familiar little rhythm on the glass— shave and a haircut— and Hob was hustling over to open it in an instant, grinning like a searchlight. Then he was skidding to a stop in the middle of the kitchen counter and before him was

Before him stood

If possible, he seemed even thinner than before— whatever had happened over the past two months had happened to him hard. But he was also…softer. Was that a thing that could be? Standing in the kitchen in a faded blue (blue. blue?) tshirt and threadbare gray sweatpants and smiling. SMILING. He was Some Guy and he was looking at Matthew and smiling.

He was exactly the same. He was entirely different.

“Holy fucking shit,” Matthew said.

Dream leaned his forearms against the counter, bringing himself down to ravens-eye level and said, “Hello Matthew.”

Very eloquently, Matthew said, “Dude.” Then, the floodgates opened and he couldn’t seem to stop. “DUDE. Fuck…it’s…you! It’s you! Look at that! Holy shit! I can’t even…I mean why am I surprised I died and woke up a fucking bird but I mean…look at you!! FUCK!!” He flapped his wings emphatically and stomped, as best he could with his spindly legs. “Goddammit! These…fucking…ARRGH. No thumbs! An’ no arms! I just wanna…HOB. My dude. Would you help me out here????”

Hob, who had been standing by with the expression of someone who had sprained an internal organ with the effort not to laugh, drew a shaky breath and a hand across his mouth and stepped foreword.

“Okay, I think I see. I get you.” He stepped up to Dream, laid broad palms on his narrow shoulders, and said with great formality, “Dream…from Matthew.”

And tugged Dream forward into a crushing, bone-creaking hug, compressing the breath clean out of him.

Dream squeaked like a squeezed balloon and that…that, more than anything else, made it real.

“Yeah,” Matthew said, “That’s the stuff.”

When Hob released him a solid minute later, Dream staggered a bit and caught himself on the counter, looking slightly stunned. But the smile was back, tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“I…I thank you, Matthew,” He said. “I missed you as well.”

Matthew looked down at his skinny little bird feet, listening to the sound of his claws clicking as he fidgeted. He felt…what was this? Shy. When the hell had shy ever happened to him? Never, that’s when. Fuck that. Matthew cleared his throat and looked up at the pair standing there beaming at him under the gold kitchen lights. “So, uh. What’cha up to? Got any big plans for…uh…for your afterlife tonight?”

“Ah. Hob is teaching me how to.” Dream paused. “Not set the stove on fire. We are making—what is this?” He plucked a small box off the countertop and studied it. “Pudding. Apparently.”

The sound Matthew made would have been pppPPPpppffffftttttt if he’d had lips. Which he didn’t, so the noise that actually came out was more or less indescribable.

“It’s a step up from tinned soup,” Hob said. “Progress is being made.”

Dream slanted him a look and picked up the can of whip cream, fiddling with the nozzle. “I did make perfectly adequate tinned soup. The second time. I believe I will be more than capable of—“ The rest of the sentence was obliterated by the sound of aerosolized dairy product spurting across his face.

Dream sighed.

Hob turned around to face the refrigerator, his shoulders shaking silently, organs once again in peril.

“…Oh man,” Matthew said. “This is gonna be great.”

[darkeralmond]

Saw your little thing for Ethan smut requests and icl I can’t get the trope of where the mc fakes an O and the LI finds out, or thigh riding out of my mind (I’ll let you pick lmao)

TY FOR THE REQUEST!!

We Can Be Quiet

Ethan Edwards x fem! Reader

synopsis: ethan showed up at your door after practice with the intention of having sex. everyone in the sorority is asleep which means you have to stay quiet.

warnings: 18+, smut, thigh riding, hickeys

word count: 1.1k

a/n: TYSM FOR ALL THE SUPPORT RECENTLY I APPRECIATE IT!! also i love jidion w jidion for not paying edp for an interview and L sneako for defending edp

masterlist | request info

You laid on your bed with your headphones in. You had your laptop open, finishing up some work from your lecture earlier. You heard a faint knocking at your door which startled you. The rest of the girls in the sorority house were asleep which is why the knocking confused you.

You got up from the bed and went to open the door. That was a pretty stupid idea if there was a killer or burglar outside your door. Then again who would knock at the door if they planned on killing or robbing you? Wouldn’t they just open the door and do it? Guess you were about to find out.

You opened the door and saw your boyfriend, Ethan, in the doorway. Definitely wasn’t a killer or burglar. “What are you doing here?” you asked, looking down at his attire. He had clearly just got out of practice due to the thick coat and the UMich beanie he wore.

He walked past you and you shut the door behind him. He sat down on the bed and ripped his beanie off his head, revealing his messy dirty blonde hair. Damn, he looked so good. He had that look in his eye, the look that implied he wanted to have sex. The smile on your face faded a bit. “Ethan, we can’t.”

“Why not?” he asked, now stripping out of his coat which revealed his black compression shirt.

The thoughts in your head went blank as he did this. He knew what he was doing, he was doing this to seduce you. You finally gained your focus back and said, “My roommates are asleep and I don’t want to wake them up.”

“You know you don’t care about that,” he smirked. The infamous gray sweatpants, the compression shirt, the messy hair, the smell of his alluring cologne. He was right, you didn’t care. All you cared about right now was getting rid of this feeling that ran you up the walls with arousal.

