#and the stupid thing is that i know it’s just the like. five more things i need to do that are causing all this stress

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: cute little way to end the night .. OR SO U THINK

one | two | three | four | five

authors note: 😋😋 dont be mad guys im writing the next part asap. if you arent already part of the tag list, let me know in the replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

(pretend he’s wearing the same clothes stop)

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dstarkeynews Drew and Y/N’s first appearance in a year on September 30th in Santa Barbara, California!

View comments

user1 i haven’t heard about them in forever

user2 ALMOST HAD HIM

user3 I thought they broke up 😭😭

↳ user4 i think they’re on and off

user5 I remember them from 2018 they’re so cute!

user6 tbh i’m happy for them !!

↳ user6 i’m crying .

user7 y’all don’t love them like i do

user8 i was really hoping they didn’t break up omg

user9 they thought they could keep it a secret 😒

user10 WERE THOSE FLOWERS FOR Y/N ????!?$:!:! OMGMGF 😭

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you’re carrying a basket of groceries as you walk with leila through the area. there’s not much on your mind besides checking items off of leila’s list. and it feels nice not having to worry about anything because leila makes you feel normal, makes you and drew feel normal.

speaking of, drew’s just trailing behind you both, though he checks out a few things whenever he sees something he wants to try.

eventually he comes up from your left side and places something he’s bought into your basket, then takes it from you so he can hold your hand with his opposite hand. it feels so natural that you don’t even react, and even if you did acknowledge it, you don’t care.

“it’s so nice to just be out here like regular human beings,” you say, though you note that there’s always a few following behind you three but keep their distance to be a little respectful of your space.

you can hear them giggling every now and then or saying ‘hi’ to their videos that they capture you in, but you don’t think much of it. you think it’s adorable.

drew, however, is itching to get to the car and go home already. leila’s complained twice already that they haven’t completed her list but you’ve already bought everything important for tonight, so you just suggest you go home so both parties still benefit.

leila’s a stubborn one but she gives in when drew is pleading with his palms together. you laugh when she says she can’t stand seeing his “stupid fucking puppy dog eyes”.

when you’re done with your little mini-trip, you return to the car. leila is skipping over with two bags of things while you and drew walk together behind her, swinging your hands back and forth.

he opens your door for you and takes the basket from you so he can keep it in the backseat with leila who happily takes it, and you slide into the passenger’s seat without a thought.

“come on,” his voice pulls you out of the tiktok you’re watching, and you switch your phone off, leaving it on the bed as you drag a blanket with you.

drew’s heading downstairs and he dives right into the sofa, awaiting for everyone to come down already. you wrap the blanket around your body as you shuffle over, seating yourself by his legs.

he sits up instinctively and wraps his arms around you, the side of his head resting on your shoulder as you look around. only a few of you are there—you’re just missing gia and libby who, you guess, are getting the snacks and drinks. and you’re right.

“incoming everyone! don’t be alarmed,” libby says as she and gia make way with the food, and you’re in awe at the spread they’re providing.

“you have your homemade sandwiches—”

“that leila bought from the store,” libby is playing gia’s truth echo that makes you and the others laugh.

“assortment of chips!”

“that i got carried away with and ate half of!”

“can’t go wrong with your candies!”

“theo you owe me fifteen dollars!”

“what?”

“and lastly,” gia closes it out as libby runs back to the kitchen to bring over the tray of cups and drinks. you see oscar rub his hands together mischievously as leila practically drools at the sight. “our drinks!”

libby holds up a cup, “with your name on this complimentary glass that you get to take home after the trip.”

you woo as the glass cups get passed down, and you compare yours with drews while giggling about the free gift. you reach for one of the bottles and fill your glass with it, then take a sip.

“this is what you were working all day on while we were away?” leila asks the girls, extremely impressed by how much dedication they had to providing everyone snacks for her movie night. it essentially is just putting the items into cute bowls and calling it a day, but still. it made her heart warm.

you reach forward and grab a few of the candies and hand one to drew, hinting that you want to try it together. these were purchased by you because you were curious about the taste earlier while you were out.

“ready?” you ask him quickly as he already knows the drill, getting prepared to try it as you count it off. “one, two—” you lean your head back to let the multiple candies you have slide into your mouth while drew just pops his one into his mouth.

as you chew, you raise your eyebrows in surprise. they're really good, and he nods, a small ‘oh yeah’ escaping his lips as he sucks some of the chocolate off of his fingers. you reach over to grab the small bowl, then keep it for yourself without saying anything.

you and drew share a blanket so you’re able to hide the bowl on your lap while he reaches to fill his glass with a drink. oscar hits play on the first movie and you lean into drew’s side to watch the movie this way.

you fall asleep during the second movie, long story short. you can’t help it. but at least you last longer than leila, who fell asleep toward the end of the first one. she was the first one to fall asleep during her own movie night.

drew’s arm tightens around you for a moment, and he shifts to look down at you, finally noticing you’ve completely drifted off.

with a sigh, he decides to call it a night and he rises, sliding out from under you. you stir but don’t fully wake, instinctively curling into the empty spot left by his body.

he hesitates, but then scoops you up gently. you don’t wake up even a bit while your head rests against his chest and he carries you upstairs to the guest room.

the room is already dimly lit by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. he carefully lays you down on the bed, your body finding the most comfortable position as he covers you with the blanket. your breathing is steady as you fall deeper into sleep, and he stands there for a moment, watching you in the soft light, before he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against your leg as he retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

for the first time all day, drew unlocks his phone, the screen lighting up with a shit ton of notifications. missed calls, texts, and a few unread emails flash across the screen, and he scrolls through them with a frown, trying to catch up.

as he gets back up to return to his side of the bed, he swipes through several messages, most of them from his close friends—some teasing, some concerned—before he pauses on one that makes his heart sink.

his eyes narrow, his thumb hovering over the text as his mind races. he was expecting a couple of messages, but not this. not this many. his phone buzzes again, a few more messages lighting up the screen, and he rubs a hand across his face, letting out a quiet, frustrated breath.

his gaze flickers to you again, making sure you’re still fast asleep. the last thing he wants is to wake you up with this, but he glances back down at his phone.

he presses the power button on his phone with a little more force than necessary, the screen going black, then he tosses the phone onto the nightstand with a dull thud. he quickly winces when the sound is a little louder than he expected.

his heart skips a beat when you stir, your eyes fluttering open just slightly, still half-asleep.

“star?” you mumble softly, the name slipping out instinctively.

drew freezes, his gaze immediately shifting to you as you shift under the covers. he forces a smile, leaning forward a little, his voice low and soothing. “sorry,” he murmurs. “just dropped my phone. go back to sleep, okay?”

you blink at him, your eyes barely open, but you manage a small nod, already too drowsy to fully process what’s going on. you can’t read that he’s just lied to you.