You folded your arms over your chest as you maintained the intense eye contact between you two. You kept repeating the fact that you weren’t gonna fall to his feet in your head as he got up from the bed and approached you. He grabbed your shoulders gently and rubbed your upper arms. “Please, we can be quiet. Can’t we?”

You shouldn’t do this with everyone in the house, but you craved the idea too much. Plus, Ethan always knew what he was doing when it came to sex. Your eyes glanced down to his lips and back in his eyes. “Dammit, you win.” You rolled your eyes before leaning in to kiss him.

He kissed back now placing his hands on your back, rubbing it gently as your hands found their way to the sides of his neck. Your lips meshed together like they were made for each other. He picked you up and led the two of you to your bed. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled away. You could feel his bulge through his sweatpants as it pressed against your thigh.

He sat down on the bed with you straddled onto his lap. “You better make this quick so I can get this assignment done,” you said. He nodded his head then let out a hum in thought.

What was he plotting? Why wasn’t he just going to fuck you like he usually does? “I want you to ride my thigh and then I can help you with work.”

Your eyes widened. “You want me to…what?” You let out a couple giggles out of shock even though he was being dead serious. “Okay, okay.”

His smile grew wider. You hopped off his lap and stripped out of your plaid pajama pants. You watched as he slid out of his sweatpants leaving you to stare at his shaft as it strained against the black fabric of his boxers.

You looked down at his slightly parted legs then up in his eyes. “What am I supposed to do?” You approached him again and positioned yourself on his thigh.

“You just ride it,” he said. “Ride it like how you ride me.” He winked after that comment. You rolled your eyes as the blush made its way to your cheeks. His hands found themselves on your hips as you began to rock your hips.

This felt kind of awkward, but it also felt good. The fabric rubbed against your clit which shocked pleasure throughout your body. You let out a soft moan that was almost quieter than a whisper. Ethan guided your hips, securing you on his thigh.

Your body felt warm with pleasure as you moved your lower body back and forth. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. Your panties felt soak, you could feel the dampness form on his thigh.

He gripped onto your hips even harder. You let out a gasp at the feeling, tilting your head back slightly. The sensation was so overwhelming, you felt the orgasm building up in your body.

“I’m close,” you groaned loudly. His lips connected to the sensitive spot of your neck, biting and kissing at it. You let out a small moan, keeping your head back so he had more access to your neck. He marked your neck with hickeys. He obviously wanted everyone else in the house to know he was here at the sorority while they all slept.

Soon, you were shaking as you caught yourself on the brink of orgasm. You moaned softly again as hot tears prick at your eyes. “This feels so good,” you breathed out.

Your muscles tensed as your vision became blurry with tears. You finally felt the rush of pleasure wash over you as you finished. He pulled away from your neck as you rested your head on his shoulder.

You took a couple deep breaths to bring your heart rate back to normal. You pulled back and looked Ethan in his eyes. “Did that feel good?” he asked with a cocky smile on his face.

You rolled your eyes. “Get that stupid smile off your face,” you laughed. That comment also won a laugh out of him. You finally answered him, “Yes, it did.”

“We should do that again,” he said with a wink.

You shook your head, getting up from his thigh. “No, I need to get my work done and now, because of you, I need to change.”

He rolled his eyes while laughing. “Fine,” he said, standing up and pulling up his gray sweatpants. “At least you stayed quiet.” You threw your pajama pants at him in response.

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── 𖥻 🍭‧₊˚⊹ nct dream on your period !

suggestive. mdni. library

haechan can sleep with you for hours, as long as you need it. the pain gives you no rest, and you try to confront it in silence to not overwhelm the boy sleeping next to you. between dreams, you have heard him wake up occasionally to check that you are better, and you have not thought about anything other than pretending to be asleep so that he gets some rest. so you are there, staring at the ceiling as a blaze of pain collapses you and grips your insides. you doze and doze until you finally fall into the arms of morpheus; the pain has subsided a bit since you last woke up.

you stretch, feeling your muscles stiff and exhausted from a terrible nap, but feeling that you can finally find some sleep: the pain has almost completely disappeared. the sun's rays have been extinguished by the thin curtains of the alcove and you hear the small cooing of nocturnal animals below haechan's soft snoring. maybe that's why you don't notice it at first; your hand goes to your belly and you bump into something.

haechan's hand rests peacefully on your stomach, giving off a sweet body heat. you hear him stirring between dreams before his two brown orbs greet you warmly. “better?” your hand intertwines with his. “better.”

jisung would make you the most delicious teas in the world while you showered with hot water. he knows how bad you feel when your period is about to come, so he would make you your favorite pajamas and together while listening to music. he would make you sleep on his chest while caressing your lower back to somehow relieve your menstrual pains, whisper sweet things in your ear or simply sing to you in an attempt to divert your attention to him. “you know what i read somewhere?” you hear his voice ask as you are about to fall asleep. you hum in response, “making love helps.”

“ji, dear. i think it only applies to headaches.” “oh,” he would say, stubbornly. “i'm sure i read it somewhere, i'll look it up for you.”

mark buys you pads when your period is three days early. she'd probably try to buy them in your favorite color, even if it's just the wrapper. he'd be on the phone with you while reciting in whispers the details of the towel package, and at this point, you don't know who's more embarrassed between the two of you.

“mark, honey, can you hurry up?”