“mmf, okay…” you mumble, your body curling into the pillow as you drift back into sleep.

he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as your breathing evens out again. for a moment, the tension in his chest eases, but only just. he leans back, letting his head rest against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before turning off the bedside lamp.

as the darkness settles around him, the weight of everything presses down harder, and he turns onto his side, facing you. the soft glow of moonlight still filters through the window, and you look so . . . peaceful.

he stays like that for a while, watching you sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts he can’t quiet.

but eventually, drew pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the noise in his head and go to sleep.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

You and me makes three

(or four, or five ...)

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 4

Prompts: Breeding Kink & Vibrator

Rated: E

Words: 1,359

Tags: Omegaverse; A/B/O dynamics; Alpha Steve; Omega Eddie; Mates; Mpreg; Pregnancy Kink; Breeding Kink; Vibrators; Knotting; Possessive Steve; Jealous Steve

Notes: Set in the same universe as Whatever you want it to be

“Steve. Stevie, c’mon. Wake up, please.”  

Steve shoots upright with a sound that's half snore and half growl, bleary eyes scanning the bedroom for threats. Then, his nostrils flare and the feral snarl gives way to a disbelieving frown. 

“What, seriously?” he asks. “Again?” 

Eddie shrugs. The movement makes more slick ooze from between his legs. Maybe he'd be embarrassed about it, if Steve's pupils didn't blow up like that, or if his scent didn't spike like it does. Or if he wasn't feeling this desperately, mind-numbingly horny.

“Sorry?” he says. “I'd take care of it myself, but it's getting kinda hard to reach, what with your kid in the way.” 

Being pregnant is fucking bizarre.

Eddie has tried to approach it with an open mind, once the initial shock wore off and Steve assured him he wasn't going anywhere. But now, six months in? The whole thing just continues to weird him out.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Steve. He’s the most perfect alpha and mate Eddie could've asked for. He’s going to make an amazing father to this kid. Which Eddie is sure will be adorable. He just sort of wishes he could skip the part where he needs to grow it in his own belly, being forced to put up with another hormone-induced ridiculousness every other week.

Hell, he thought the morning sickness was bad. Or the mood swings. Or the inexplicable cravings for salt and vinegar potato chips at three in the morning. But this most recent thing is well and truly taking the cake. 

Steve yawns and grumbles, and Eddie can't say he blames him. The kid isn't even born yet and here he goes, robbing them both of their much needed sleep because his body has decided they need to get it on at least two times a day or perish. It’s fucking stupid! 

Still, Steve folds back the covers, pulls open the nightstand drawer, and slips closer. Eddie sighs in relief when his mate's naked body slots into his from behind, already hard and pressing against his entrance, right where he needs it. Only a second later, the warm, solid weight of Steve’s cock is joined by something else, something smoother and colder, and the sigh turns into a low moan. Steve laughs softly and kisses his naked shoulder as the dildo hums to life.

What did he say? Best goddamn alpha in the world. 

“This is so weird,” Steve murmurs as he pushes in, the combined girth of his cock and the toy stretching Eddie wide open, his free arm wrapping around the soft swell of Eddie’s belly to pull him close. “This was in none of the pregnancy books.” 

“I know, ri-?” Eddie starts to say, but needs to stop himself for the chirp that bubbles from his chest. He feels deliciously full, the low vibrations of the toy sending shivers all the way down his spine, making little fireworks sizzle low in his abdomen. “Right? Seriously, what the fuck? You’ve knocked me up already, not like you can put ano- … another one in there.” 

Steve, who has just started rolling his hips in lazy circles, goes very still. For a few seconds, the only sound in the bedroom is that of the dildo still humming away.

“What?” Eddie asks when he still hasn't moved after a while. “Steve, I swear to God, if you've fallen asleep with your dick inside of me I'll-” 

“No,” Steve blurts. “I'm awake. It's just …” 

He pauses to clear his throat and fidget, and that is when Eddie catches the change in his scent. Earthy and heady and distinctly aroused.  

“Oh God,” he groans. “Don't tell me that does it for you!” 

“What?” Steve mutters, and Eddie doesn't need to see his blush to know it's there. “You gotta admit, the thought is kinda hot.” 

His hand finds Eddie’s belly, splaying over the round shape of it, and Eddie’s own cock twitches treacherously.

“Shut up, it's not,” he says, even as the familiar feeling pools at the base of his spine, hot and tight and urgent. Steve chuckles, pressing his face into the crook of his neck and scraping his teeth over the mating bite there. 

“Your scent says otherwise, baby,” he murmurs, and Eddie can feel his smile against his skin as another chirp escapes him. “Just imagine … me stuffing you with my cock? Filling you up with my come, knotting you so good that not a single drop escapes? Breeding you round and full with my pups? I wonder how many I could put into you.” 

“Oh God,” Eddie groans, baring his neck for better access and rocking his hips back as Steve finally, finally starts moving his cock and the toy inside of him again. “You're such a weirdo.” 

Steve laughs, picking up speed. “Takes one to know one. Maybe that's the reason you can't get enough lately. Why no matter what I do, you never seem to be full enough. Why I need to use this thing…” 

He pauses to push the toy in further, hitting that spot deep inside that sends sparks of pleasure zapping all the way into Eddie’s fingertips and toes. 

“... to get you anywhere near satisfied for a few hours.” 

“Aw, don't tell me you're jealous,” Eddie says. He tries to sound teasing but it comes out a lot weaker than intended. It's difficult, being smart while Steve is taking him apart in all the best ways. “You know there's no need to, right? Not with your baby in my belly and your mark on my neck. I'm all yours and nobody else's, alpha.” 

Steve growls at the word, his summer forest scent filling the room like a tangible thing, and that is all the warning Eddie gets before the toy is pulled out and he finds himself flipped on his back, Steve's cock still inside of him, Steve’s lips claiming his for a hungry kiss.

“Nobody else’s,” Steve repeats. The bed frame creaks under the power of his thrusts as he fucks Eddie into the mattress. “All mine, forever and ever and ever.” 

Eddie can’t say he minds the thought one single bit. 

*

“You’re so beautiful like this, have I told you?” 

Dawn is starting to creep through the blinds of the bedroom window, but Steve keeps running reverent hands over Eddie’s belly, eyes full of awe, and Eddie preens under the attention. 

“Don’t mind if you tell me again, big boy.” 

Steve purrs, pushing back Eddie’s sweaty fringe so that he can kiss his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “Absolutely breathtaking. My mate, carrying my child. I’m gonna put so many in you.” 

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Eddie yawns, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back as well as he can. The movement makes Steve’s knot, still large and locked inside of him, catch deliciously. “Can we just try to make it one after the other? I like actually walking places instead of rolling. Call me old-fashioned, but it’s an ability I’m rather attached to.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Steve gives him a smug grin and rolls his hips. “There's another thing you're attached to right now, and that's my-.” 

Eddie slaps a hand in front of his mouth. “Ugh, you're such a dork. I hope the kid doesn't inherit your sense of humor.” 

Steve kisses his open palm. 

“I hope they inherit your everything,” he says, ridiculously earnest, and Eddie needs to bury his face in the sheets to hide the way his face ignites. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles at the pillows, ignoring how Steve’s chest quivers with barely concealed laughter. “Let's go back to sleep. Have you looked at the time?” 

“Says the one who woke me because he needed to get dicked,” Steve grumbles, but obediently pulls the covers over them, curling himself around Eddie. 

Silence descends over the bedroom, and Eddie loses himself in Steve’s soothing scent as he slowly begins to drift off again. 

“Don't listen to him,” he hears Steve whisper, just before sleep claims him. “I'm hilarious and he knows it.” 

A warm hand settles on his belly. 

“Sleep well. Can't wait to meet you.” 

More smutty September

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao

enemies to lovers

'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'

minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.

'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'

'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'

he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.

'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'

shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.

'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'

'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'

'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'

minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'

'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'

and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'

five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'

'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.

reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'

hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'

it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'

'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'

a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[aziraphales-library]

this is going to sound slightly stupid i’m begging you to bear with me

you know those fanfics from like 2013, the rpf’s that (usually) were about musicians like harry styles or brenden urie?

they’d go something along the lines of, ‘not-like-other-girls’ sitting in the crowd of a concert her friend dragged her out to, but she just doesn’t care about the music it’s so not her thing so she reads a book during the concert (cue the groans). then the lead singer sees her and is totally taken by her uniqueness and calls her out from the stage or asks to see her after the show yada yada.

anyway, i saw some fan art of rockstar!crowley and normie!aziraphale, and i thought it’d be fun to see if there’s anything similar to those kinds of rpf’s but instead for crowley and aziraphale!

We have a #famous crowley tag you can check out. Here are some fics in which Crowley is famous and Aziraphale is not...

A rockstar's love by The_boxhead (G)

Crowley had a lot of problems finding someone to have a relationship with as the famous rockstar that he is. But that day when he entered that coffee shop and saw that blond haired man behind the counter, he didn’t want more than to get to know that beautiful angel with that cute smile.

Star Crossed by AppleSeeds (T)

When Crowley, the lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Sixth Circle, agrees to take part in a radio show discussion feature, the last thing he expects is to come away from it completely smitten with a man who must be the world's most adorable magician. Crowley's uncharacteristic behaviour towards Aziraphale during the show doesn't go unnoticed by the listeners, with speculation soon running rife online. Only one thing for it - Crowley just needs to engineer an opportunity to see Aziraphale again. All in the name of generating publicity, of course.

Never Too Late by AppleSeeds (T)

It's been thirty-five years since the height of Aziraphale's enormous crush on rockstar Anthony Crowley, but when he sees that Anthony is still performing, Aziraphale feels he owes it to his younger self not to pass up the opportunity to finally hear him sing live. The last thing he expects is for Anthony to actually approach him once the concert is over, extending an invitation that surpasses every fantasy Aziraphale harboured about him as a young man and resulting in the most memorable night of his life.

The Only One I Still Know How to See by Furuba_Fangirl (E)

Aziraphale has been an admirer of Anthony J. Crowley for years. However, the gap between audience member and stage actor begins to thin when they are given the chance to officially meet.

Soho by Lurlur (E)

Aziraphale lives a quiet kind of life, running a quiet specialist bookshop in one of the liveliest districts of London. He's content with his lot, happy with his friends, tolerant of his probably-human housemate, living vicariously through the gossip pages. One day, a chance encounter with Anthony Crowley, lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Demons, threatens to turn his whole world upside down.

Find the Light by klikandtuna (E)

I saw a collection of gifs on tumblr combining David Tennant as a rock star and Michael Sheen as a school headmaster (see the notes of Chapter 1 for a link to the post!) and someone said that it ought to be a fic, sooooo I've made it a fic. Here's a heapin' helping of rock-star Crowley and headmaster Aziraphale! Now with shiny new cover art, also by me!

Win a Date With Anthony J. Crowley! by Caedmon (E)

Crowley is a world-famous rock star who sells out arenas. His name is synonymous with 'rock-n-roll', and he thrives on the spotlight. When he agrees to raffle off a date with himself for charity, he's expecting to meet an overzealous fan that wants to wear his skin and very well might try to roofie him. What he's not expecting is to be instantly attracted to the quiet man with the unusual name who shows up for the date at the Ritz... and he's certainly not expecting for Aziraphale to have no clue who he is...

- Mod D

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. 1.5 | Spencer Reid x Reader

Okay so, WOW. I am completely blown away by the response to my first fic on here, 120 followers in 6 days are you guys okay? Because I am definitely not :,). While accidents pt. II isnt quite finished just yet (thank you so much for being so patient with me<3 uni is kicking my ass already rip), I thought I'd give you all a small sneak peek, aka the first 800-ish words of the second part. I hope you enjoy and thank you all so so much for the generous feedback so far!! <333 I'll go rewatch my genetics lecture now yippie :,,,,)

here you can read the entire first part, please head the warnings! Same ones apply here. also, if you wanna get tagged in pt. II, let me know in the comments!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

oh spencer, you weren't quite as subtle as you thought. rip my boy. also whooops another cliffhanger? haha my fingers must've slipped my bad

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[jetii]

So excited you are taking requests! I love your work ❤! Could I request a S(ish)FW (language and innuendos ok, basically anything except actual smut) with Prompt #56? I was thing fem Jedi!reader and Crosshair having a snarky/flirting conversation post mission? Maybe leads up to implied sexy times, I'll leave that up to you.

This prompt was so Crosshair lol thank you for requesting it!

Grateful

Pairing: Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

Words: 3,132

Tags/Warnings: fluff, canon-typical violence, arguing as a form of flirting, a gratuitous amount of swearing, some making out but nothing too crazy

Prompt: 56. “I-I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” / “Surprisingly that is not the first time I’ve heard that.”

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Eyes up, General.” Crosshair's smooth voice sounds in your ear. “You’ve got company.”

You quickly pocket your datapad, taking a look around the forest. You don't see anything, and you look up at the tree where you know Crosshair is perched, the tip of his rifle just barely poking through the leaves. 

"How many?" you ask, keeping your voice low.

"Just one, but it's a big one."

You take another look around the trees. "Where is it? I don't see anything."

"You will."

“That’s not helpful,” you grumble, turning back to your datapad, tapping on the screen to wake it back up. The screen lights up, and you go back to your notes, continuing your read through as you walk through the woods, your eyes flicking up every so often to glance around you.

Nothing.

Your eyes focus back on the datapad. You’re still searching for an elusive herb that is supposedly native to this planet, one which is a rare and valuable medicinal ingredient. It’s not uncommon for Jedi and other medics to search for them, though it was a pain to do so. Making matters more complicated was that this planet was so far removed from the Republic that you were risking getting into trouble just by being here. 

The natives had yet to be contacted by the Republic, so your presence was an unknown to them. You don't even know if they're civilized enough to communicate with you, and if they were, whether or not they'd be hostile to you.

What you do know is that you’d be punished if you were caught on this planet without permission, and the last thing you wanted was to be sent to the AgriCorps. Again.