“oh, shit, yes, baby. on my way,” he says he's about to pay but actually asks a salesgirl for help because he doesn't understand entirely about wings and no wings. he'd probably spend hours looking at the rack to buy the perfect towels, see the details on the packaging having a vague idea of the ones he's seen you buy. then when he came home, you know he'll make you tell him how proud you are of him for doing it without help, nevertheless, you ask him to hurry up next time because your ass is frozen from waiting so long.

jeno knows when you're in pain, and he finds himself in a conjunction of what's the best thing he can do in situations like that. it's obviously hard to know for sure what to do when he'll never be able to experience what you're feeling. “talk to me,” he whispers softly, hovering over your body but without touching you, fearing that he could make the situation worse by looking at your body contorted in the least painless position you found for your cramps. “let me die.” also, it doesn't help the drama you possess without alteration at times like those.

he leaves the room for a whole ten minutes and you think «damn he did let me die» but then he returns. you are filled with gentle kisses while a warm compress is deposited in your stomach. “is it too hot?” he wants to know, looking at you with worried doe eyes. suddenly you're out of speech at the sweet gesture, feeling flustered and warm by it even tho he surely did the same on other occasions. “too hot.” you think out loud, causing jeno to check the compress. “you sure?” he asks, receiving a pretty stunned “uh-huh” from you.

he peeks at you, and it all seems to fit in his head. a big smile appears on his lips when he leans to kiss you as he decides to play along. “should we try another method?”

taking hot showers with renjun is always fun. without worrying about anything since the bathroom is always dark except for scented candles on the countertop. having long, tender kissing sessions while his soft hands caress your waist, back pressing the tiles from the wall. hands brushing his wet hair out of his hair. smiling in each other's mouths, before you feel something warm go down your crotch. “okay! we need to stop.” because you've never tried doing it while on your period, and asking renjun would be pretty embarrassing. however, he only moves his kisses to your neck, “If you need me, just say it.”

he lets you go as he hums a melody, feeling him lather his hair. going silent out of nowhere before he whines softly, “something's wrong?” you ask him, trying to focus your eyes on his dark silhouette. “it got into my eye!”

jaemin would be so kind and understanding when he sees you start to cry after you have said something rude to him. he knows you are in a vulnerable and emotional moment, so he empathizes completely with you even when he cannot and will not be able to experience what you are going through. you are so upset and in a bad mood, that you don't register when you raise your voice in response to him. you immediately regret doing so, which makes you more irritated; you regret being in this state and regret yelling at your boyfriend when all he wants to do is to help.

you cover your face in grief. “sorry, sorry.” hiccups attack you as you try to hide the terrible state of your riotous emotions. you register no sound other than your disconsolate sobs, and you think jaemin has gone and finally tired of you, which causes you to cry more. little do you know that jaemin is suffering his own internal battle. he knows you don't like to show your sensitive side, should he go away and leave you alone? it must be hard to have colic and have to put up with his nonsense questions, should he apologize? would it make any difference?

so the best he can think to do is to hold you in his arms as he rocks you in his embrace, whispering that there is nothing to apologize for every time you apologize.

chenle doesn't cringe when she sees the dark spot on the sheets, and you sleeping peacefully, oblivious. but he knows how embarrassed you'll be once you wake up, so he gets to work. you once told him how much you craved gummy bears when you were on your period and ever since then, he has had bags and bags of gummy bears in the cupboard. he would remove you from your dreams for a good reason, suggest you shower together and then eat candy while watching a movie.

even when he keeps you from noticing, it's almost impossible; there's a similar stain on the pants you stole from his closet. the embarrassment eats you alive as chenle tries to downplay it. he doesn't budge when you try to take charge, instead, he KICKS you out of his room and tells you to pick a movie while he takes care of the situation. after he's done with the room, he walks into the living room and sits next to you while a weary sigh leaves his lips. “what did my pretty bloody mary pick out for us?.”

[rowanwithaz]

The Doubt Of Izuku's Feelings

If you think Katsuki's romantic feelings may be more apparent than Izuku's...

I kinda understand.

Izuku could love Katsuki,just not romantically.

But,here's the thing,we have seen time,and time,and time again that the feelings Izuku feels for Katsuki are different from the ones he feels for Katsuki. I have no doubt in my mind that if Katsuki's romantic feelings are cannon,then so are Izuku's.

"Kacchan and the others"

Izuku OBVIOUSLY sees Katsuki differently than he does the rest of his class,sure we could sum it up to them being childhood friends,BUT,even though Izuku gets extremely close with the rest of his class,he still separates them like that.

(This whole scene is gay as hell).

But,I'd like to bring up something interesting:

We established Ochako's crush on Izuku before this happened. (Y'know,when Ayoama said she was in love?) I think it's interesting that's a very common pattern. We'll say something Ochako does/feels for Izuku is romantic then Izuku will do the SAME DAMN THING for Katsuki .

After he got closer with everyone else:

It's still the SAME. Kacchan and the others. So,we established Izuku was Katsuki,and from one of the last times we saw him kinda think,still sees Katsuki differently.

Let's not forget my favorite:

Compress's gaydar!

Izuku's feelings are called out for being possessive,a feeling we still haven't seen Izuku feel for any other of his friends,speaking of,

Even thought most of Izuku's friends are okay,even though they had managed to prevent Tokayami from being kidnapped,he still sees it as a complete loss because of his different feelings for Katsuki,which even Kirishima notices!

So,yes,Izuku's feelings are different,they aren't like the ones he has for his other friends,we have yet to say what these feelings are..or have we? We'll check in with that soon!