Crosshair, of course, thinks you're stupid for even thinking about searching for this herb. He had made a point to tell you exactly what he thought as the two of you set off earlier this morning. You’d left Tech and Echo behind to repair the ship’s systems, while the two of you went out to explore, Hunter and Wrecker doing the same in the opposite direction.

Crosshair was less than pleased at the idea, but he'd agreed to go with you anyway, even if his reasoning was more to ensure you wouldn’t get yourself killed.

As much as you hated to admit it, the sniper was probably right. Your chances of actually finding this herb was slim. You'd spent several days searching for it already, and your only reward was sore feet and an empty vial. You didn't even know how the plant was supposed to look, other than the brief description provided to you by a Jedi Master who had been on this planet before and some poor quality photos.

Small, white, fragrant flowers. Leaves long and thin, shaped like a star, growing in groups of five.

You were sure there was plenty of vegetation that matched the description on this planet. Hell, it was a forest, and it seemed like everything was green. The only problem was finding the right one.

You had no idea how long you had until the flower stopped blooming, and the plant lost its medicinal value. If you didn't find it soon, you'd have to leave, and then you'd be forced to return home empty handed, without the rare herb and with no explanation as to why you'd returned without it.

And worse, Crosshair would be proven right.

The thought of that alone was enough to make you want to find the damn thing.

You walk a few steps farther, pausing at a small clearing in the forest. You glance at your datapad again, checking your notes, then scan the ground for any sign of the flower.

"It's not there."

You look up. You don't see Crosshair anywhere.

"Where are you?" you ask.

"Behind you."

You turn and look, and you still can't see him. "Well, if you're going to criticize my choices, the least you could do is get down here and help."

"I am helping. By keeping you alive."

You scowl. "Where the hell are you?"

"You should really watch your language, General."

You roll your eyes. "Come down here and help me," you say.

"Help you with what?"

You jump and turn, letting out a surprised yelp when you see Crosshair standing next to you, the butt of his rifle resting on the ground, one hand resting on it, the other on his hip. His helmet is still on, and you're unable to read his expression. You hadn't heard him approach, and it had startled you, enough so that your hand had gone to the lightsaber at your waist.

"What is wrong with you?" you demand.

He tilts his head. "I didn't realize you were so jumpy.”

"Yeah, well, if you weren't always hiding in trees and making creepy comments, I wouldn't be," you grumble, releasing your hold on your saber one finger at a time.

"If I wasn't always watching your back, you'd be dead," he retorts.

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter. "You're the only reason we're not all dead."

"You're welcome."

You let out a sigh and roll your eyes. You’re sure he’s smirking underneath his helmet, and you're not entirely sure how you feel about it. There's something about him that irritates you, that gets under your skin, but he's also the only one on the squad that seems to pay attention to you. And he does a good job of it, too.

It's strange, really, because he seems to notice things about you that nobody else does. He knows when you're annoyed, or upset, or when you need to eat. He can tell when you're not sleeping well, or when you're tired, or when you're distracted. And when you're focused, like now.

The two of you spend a moment staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. You can practically see the smirk on his face, and you narrow your eyes, not trusting him. He's the most unpredictable member of the squad, and he always seems to catch you off guard. He seems to take great pride in it, too, and you don't appreciate it.

"Whatever," you finally say, turning back to your datapad and looking at it again. The description of the herb and its supposed medicinal value was all well and good, but the picture of the plant was very generic. It looked like pretty much every plant in this damn forest.

"Do you actually have any idea what you're looking for?" he asks, stepping up next to you.

You give him a withering look, and he just stares back at you.

"No," you hiss. He chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes your skin prickle. "You wanna tell me what's so funny?"

"Not really," he says, his helmet turning towards you.

"Asshole," you mutter, turning away from him and scanning the ground. He's still staring at you, and the feeling of his eyes on you makes your skin crawl. "Do you mind?"

"No," he replies, his voice low. His helmet tilts to the side as he watches you, and you can feel your cheeks growing warm. He's close, and it makes you feel uneasy, but you don't back down, and he doesn't move.

“Look, if you don't want to be here, you can leave," you say, turning to him, your voice rising.

He takes a step closer, and you have to fight the urge to back away. You stand your ground, and he leans closer, the black visor of his helmet mere inches from your face.

He scoffs. “And get blamed when you disappear and die on this planet? No thanks."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

He shrugs. "Wouldn't matter to me," he says. "But I like to think of myself as a loyal soldier. Wouldn't leave a comrade behind, no matter how idiotic the mission. Or the person.”

You roll your eyes. He's just trying to piss you off, and he's succeeding.

"You're insufferable," you hiss. "Get lost, and stop following me. That's an order."

He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Can't," he says. "I'm stuck with you."

"Why?"

He doesn't answer, just shrugs.

"Then just leave," you mutter, turning and walking away. You hear him follow behind, but you don't bother to look. You know he'll keep pace with you.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, before he speaks.

"What exactly are we looking for, anyway?"

"Are you actually going to help, or are you just gonna complain?"

"Complain, probably."

"Then leave."

"Not until you do."

"Ugh," you groan. "Fine. Look for anything with long, thin leaves, and white flowers."

"What does it do?"

"You don't care."

"Probably not, but I'm asking anyway."

"It's for an antidote," you reply. "For a poison. It's very rare, and expensive, and the only way to obtain it is by harvesting the flower. If we can find one with roots in tact, we can bring it back with us and grow our own. But the only place it's grown is here, and the blooming season is only a few days and then it's over."

"Sounds like a lot of trouble," he comments.

"It's worth it," you argue. "This could save thousands of lives."

"So, what do I look for?" he asks. You give him a look, and he shakes his head. "What? You asked for my help. Tell me what to do."

"Fine," you sigh. "The flower is usually found growing at the base of a tree or shrub, and the roots are long and deep, and it has a unique scent."

"Unique how?"

"I don't know, it's like..." You wrinkle your nose, thinking. "Like... honey and mint, I think? It's hard to explain. I don't really smell it myself, but that's what I was told."

Crosshair stares at you for a moment, his hands flexing. He looks like he's contemplating something, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he just turns away, walking into the woods.

"Cross?"

"Keep your eyes open, and don't die," he calls back.

"Where are you going?"

"To find your precious herb," he replies, waving over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes. "Just don't get lost!"

He doesn't answer, disappearing among the trees.

You continue on your way, stopping every so often to check the ground for any sign of the flower, and then move on. The day passes slowly, and you feel yourself getting more and more frustrated. Your frustration only grows when you see the sun starting to set, the sky slowly darkening.

"Fuck," you grumble, turning and heading back in the direction of the ship. Crosshair had left hours ago, and you hadn't seen or heard from him since. You had no idea where he was, or if he was still alive.

"Cross, you there?" you ask, tapping your comm.

Nothing.

"Crosshair, come in."

Still nothing.