Black Whip

When Izuku gets Black Whip,we all know it has to do with Kacchan on some level. But,how do we know this is the case? How do we know Katsuki is the one triggering Black Whi-

Oh,yeah,it was said directly in the manga. (I'll talk about this scene in another section).

BUT,Black Whip is all about Izuku keeping his emotions in check,controlling his heart,I've said it before,and I'll say it again:

Black Whip is the result of negative feelings,caused by strong/positive emotions. Seeing someone you care about so MUCH,get hurt can make you get mad. Yes,Izuku obviously cares about everyone,and he gets upset when they get hurt too,but as I stated previously: we've already established within the manga Izuku feels differently about Katsuki,so it makes sense his anger would be more intense/different since that's how he feels.

Black Whip is about keeping your negative emotions in check,

SO,why does Izuku control his heart,and what does it have to do with Katsuki? Well,Black Whip kinda seems like a metaphor for being closeted,but here's the thing:

If you're like me,you think Izuku struggles with internalized homophobia,and,here's something kinda sad,since the feelings he feels for Katsuki are so tied to Black Whip,he views his feelings for Katsuki negatively,that's why Izuku is so hell bent on "controlling his heart," since he sees the way he feels about Katsuki like this. It also doesn't help that his feelings only seem to hurt Katsuki.

Izuku doesn't want to hurt the person people he loves (I'm foreshadowing in my own damn post,deal with it) with his negative emotions,and since his biggest feeling seems to only bring negativity,he should control his heart.

Toga's rejection

Here's something extremely important when considering Izuku's feelings:

When and how he rejected Toga.

In the rejection; he brings up the fact,

He understands,wanting to be like someone can be fulfilling,it is to Izuku too (which no one brings up?) but he could never hurt someone he loves. And here it is,guys. Izuku literally says he loves "All Might" in this romantic context,but here's the thing,we already know Izuku feels closer to someone than All Might,we already know Izuku has been chasing after and trying to be like someone.

It's Katsuki. How do we know if it really is him? Clues! First,

I've seen people say the narration probably isn't by Katsuki,but we all have already seen "That damned nerd" as something Katsuki would say. So,even if it isn't Katsuki (which I think it is!) We already get the impression "oh,yeah,Katsuki."

Also think that little coincidence is telling. ALSO. Those who are worried about Hori doing an Izuchako endgame,Izuku rejecting Toga's feelings is the same as him rejecting Ochako's. Since we've established the way Toga and Ochako feel about Izuku is very similar.

Targeting

The villains quite literally target Izuku because of his feelings for Katsuki (this kind of goes with the first section) but why doesn't he directly target anyone else with the same mindset?

Because of what Izuku feels for Katsuki is so much different than everyone else.

And Monoma! He targets Katsuki to get a rise out of Izuku when he realizes that making fun of,or threatening Izuku's group doesn't work.

Then, of course,when we have this scene,it honestly clears the air.

When he says Katsuki will be a "present" for Izuku ,well,what does Shiggy say to Izuku when he sees him?

How do we know it's romantic? Well,the last chapter we saw Izuku in was all about 'romance ',isn't it odd it turned out like that? A love confession,then this. Just interesting timing....

And those are just the basics! If you feel like Izuku's feelings may not be romantic,I think it's important to note we have Izuku do the same things Horikoshi has established as romantic to Katsuki. I mean,when Izuku doesn't finish his thinking when it's about Black Whip or Katsuki? That's very similar to how Ochako was with Izuku. Which,yes,guys,Izuchako is very important for GreeNade and Togachako's development. I'll probably make a whole post about my thoughts on that sooner or later.

Anyways,this has gotten to long.

[queenofallimagines]

Alexis ness x witch reader

A/N: WHY THE FUCK DID I NOT THINK OF THIS BEFORE?? I TRYING TO FIND A WAY TO MIX MY WITCH HCS WITH BLUE LOCK AND OFC THE EX HARRY POTTER KID WITH THE STEM CAREER PARENTS WHO CRUSHED HIS DREAMS WOULD FOAM AT THE MOUTH!! Was word vomiting onto a page and this came out and I’m like??? Fuck yeah??

TAGLIST: @priv-rose

Alexis Ness:

- I am SO excited for this🗣️

- First of all fuck Harry Potter and fuck JK rat ass Rowling

- Good now That’s that’s out of the way

- He would literally be star struck like he def wouldn’t tell you he believes in stuff like that bc of his childhood

- But like when he sees your so chill he might joke around with superstitions

- But when you know more of them than he does,,,,?

- “Don’t forget! Salt over your left shoulder!”

- “Plant rosemary by your garden gate,lavender for luck and blow cinnamon into your house on the first of the month.”

- “I- what?”

- Putting some sigils for focus and luck in the shoes

- In the inside of the compression suit

- Reading incantations before a game to help(aka mumbling them while pressing kisses to his face)

- Putting a hex on the other team or players you don’t like (Kaiser)

- Kisses as a good luck charm

- Kissing isagi eyelids and forehead so he can smell his goals😔💕

- Charming a necklace he wears during games

- Putting something in his phone case for good measure so he can accidentally not respond to his family or kaisers texts💕

- You could put a little soccer ball charm on your altar for him🥺

- Alexis ness: Love please don’t hex the opposing team I want to win on my own

- Also ness: so like if you COULD hypothetically make isagi twist his ankle,,,,,

- He’s so funny and silly

- Asking you to turn people into frogs

- “It doesn’t work like that beloved”

- I like to think he would go to haunted places and drag you along

- If this is before he knows you’re a witch

- He pretends he just wanted to see the location and he don’t belive in ghosts n stuff

- Even tho he researched like 600 ghost protection methods before yall got here

- The two of you go in, joking around and having fun in the worn down building but the two of you stop dead in your tracks as you hear something?Footsteps...that aren't yours or his.

- Ness clutching you like a damn lifeline

- Your hearts are both pounding in your chests as you walk through the halls, unsure of what is making that noise that doesn’t sound like it’s coming from an animal…

- Mama ain’t raise no Bitch

- So you just straight up yell💀

- “Fuck off! go bother someone else!”

- Poor baby Ness quickly clamps his hand over your mouth, his eyes wide at your outburst. Whatever was making noise in the abandoned hospital immediately stops making noise tho 💅🏿

- Ness gives you the “you’ve lost your damn mind” look

- “Hey! Maybe don’t make whatever it is more pissed off-!”

- “That’s how you banish ghosts! so unless it’s something more dangerous you can tell them to kick rocks! We’re technically on their territory but like same thing I guess. They can’t do much but scare us and I’ve got like 10 protection charms they can’t really do much.”

- Pause

- Rewind

- Excuse me?

- “Y’all got about three seconds to get the fuck up out my way and two of ‘em are already gone because I don’t count shit but money so get to stepping Casper!”

- He’s going to propose to you

- “ Wait! You’ve got protection charms-!?”

- Ness is side eyeing you hard asf rn😭

- Not in a bad way but a “when was this??” Type of way bc he knew nothing of this

- “Ok then…but what about those ghost hunting shows! like there’s those that say that if they get pissed off they can hurt you for being on their ‘property’ if I remember correctly..”

- Like he’s pulling out his ghost busters encyclopedia lmao

- “Those are fake and I’m a witch they can’t fucking touch me. I’ve talked to demons🙄Some old grumpy spirit can’t do much but give me nightmares and even then they’ll have to box me about it”

- Lmao he’s like full stop staring at you wide eyed

- Kaiser baby you’ve been dethroned I fear

- A new emperor about to spin the block😔✊🏿

- Oh! And not let him hear you WORK with deities

- He will be like a kid in a candy store

- Like trauma suddenly gone lmao

- His ugly ass momma saying all that vile shit to him as a baby suddenly never happened

- He’s living his Peter Pan dreams!!

- Ness’ jaw drops to the floor as he hears you list out the demons you’ve worked with.

- Kinda thinks you’re making fun of him at first so he bristles at you but when he sees you’re not even smiling about it he’s even more shocked

- “So..you made a deal with them or something-? If you did that’s like….your soul is basically his now, right!?”

- “Not really? I just had to ask nicely.”

- Lmao he’s like trying to rewire his brain right now

- Nagging voices at the back of his head telling him

- Magic isn’t real and there’s probably a logical explanation for all of this like you’re so clearly kidding

- “Y-You’re like…a legit witch? Like you can do magic and summon stuff!?”

- “Yep”

- He stares for another few seconds before a smile creeps onto his face, his eyes going wide with amazement?

- Like you can actually see the stars

- “Dude this is SO COOL! You’re like a bad ass witch! Wait…CAN YOU DO MAGIC RIGHT NOW!?”

- Dragging you through the hospital as suddenly he done forgot about the shorts or whatever

- You flinch at something dripping but he don’t even turn around to look at it he’s rambling to himself for the most part

- “Alex baby It’s not like Harry Potter but I do curse people and do old ancient spells and stuff. Like I’m technically doing magic right now? I have a protective charm on us so nothing can try anything funny-“

- “A PROTECTIVE CHARM?! YOU CAN DO PROTECTION MAGIC TOO!”

- Lord

- He grabs your hand and starts yanking it

- Chill out???

- he’s excited about this magic stuff and as he holds your hand, he seems so innocent and curious about all of this now.

- “Show me some magic…PLEASE?”

- “Like what spell do you want? And again not like flying magic. It’s more…I guess stuff close to that? Still within the realm of reality. But I mean technically your parents do magic too right? They’re scientists. And just before you know how something works doesn’t mean it’s less magical yknow?”

- Ignoring the fact that last part is what sparked this entire head canon I’m right leave me alone

- “Eh..scientists are just nerds who figure out how things work, not really magical.”

- He’s gunna start pouting, he didn’t really believe in his parents nerdy sciencey stuff

- but your magic that’s WAY more interesting! Magic! Actual magic! How cool is that!

- “Magic isn’t just something you can’t understand. Like think of it. We don’t know shit about gravity and it’s still just a theory but if I drop something it falls right? Same principal. Things seen and unseen in this earth are magic. Like you can use chemistry in spell work all the time. like urine and bleach make chloramine gas and I’ve used that in curses.”

- See he only heard that last part I’m afraid

- was DEF not expecting the last part to come out from your mouth

- “I’m….You…put piss…into your curses?”

- “I WILL call the ghosts to come jump you on my behalf…”

- That got his ass In check real quick lmao

- “like the possibility that I CAN. Like it could be for a nightmare curse. Throw in some poppy seeds for mental unrest and nightmares, vinegar to sour their mind and maybe black pepper to get them to leave your life really fast.”