You let out a frustrated huff. He was probably fine, but that didn't stop the worry from creeping up inside of you. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear, but you had expected him to stay close to you, especially after insisting that he stick with you.

"Dammit," you growl, turning back around. You're about to call out for him again, when you hear a twig snap behind you. You go still, your hand instinctively going to your lightsaber, and you spin around, igniting it.

You're not prepared for what greets you.

You're met by a massive, six-legged creature, easily three times your size, and twice as wide. It's covered in thick, shaggy fur, its legs ending in sharp talons. It lets out a growl, its teeth bared, saliva dripping from its mouth.

You're frozen in place, your heart pounding. You can't move, your limbs trembling, and you try to think, to find a way out of this, but you can't.

The creature takes a step towards you, its head lowered, and you can feel the air around you shift as it inhales. It's trying to catch your scent.

You grip the hilt of your lightsaber tightly, willing your hands to stop shaking, trying to keep the blade steady. You’ve fought bigger, more dangerous things than this. You can handle it.

You swallow hard, trying to calm your nerves. You can do this. You're a Jedi.

The creature opens its mouth, a low, rumbling growl echoing in the woods. It's almost on top of you now, and you brace yourself, knowing you have to act, or you'll be dead.

You move forward, swinging your lightsaber towards the creature. It reacts immediately, lunging at you.

A loud shot rings through the forest, and the creature stumbles, its head jerking to the side. Another shot, and another, and the creature falls, the life draining from its body.

You stand there for a moment, your lightsaber humming quietly, the smell of the creature's blood filling the air. You can feel your heart beating wildly, and you know you should be relieved, but you're not. You're angry, and terrified.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You could have gotten yourself killed."

Crosshair is standing next to you, his rifle aimed at the creature, his eyes hidden behind the black visor of his helmet. His hands are steady, his finger resting lightly on the trigger, and you can feel the tension radiating off of him.

Okay, now you're furious.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you demand, glaring at him. "There’s no way the locals didn’t hear that. We're going to be in so much shit."

"That thing was about to kill you, and all you can think about is how much trouble you're going to be in?"

"Yes!"

He lowers his rifle and pulls off his helmet, and you're met with his usual expression of disdain. "You're unbelievable."

"Where the hell were you, anyway?"

"Helping you," he says.

"Bullshit," you hiss. "If you were helping me, we'd have found the damn flower by now."

He holsters his rifle and digs into the pouch on his belt, pulling out a vial and holding it up.

You stare at it for a moment, not believing what you're seeing. It can't be. There's no way.

"Are you kidding me?" you ask, snatching the vial out of his hand and turning it over. Sure enough, inside is a small, white flower, its roots still intact.

"You're welcome."

"This can't be real," you murmur, your eyes widening as you stare at the herb. It's everything you'd hoped for, and more.

"It is," he says.

You turn to him, your mouth hanging open. “I…”

"It's okay," he says, taking the vial back and handing you his helmet. "You can say it."

“I—I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you cover your mouth with your free hand, your face burning.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he tilts his head.

“Surprisingly not the first time I’ve heard that," he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It just slipped out," you protest. "I didn't--"

"Sure you did," Crosshair cuts in, taking a step towards you. He's close, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, and it makes your knees weak. "I've got that effect on people."

"I hate you," you whisper, unable to look away from him.

"No, you don't," he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

You gasp, but don't pull away, your eyes fluttering closed as his hands rest on your hips, pulling you against him. His lips are soft, his kiss gentle, and you can't help but kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, his helmet dangling from your fingers.

The two of you are pressed together, his warmth surrounding you, and you melt into his embrace. You're not sure how long you stand there, your lips moving against his, your heart pounding in your chest.

You can't seem to think straight, and all you can focus on is him, his touch, his scent, his taste. He takes a step forward, and you gasp as your back hits a tree, his body pinning you there. He takes advantage of the opportunity, his tongue slipping past your lips, exploring your mouth. You moan softly, and he deepens the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

Your knees are trembling, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid that you'll fall. He seems to sense this, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His armor is hard, digging into your skin, and you let out a soft whimper, a sound that makes him smirk against your lips.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes are dark and hooded, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing hard. He doesn't speak, just stares at you, his gaze intense.

"Thank you," you finally whisper.

“For the flowers or the kiss?" he asks.

"Both."

He smiles, and it's one of the first genuine smiles you've ever seen from him. He's beautiful, and you can't help but stare at him, his sharp features, his piercing eyes.

"Come on," he says, pulling back and taking your hand. "Let's get back to the ship before the locals figure out we're here. You can show me how grateful you are later."

Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up your neck. 

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, rolling your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he takes your hand and tugs you towards the ship. The two of you walk in silence, his fingers laced through yours. He's surprisingly gentle, his touch light, his thumb brushing over your skin.

You're still not entirely sure what to make of him. He's cocky and arrogant, but he's also protective, and attentive. He notices things that others don't, and he does what needs to be done, even when he doesn't want to. And he doesn't let anyone else tell him what to do.

But most of all, he's the one person who's always been there for you. He's the one who's always watched over you, even when you didn't want him to. And even when he's a pain in the ass, you're glad he's there.

You steal a glance at him, and he's looking at you, his expression soft.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," he replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just wondering how grateful you're going to be."

You flush, looking away, and he chuckles, squeezing your hand.

"Shut up," you mutter, trying, and failing, to hold back a smile. You can’t deny you’re looking forward to it.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

[orangeheliophile]

Dating Puerto Rican Bakugou

Contains: Puerto Rican Bakugou x Latina/poc! reader. Bakugou also wears hearing aids in this one. Second!year Katsuki, mentions of after war, Hispanic! Sero mentioned.

●I like to think you both were best friends since you were kids, always sticking together and not just because your mothers were so friends, but because Katsuki had a humongous crush on you and you thought he was the coolest person in the world. Since growing up in Japan, there weren't a lot of people who spoke your language, so another reason you both stayed together.

●His skin would look tanner, maybe have a few beauty marks and more visible scars. Other than that, he's still the same. The same, explosion pomeranian boy with rabies.

●He is a surprisingly great dancer, being an expert in salsa, merengue, bachata, cha-cha, and tango. He's got the hips for it.

●When he grows the courage to ask you out, he would confess to you in Spanish, whispering promises to you that you have his entire heart and soul. (He's secretly a hopeless romantic, but the Hispanic version.) Bro has rizz when he wants it.

●When he asked you out, he said, "Can I be your boyfriend?" Instead of, "Will you be my girlfriend?" Because he only cares about being yours. He belongs to you, and you only. You're not an object, but if you're comfortable, he'll definitely brag to others how you're his.

●His cooking is absolutely divine. If you want something to eat, sit down and look pretty. If he weren't going to be a hero, he would definitely be a chef. He would make you sopita when you're sick, dulce de leche when he wanted you to cuddle him, and he would make all of your favorite foods for you. Just for you, and nobody else.

●He would call you nicknames such as: corazón, amor, bebé, mí cielito, princesa, mamí... and your heart would skip a beat every time. You will definitely return the favor, though, watching his face turn redder than Kirishima's hair.