- “Huh…so piss, seeds, vinegar and black pepper in a mixture makes a nightmare curse…”

- “Why did you write that down….”

- Hope your grimore or whatever isn’t like private bc he WILL dig through that every chance he gets

- Got all the books on your shelves unorganized and fucked up be he done ran through them

- Like can you have some class??🙄

- Sits and stares at your altar for hours

- Like he’s looking at everything on it to see if he can figure it out

- No that table cloth is blue because that’s all I had leave me alone!!

- Back to deities

- He will always be polite

- Nothing if not a gentlemen

- Will say hello to them before YOU walking into the crib

- Like you know when a boy is so polite he talks to your whole family before even remembering he came there for you?

- That’s him

- “Hi great grandma! I bought you some of that liquor you like”

- Leaves more offerings then you I’m afraid

- He’s so baby deer coded they love him

- Everyone and they momma will ride or die for him.

- So like don’t let Kaiser be within a one Mile radius of your house and talking bad to him

- Matter fact? Don’t even watch his games in your home

- Bc now everyone mad

- “Why is he disrespecting my baby like that?”

- Like house is in shambles

- “Go give this to him”

- “What? But wasn’t this mine-“

- “Did I stutter?”

- He’s so beloved

- “I call him old man a lot. Or like Lucy-“

- “Lucy….king of hell, devil incarnate, Lord of the Underworld, and one of the most infamous fallen angels. And you call him LUCY?!”

- Jokes that your food is made with love but like now he’s not sure it’s a joke at this point….

[seat-safety-switch]

"I hear there's a whole crew of eager young faces out there just ready to ride the rapids!" hollers our rafting guide, a man who I would later discover from the TV news was actually named Ralph. This man continued to give us a short-form version of his life story, before instructing us on the proper way to wear a life vest (or "personal flotation device," if you're German.) The tourists around me oohed and aahed and snapped pictures, enough to be already halfway through what, in a simpler time, would have been a roll of Kodak film.

Why was I engaging in this pursuit, one which was not just dangerous but without the involvement of any motorized transportation whatsoever? Simple. I had gotten a free ticket from a coworker who "couldn't make it," and I had heard that there were some old hoopties crashed in the forests around the white-water rapids.

See, way back in the era when old cars were new cars, there was no good way to recycle them. Tow truck technology was in its infancy. Junkyards were just called "yards." And China hadn't been invented yet. Or it had, but they were probably also busy building their own new cars and didn't want to take some idiot's old Ford Business Coupe off his hands. So folks just left that shit on the side of roads, in forests, or pushed them off a cliff and watched what happened before driving off in their new car. Tragic, I know, but it means that lots of perfectly good running gear is all over this part of the country.

Ralph led us out on the water. He was pretty good, except for the part where he kept yelling at me to perform manual labour for which I was receiving no compensation. After a couple hours into the trip, I had seen no cars whatsoever and was beginning to lose hope entirely. I was damned to be stuck on this orange pool toy as we shot down the water in order to be rewarded with yet more water. Thrilling though it may be to some people, I was perfectly familiar with going dangerously fast and getting uncomfortably wet from any daily commute in my harem of rusty cars.

That's when I saw it. Anyone else would have easily missed a glimpse of the fender of a 1929 Chevy International roadster. I pulled my backpack off, discarding my oar to do so, and retrieved my homemade grappling hook from within. With a quick burst of compressed air and a not-so-quick burst of nitromethane-fuelled Sanden air-conditioning compressor exhaust, I was flown from the piteous grasp of Mother Kinda-Wet to the warm embrace of Mother Earth. And boy, did she ever have that fender. Not much else, of course, but if you squinted, you could kinda see part of the headlight was now being adopted by the accumulated moss.

After guessing the vague location of it, I dug in and left with my quarry: one extremely rusty, pig-iron "Oakland" vee-eight engine. It was really light, because almost none of it was left, which is good because I had a long way to walk home. A chipmunk kept me company along the way, probably because he used to live in #3 before I picked up his whole sub-development.

As for the other occupants of the river rafting tour, I'm told that at least half of them, perhaps deluded by hours of direct sunlight and lack of access to proper nutrition, believed my sudden escape was actually proof of my having been abducted by angels. I rolled that into a few other paying gigs upon my return to civilization, but it didn't really do much for the fleet. Tax-exempt crooked megachurches have very strict rules about only buying new cars.

[mspaesthetic]

Tidbit: The “Posterization” Effect of Panels Due to the Consequences of GIF Color Quantization (and Increased Contrast (And Also The Tangential Matter of Dithering))

There’s this misconception that the color banding and patterned dithering found in panels is an entirely deliberate, calculated effect Hussie manipulated the image into looking with some specific filter, but this isn’t the case, exactly. It wasn’t so much a conscious decision he took but rather an unavoidable consequence of the medium he partook in: digital art in an age where bandwidth and storage was at a premium.

Not to delve too deeply into the history and technicalities of it, but the long and the short of it is back in the early nineties to late aughts (and even a bit further into the 10s), transferring and storing data over the web was not as fast, plentiful, and affordable as it is now. Filesize was a much more important consideration than the fidelity of an image when displaying it on the web. Especially so when you’re a hobbyist on a budget and paying for your own webhosting, or using a free service with a modest upload limit (even per file!). Besides, what good would it be to post your images online if it takes ages to load them over people's dial-up Internet? Don't even get me STARTED on the meager memory and power the average iGPU had to work with, too.