●He cusses in Spanish a lot, inheriting his mother's anger as well as the attitude. Whenever he watches fútbol, he gets even more passionate about the sport.

●Speaking of his mother, she loves you more than she loves her son. She always demands asks Katsuki to tell you that you're always welcome to visit and that he brings all the snacks she makes for you. She also wants you to marry her son so she doesn't have to deal with his bratty ass. But mainly because you would be her daughter-in-law!

●He always takes you out on dates, sticking your hips together using Sero's duct tape. He's really clingy, always rambling how you're going to get cold, or that you shouldn't be away from him where he can't see you.

●If he doesn't know where you are, he's running around looking for you like a headless chicken. He's secretly a lovesick puppy, constantly craving your attention, and if he doesn't get it, people find it best to back away from him so he doesn't explode.

●He usually hates hearing extras talk. It annoys the hell out of him, making him want to throw out his hearing aids so he can finally get some peace and quiet. You, however, please don't shut up. Your voice is absolutely music to his hears. He loves hearing you ramble about anything. His heart melts at the sight of you mixing up your words while having the happiest smile on your face.

●He knows how to knit and crochet. So whenever it gets cold, he always makes you sweaters, scarves, and blankets to keep you warm. He always makes sure to add things you like, just to make you happy and want to kiss him some more.

●He needs at least five good mornings/good night kisses, six hundred hugs, a ton of cuddles, seven billion 'te amó con todo mí corazóns,' and a bunch of more besitos just to survive and hour. Yes, an hour. Give him what he wants.

●He will never admit it, but he secretly enjoys some telenovelas. His mother always watched them when he was younger, and most of the time, it seemed pretty stupid to him. But he enjoys some of the drama.

●Whenever you want to cuddle and watch a movie, he makes hot chocolate, already having baked cookies as he tucks you into a blanket burrito while sitting you on his lap. He's already kissing your cheek, playing with your hair as you sip on your warm drink and munch on the homemade cookies.

●He wants to take you on vacation to Puerto Rico, show you the streets of San Juan, go hiking with you at El Yunique National forests, and of course introduce you to the rest of his family.

●Of course, he plays the drums, but he likes playing the Spanish guitar as well. He would definitely play romantic songs for you when you're both alone.

●If you have curly hair, oh, he would definitely help you with your routine. He will always search for the best products and be extremely careful not to mess up your curls when he plays with your hair. He loves curly hair. It's so unique and badass in his opinion.

●He's always kind of had a thing for women with dark skin. He finds it pretty when their skin practically glows in the sunlight.

●We all know he gets temper tantrums, but he would act like a whiny/angry toddler when you don't give him affection. And since he cusses a lot and is already dramatic, he would be even more dramatic when he complains in Spanish and acts like he's dying of heartbreak.

●Not only is he an expert at fighting, but he also knows the way of the chancla. The most dangerous weapon of them all. He protects, he attacks, and he most definitely doesn't hold back. Especially when it comes to you, just say the word, and he'll obliterate the person to smithereens.

●Even if he's going to become the future top hero, he knows he would be the perfect malewife. This man can cook, clean, is multi-talented, and would he great with your kids. He would make sure you're always pampered and spoiled with his love.

●He may not seem like it, but he's also a good singer. So if you're in the mood to listen to romantic mushy Spanish songs, he's already swaying your body with his as he sings softly into your ear while dancing in the kitchen with you.

●He definitely has a Puerto Rican banner in his dorm room, right next to an All Might poster and a picture of you. He's not ashamed of his heritage, and he won't ever deny his love for you and admiration for All Might.

●Whenever he's feeling down, he likes to drink Coquito and cuddle you for the rest of the day, watching a romance movie as you play with his hair and give him healing smooches.

●When you both were younger and one of you got a small scratch or bruise, you would definitely do the "sana sana colita de rana" and then kiss the others' boo boos better. Over time, when nobody's watching, you both still do it. It's the best remedy for healing! Besides besitos y abrazitos.

●If you're feeling insecure because your body isn't "stereotypical" to your culture or that you can't speak your language very well, he will do everything in his power to change your mind. He'll scoop you in his arms, sit you on his lap, and do his best to say comforting words to you because his princesa deserves none of this! Eventually, he helps you love yourself more, and step by step, you're both growing closer to one another by how supportive you both are.

●Sero is also Hispanic, being half Mexican made the both of you have someone to talk to. Katsuki and Sero would definitely gossip to each other about the other students. Katsuki's arm would be around your shoulders as the two give judgy looks to people doing stupid things. (You're just doodling on your coloring book while they gossip.)

●Since Mina and Izuku have curly hair, they would absolutely help you whenever you were having trouble with yours. Even if Katsuki threw a temper tantrum every time he didn't get to do it for you. But he will never admit he appreciates them being there for you.

●If you didn't think he was clingy before the war, he's suffocating you even more. Although his right arm is damaged and his heart needs to heal, this boy is constantly stuck to your hip thanks to Sero's duct tape, and you feel the same way, too. You will occasionally give him healing besitos all over his injuries and will reassure him that everything will be okay.

●Just like how you steal his hoodies and shirts, he does the same. Since you like to wear oversized clothes sometimes, he won't hesitate to steal them and wear them proudly. Boasting to others how he's yours.

●You both wear matching layered necklaces resembling each other's quirks. He wears a small explosion charm with another pendant resembling your quirk; yours is the same way.

●Since you're both too young to marry legally, he bought you both promise rings. Having a combination of your quirks engraved on the ring. Don't worry, you both already married when you were five. (He proposed to you with his grandmother's wedding ring. Mama Mitsuki was not happy. But she was happy when she saw you in an adorable frilly dress!)

I wanna write more of these scenarios, but I want to finish a request in my drafts and I've been working on it a lot, and I want it to be good and I want people to like it and, and-😭😔

Anyway, I had fun making this one! :)

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part five]

Summary: Azriel and Eowyn begin their one-on-one training. A request is made.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: male/female sparring, blink-and-you-miss-it praise kink, slow-burn

Minors, do not interact

a/n: this scene was actually the first one I wrote and i've rewritten it so many times i don't even know what words are anymore. sorry its so short!

part four

"I held your hand until the light/ The scars were on the back

And all the time we were the right/ Was it just retract?

And they can try to put you down, wear you out/ Get you through the idea of the luck

Well, I thought you were the sweetest kill

Did we even know?"

Broken Social Scene, Sweetest Kill

She had to remind herself, for what felt like a million times that first day, that there was nothing to feel nervous about. It’s not that she felt uneasy or unsafe with the Shadowsinger. Quite the opposite. In the past few months that she’d been training with the rest of the Valkyries, she’d embraced the newfound strength and confidence that rose within her, both physically and mentally. Found out she actually enjoyed spending time with others, not only the priestesses, but also the High Lady on the semi-frequent occasions she visited the House of Wind, and of course, with the Illyrians as well.