The original comic strip's resolution was a little more than halved and saved as a GIF rather than a large PNG. That's about an 82.13% reduction in filesize!

So in the early days it was very common for people to take their scans, photographs, and digital drawings and scale them down and publish them as smaller lossily compressed JPEGs or lossless GIFs, the latter of which came at the cost of color range. But it had a wider range of browser support and the feature to be used for animations compared to its successor format, PNG ("PNG's not GIF").

You'd've been hard-pressed to find Hussie use any PNGs himself then. In fact, I think literally the only times he's ever personally employed them and not delegate the artwork to a member of the art team were some of the tiny shrunken down text of a character talking far in the distance and a few select little icons.

PNGs support semi-transparency unlike GIFs, which is why Hussie used them to preserve the anti-aliasing on the text without having to add an opaque background color.

While PNGs can utilize over 16 million colors in a single image, GIFs have a hard limit of 256 colors per frame. For reference, this small image alone has 604 colors:

For those who can't do the math, 256 is a pretty damn small number.

Smaller still were the palettes in a great deal of MSPA's panels early on in its run. Amazingly, a GIF such as this only uses 7 colors (8 if you count the alpha (which it is)).

Not that they were always strictly so low; occasionally some in the later acts of Homestuck had pretty high counts. This panel uses all 256 spots available, in fact.

If he had lowered the number any smaller, the quality would have been god-awful.

To the untrained eye, these bands of color below may seem to be the result of a posterization filter (an effect that reduces smooth areas of color into fewer harsh solid regions), but it's really because the image was exported as a GIF with no dithering applied.

Dithering, to the uninitiated, is how these colors are arranged together to compensate for the paltry palette, producing illusory additional colors. There are three algorithms in Photoshop for this: Diffusion, Pattern, and Noise.

Above is the original image and below is the image reduced to a completely binary 1-bit black and white color palette, to make the effect of each dithering algorithm more obvious.

Diffusion seemingly displaces the pixels around randomly, but it uses error diffusion to calculate what color each pixel should be. In other words, math bullshit. The Floyd-Steinberg algorithm is one such implementation of it, and is usually what this type of error diffusion dithering is called in other software, or some misnomer-ed variation thereof.

The usage of Pattern may hearken back to retro video game graphics for you, as older consoles also suffered from color palette limitations. Sometimes called Ordered dithering because of the orderly patterns it produces. At least, I assumed so. Its etymological roots probably stem from more math bullshit again.

True to its name, Noise is noisy. It’s visually similar to Diffusion dithering, except much more random looking. At least, when binarized like this. Truth be told, I can’t tell the difference between the two at all when using a fuller color table on an image with a lot of detail. It was mainly intended to be used when exporting individual slices of an image that was to be “stitched” back together on a webpage, to mitigate visible seams in the dithering around the edges.

To sate your curiosity, here's how the image looks with no dithering at all:

People easily confuse an undithered gif as being the result of posterization, and you couldn't fault them for thinking so. They look almost entirely the same!

Although I was already aware of this fact when I was much younger, I'm guilty of posterizing myself while editing images back then. Figured I may as well reduce the color count beforehand to help keep the exported GIF looking as intended. I view this as a complete waste of time now, though, and amateurish. Takes away a bit of the authenticity of MSPA art, how the colors and details are so variable between panels. As for WHY they were so variable to begin with, choosing the settings to save the image as requires a judicious examination on a case-by-case basis. In other words, just playing around with the settings until it looks decent.

It's the process of striking a fine balance between an acceptable file size and a "meh, good enough" visual quality that I mentioned earlier. How many colors can you take away until it starts to look shit? Which dithering algorithm helps make it look not as shit while not totally ruining the compression efficacy?

Take, for example, this panel from Problem Sleuth. It has 16 colors, an average amount for the comic, and uses Diffusion dithering. Filesize: 34.5 KB.

Then there's this panel right afterwards. It has 8 colors (again, technically 7 + alpha channel since it's an animated gif), and uses Noise dithering this time. Filesize: 34.0 KB.

The more colors and animation frames there are, and the more complicated dithering there is, the bigger the file size is going to be. Despite the second panel having half the color count of the first, the heavily noisy dithering alone was enough to inflate the file size back up. On top of that, there's extra image information layered in for the animation, leaving only a mere 0.5 kilobyte difference between the two panels.

So why would Hussie pick the algorithm that compresses worse than the other? The answer: diffusion causes the dithering to jitter around between frames of animation. Recall its description from before, how it functions on nerd shit like math calculations. The way it calculates what each pixel's color will be is decided by the pixels' colors surrounding it, to put it simply. Any difference in the placement of pixels will cause these cascading changes in the dithering like the butterfly effect.

Diffusion dithering, 16 colors. Filesize: 25.2 KB

This isn't the case with Noise or Pattern dithering, since their algorithms use either a texture or a definite array of numbers (more boring nerd shit).

Noise dithering, 16 colors. Filesize: 31.9 KB

Pattern dithering, 16 colors. Filesize: 23.1 KB

There's a lot more I'd like to talk about, like the different color reduction algorithms, which dither algorithms generally compress better in what cases, and the upward and downward trends of each one’s use over the course of a comic, but since this isn’t a deep dive on GIF optimization, I might save that for another time. This post is already reaching further past the original scope it was meant to cover, and less than 10 images can be uploaded before hitting the limit, which is NOWHERE near enough for me. I should really reevaluate my definition of the word “tidbit”… Anyway, just know that this post suffers from sample selection bias, so while the panels above came from an early section of Problem Sleuth that generally had static panels with diffusion dithering and animated panels with noise dithering, there certainly were animated panels with diffusion later on despite the dither-jittering.