Although she wouldn’t go so far as to call Cassian and Azriel her friends, there was more than professional respect shared amongst them. It wasn’t hard to break that wall of professionalism with Cassian, in fact he insisted on it lest he feel restricted or stilted by such a superfluous thing as polite manners, but Azriel… Azriel was entirely different.

To Cassian that is. Because every time Eowyn interacted with Azriel, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense that she knew him, or rather, that he knew her. She didn’t know where the stupid idea came from. In fact, whenever it sprung back to the front of her mind when she was near him, she promptly banished it away at once, yet it always returned.

Thus, the fact that they spent the first training session in absolute silence other than Azriel’s given instructions and occasional corrections only made it that much more awkward. And irritating.

Eowyn wasn’t the most talkative fae by nature, much preferring to observe her surroundings than interact, but something about the silence between them irked her. It wasn’t so much that he wasn’t talking that bothered her, it was that there seemed to be so much left unspoken between them. Like they were both on the verge of an important revelation and neither of them had the balls to speak up first.

So two days later during their second session together, she gathered her wits and decided to get the job done herself.

The pair were currently sparring with long wooden staffs. The first few months of her training consisted of learning and getting used to the basics: breathing exercises, core strengthening, stamina building, with an emphasis on building the necessary strength and muscle to carry on the rest. Soon, she learned the basics of hand-to-hand combat, had moved on to sword fighting (with practice wooden swords, of course), and had even spent a few weeks learning archery. 

She was aware that sparring with her was like child’s play for Azriel. She had seen him truly spar with his brothers to know that he could kill her with a single hand, and one had to only glimpse at them— at the panting breaths puffing out at the veil covering her face, arms bare for once and glittering with sweat due to the day’s heat (on its last trenches of summer in its attempt to give them its all before it settled in for a seasonal retreat)— and him, face serious and focused on her movements and technique but otherwise untouched by both the sweltering weather and the exertion she felt and was sure to feel for days.

“May I-“ she interrupted herself with a hiss when the end of his staff hit her thigh, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to point out a lapse in her defense. She smacked it away with the end of hers, not bothering to get into position before attacking, hoping it would serve as a distraction to get a hit in. Clearly, her lousy attempt didn’t work, earning her another two whacks on either side of her arms for her lack of defense and centering herself before attacking.

The goal of their extra training lesson consisted of one thing, Azriel had told her, she just needed to get one hit in. If she got a hit in, they would be done for the day and would meet in two days time to try another technique in which she had the same goal.

Smug bastard knew it wouldn’t happen, thus, she had to remain for the remainder of the two hours they were set to train together.

“May I ask you a question?” she huffed, taking a step back to center herself. She angled her body only slightly to the side, making sure to keep her weight centered as she held her staff up in a defense position, knees bent slightly.

She awaited his response as she awaited his attack. He swung his staff at his side in a skillful swoop as he considered her for a moment. The response came first. “Within reason.”

In a flurry of movement, much too fast for her to comprehend, he had her both disarmed and on her ass. She scowled up at him even though he couldn’t see her face. Still, he snorted lightly in amusement, as if he knew just exactly what she’d called him in her mind, before extending a hand out for her.

“It’s about your shadows,” she confessed as she gripped his hand for him to yank her up. Didn’t even think about it when she did so, but when she touched his hand and felt the scars under her fingertips, scars she’d seen him hide away in shame, she couldn’t help the way her fingers lightly grazed them as he gently pulled away once she was on her feet. She felt him tense under her hand at her words, however, his lips pursing almost imperceptibly.

“Nothing invasive,” she promised immediately, unsure of how to tell him she didn’t mean to ask how he came to master his shadows. Didn’t want to inquire after something so intimate. “I'm just curious about them. If they’re sentient, if they’re their own magic or if they’re the same as the shadows there,” she gestured towards the stairs vaguely with her head, “if they’re different from my own shadow. If they have opinions…. If they share them with you” she looked down at the silhouette of her formed at her feet from the sun's light.

He considered her words, only angling his head in a gesture to continue. She picked up her staff and took her defense position once more, awaiting. 

“Yes and no,” he replied cryptically. She rolled her eyes behind her veil. When he didn’t elaborate and shifted to mirror her stance, she understood. Didn’t know how but she didn’t miss a beat at her queue.

Attack.

Though he was ready for it, she went to strike fast and hard, diagonally right to left, using her other hand to swing the staff around, advancing as she did to slice, hard, once, twice, three times, she swung low for his feet and used the momentary shift in movement to swing back up and strike forward and then swing.

He smoothly parried each swing, staff swiftly connecting with hers with a force that rattled her bones, meeting each strike and shifting out of the way as she tried to push him back. Not once did she manage to get even close to hit him and yet his eyes glinted with a satisfaction she had never seen before, especially not directed at her.

She and Azriel? Yeah, they weren’t close like that. So why was she feeling a strange kind of familiarity with him as if she knew him and he understood her?

Begone, she mentally hissed at the thought, parrying off his own quick attempt to sneak an attack and responding in kind.

“Good, Eowyn” he almost purred, and the shiver that ran down her spine at the praise and the way her name rolled off his tongue was so powerful she almost didn’t hear the words that followed. “They are sentient, and they are their own entity, but they’re also an extension of myself. They make sure their opinions are known to me,” he emphasized, his show of only the briefest instances of fondness for his shadows causing something in her to perk up at attention. Then his face contorted, “As for how they operate among the shadows…. How I travel through them, I… apologize. I’ve never been good at explaining them. Even my brother’s don’t fully understand…”

“I understand,” she nodded earnestly, before shaking her head, “I mean I don’t understand because I don’t have shadows obviously but I can empathize with the… feeling.” Her words lost their spark towards the end, the last word coming out stiltedly and rough.

If he thought her a fool, it didn’t show on his face. 

“Let’s go through that again, there were a few places you left your guard open.”

Once he’d had her repeat the exact movements she had done and had constructively criticized every aspect of them and had her do it twice more ‘but properly this time,’ he spoke up.

“You’re not from the Night Court, are you?”

She tilted her head slightly, considering pulling the same move he did, but then decided against it, too interested in where the conversation was leading.

“What makes you think that?”

“Your accent,” he replied immediately, “it’s good. Enough to convince anyone else, but I can hear it in the cadence of certain vowels, like when you said ‘ask.’”

The deftness with which he provided not only his argument, which was a certainty at this point, but also clear examples shouldn’t have sent her for a loop but it did. Only briefly.  Because he was the Spymaster of the Court of Nightmares, after all, and a notorious one at that.

“And where am I from?” She couldn't help but challenge. Suddenly it wasn’t the infamous Shadowsinger, often serving as the Night Court’s torturer and executioner, asking her questions, but rather it was her testing how much of the rumors and whispers that breezed in the wind were true about him. At that moment, eyes locked on his, even though he couldn’t see hers, standing before each other in paralleling fighting stances, she found him immeasurably fascinating.

She wanted to open his mind and inspect every thought, every secret, everything that made him him.