Alright, time to shotgun through the rest of this post, screw segueing. Increasing the contrast almost entirely with “Use Legacy” enabled spreads the tones of the image out evenly, causing the shadows and highlights to clip into pure black and white. The midtones become purely saturated colors. Using the Levels adjustment filter instead, moving both shadow and highlight input level sliders towards the middle also accomplishes the same thing, because, you know, linear readjustment. I'm really resisting the urge to go off on another tangent about color channels and the RGB additive color model.

Anyway, there aren't any examples in MSPA that are quite this extreme (at least in color, but I'll save that for a later post), but an image sufficiently high in contrast can be mistaken for being posterized at a glance. Hence the Guy Fieri banner. In preparation for this post, I was attempting to make a pixel-perfect recreation of that panel but hit a wall trying to figure out which and how many filters were used and what each one's settings were, so I sought the wisdom of those in the official Photoshop Discord server. The very first suggestion I got was a posterization filter, by someone who was a supposed senior professional and server moderator, no less. Fucking dipshit, there's too much detail preserved for it to be posterization. Dude totally dissed me and my efforts too, so fuck that moron. I spit on his name and curse his children, and his children's children. The philistines I have to put up with...

In the end, the bloody Guy Fieri recreation proved to be too much for me to get right. I got sort of close at times, but no cigar. These were some of the closest I could manage:

You might be left befuddled after all this, struggling to remember what the point of the blogpost even was. I had meant for it to be a clarification of GIFs and an argument against using the posterization filter, thinking it was never used in MSPA, but while gathering reference images, I found a panel from the Felt intermission that actually WAS posterized! So I’ll eat crow on this one... Whatever, it’s literally the ONE TIME ever.

I can tell it's posterization and not gif color quantization because of the pattern dithering and decently preserved details on the bomb and bull penis cane. There would have had to have been no dithering and way fewer colors than the 32, most of which were allotted to the bomb and cane. You can't really selectively choose what gets dithered or more colors like this otherwise.

Thank you for reading if you've gotten this far. That all might have been a lot to take in at once, so if you're still unclear about something, please don't hesitate to leave a question! And as always, here are the PSDs used in this post that are free to peruse.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for telling a guilt-tripper to knock it off?

I'm part of a Discord server for authors, both aspiring and published. We chat about life, discuss story ideas, share snippets, look for beta readers, give each other feedback on our query packages—the usual. We're from all over the world, so sometimes time zones don't match up, and inevitably there are members who are more active and, thus, get a bit more attention

There's this one user—let's call them Kat—who used to be fairly active and had decent interaction from other users. Around December, Kat shared a bit of their writing to a critique swap—basically a Google Drive where we could look over each other's stuff and provide feedback. They uploaded a bit late due to their schedule (GMT) and didn't get as much critique as they'd hoped, which made them a bit disheartened and they commented as much in the server. I can't blame them, since feeling ignored sucks, but I feel like complaining about it in the general channel (we have a dedicated vent channel) was a bit gauche.

Regardless, Kat continued to be active, albeit posting less frequently. Notably, most of their posting seems to be either responding to group prompts or talking about their own writing. Rarely do they respond to someone else's comments—or, hell, even replies to their own! I've seen people inquire more about stuff they've brought up, and then they just never respond. People do interact with them; they just don't interact back.

About a month ago, they messaged the server talking about recovering from illness and coming up with a story idea, asking for people to look over their first few pages. Two people responded with sympathy and interest; as far as I'm aware, Kat never got back to those people. Usually in interactions like this, someone asks for feedback, another person replies to tell them they're interested, the OP asks to DM, and the conversation goes there; Kat straight up left them hanging. After that, they only sent a few messages—a couple of replies to group prompts (those rarely have interaction from other users, though I've made an effort to react or reply to interesting responses, and I've seen a few others do the same), and another passive-aggressive comment about being ignored.

Tonight, Kat sent a message to the chat in the general channel (again, not #vent) that started with, "Whatever I've done or not done that's made me a social pariah in this group to people I thought were friends who now ignore my questions or posts, at least have a modicum of compassion and heart this message..." They then continued, talking about losing someone close to them. I do sincerely feel for them, but I can't bring myself to interact with that message in any way. Not even the heart they want. Worse, I'm entertaining the notion of telling them that while I am genuinely sorry for their loss, guilt-tripping people isn't an effective way to garner compression.

Why I WBTA: Literally they're grieving, that's such a shitty thing to do right now. Besides, they are right in that people haven't interacted with them as much ever since they asked for feedback on their work that one time. I doubt this will help anyone, let alone them.

Why I might be a JAH (I know for a fact there's no world where I'm NTA): Responses have dipped because they aren't posting as much, and moreover, since they rarely respond to people at all, it's likely that we've all learned that it's not worth it interacting with them. Besides, if I ignore them, they'll just keep guilt-tripping even more, which also isn't helpful to anyone. And again—we have a vent channel. Why they came into the place where we chitchat about our weekend plans vexes me somewhat.

I dunno. It's a very damned if I do, damned if I don't situation. WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?