His jaw twitched, wings ruffling slightly. She grinned under the veil.

“You were the only one, out of all the priestesses, that didn’t bask in the sun when you came out here for the first time.”

Again, she wasn’t sure why she was surprised by how much he noticed. She had seen him almost as soon as she’d crossed the threshold leading up from the stairs that first time, but he had been talking with Cassian, facing away from her.

“I-“ he hesitated for once. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable-“

“You’re not.”

He startled slightly at the firmness of her tone but took it well, only nodding once before continuing.

“You joined us in early spring. By summer, almost everyone wore less layers due to the heat, but you didn’t… I mean, until recently,” he cleared his throat, and if Eowyn didn’t know any better she could’ve sworn the tip of his ears turned pink as he glanced down at her bare arms. “I can only assume it’s because you don’t like feeling the sun on your skin.”

Quite accurate.

“So… any guesses?”

She hadn’t noticed when they had stopped, her staff was still in her grasp but they now stood in front of each other, simply talking.

“Winter.”

She tilted her head, slightly disappointed but figured it was as good a guess as any. Her contempt for the sun– not something she was too vocal about– had less to do with the time of day or weather and more to do with the feel of the heat it emanated, a reminder of the pain she’d been forced to endure. “Dawn,” she corrected, glancing at the clock to see they had ten minutes left. Didn’t linger on the thought that crossed her mind, on how time flew by without her noticing.

“But you didn’t live there long.”

“Are you still guessing or do you already know everything?”

“I don’t-“ he shook his head, looking almost affronted, if the brief flash of emotion could be called that. “I haven’t looked into you, if that’s what you mean. No. I respect your privacy, and the privacy of everyone seeking safe haven in the library.”

“With the exception of a few, though, right?” She’d heard of how he’d saved Gwyn. Had heard the same story from several other priestesses who had gushed over the handsome shadowsinger over the years.

“Well yes, but only when I’ve been able to provide help, or when I get justice for them… with their permission and by request.”

“Right,” Eowyn nodded. She glanced at the clock again. Two minutes.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to answer me?”

She hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side, “what was the question again?”

“Dawn Court. How long were you there?” his eyes narrowed.

“Why don’t you… look into it?”

He stared at her blankly. 

She sighed. “You have my permission. In fact,” she swung the staff at her side in the exact perfect synchronized way he had done before when taunting her, “let’s call it a request.”

part six

taglist: @lilah-asteria , @a-courtof-azriel, @honk4emoboyz , @feyretopia , @mrsjna , @buttermilktea11 , @bravo-delta-eccho , @kylieinwonderland

[tsukasalover]

(credits to ssruis)

This song is the only thing keeping me going I do not play about mr showtime 😞 nothing ruined me (made my life better) the way this song did

(Sendn. Me songs to do this with in my ask box… sniffle…)

[katyspersonal]

Tumblr sorta needs a 'Mute' feature in my opinion. Like what if I don't want to block this user, what if I don't want to become enemies and in some days I'd like to interact. But also most of the time seeing how they avidly encourage everyone else whereas I get the passive-aggressive 'oh yeah very uhh... interesting... (please leave me alone I don't like your art lol)' makes me want to unfollow every single fan of these characters and never draw them again.

I remember two years ago the exact same thing happened when someone liked the same character and the same ship and I swear I was the only person in the fandom they bluntly left out and could not spare a single good word for. I can't even blame this on my art being "ugly" because this type of user always aggressively praises all art styles and all levels of skill, it feels more like 'a personal thing except we never fought a single time'. And now my toxic trait of needing approval from [cool person name] is back to haunt me years later! Add the unability to "abandon" this character/ship/whatever despite wanting to after facing so much unspoken passive spite, because I am a contrarian and the best way to trap me into doing something is to try to exclude me from it. I didn't face attempts to very aggressively bully me out of the yard/class/community/etc, sometimes with physical violence included, only to let something mid like passive aggression online finally do it.

I am really stupid and naive person despite my age, but in like 5% of the cases I will still understand the hint and understand what is going on. Yet I have to pretend to be clueless even in rare situations when I know someone hates me, because since they never admitted it, quitting will be perceived as me being "paranoid". But dear goooood, it hurts sometimes. I hope that one day I will be numbed to being treated as a tumor on an otherwise healthy body of society that someone is dying to amputate- and always a person whose approval I want, of all people. Knowing that this day will come is one of the things that keep me going as both a person and a creator. Things like viruses and diseases still try their best to persist, so even if I am actually one, I should persist. It doesn't matter whether I actually rot everything around me or this is just my self-depreciating delusion upon focusing on people that mistreated me and not people that loved me. What matters is persisting, I just still feel angry that it hurts. I can't respond spite with spite or passive aggression with passive aggression, I can't do the 'smug asshole' when I become aware that someone tries to starve me until I "die". I can just fall over and cry about it like a kicked dog, despite being so old, especially when it is a person I didn't have anything against.

And really.. It is as simple as turning the internet off, so I don't see The Person and can focus on doing stuff that I like, as if they never existed and can't crash my self-esteem. It is just annoying to keep doing this, a feature to not see them unless I am in the mood would be better. Like.. blocking is not an option. Not only it implies being enemies which is not my intention, but also it will be like an "evidence" that I was "crazy". They didn't do anything, right? Well, they know what they did, but it was never verbal, so it is my fault I "imagined things", right?

[basically-fabulous]

u "don't vote" motherfuckers r stupid as shit

[zipmode]

thought i had ONE homework assignment due today but it turns out i have TWOOOOO FUCK MY STUPID BAKA LIFE

[weareuniqueandimportant]

We Made A Post. Perfect. Amazing. Easily Godlike.

Only For Them To Be Removed Once Again... And Gasslight As "Just A Glitch"...

No... This Is Nothing But A Way To Attack And Erase Progressive Things... Showcase This Abuser... Called Tumblr Has An EVIL And BIGOTED MONSTER AGENDA...

Make Us Transition. We Live In Finland Freeze Our Little Ones And Give Us Diy Hrt. We Deserve So Much. Especially When We're Nothing But Abused All The Time... Like Right Now... Whatever We Type In Now... Can Never Recreate This Amazing And Perfect Post... Just Like The Other Ones... But This One Was So Good... I Loved Her... And They Abused Us... Now She's Gone 😭😭😭😭...

:(... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭!!!!

I Will Finish This Post Soon... But I Am Depressed... And Traumatized... I Panic... I Could Jump Trough That Window Right Now... I Have Anxiety... Evil... Has Once Again Hurt Us As I Sweat Once Again On This Abusive Spot This The EVIL Situation We Have Been In Before More Times Than To Count... Them All Stacking Up Into This Horrible Experience... A Feeling... Inside Of Our Brain... A Dark Deep Pain... Weighing On Them... As I Sweat.. In Pain... I Could Scream!! But Can't!! Because Of This Evil Body!! And Evil Abusive Place We're In!! I Can't Show My Emotions... That Would Be... More Painfullness If Anything...

:(...

We Watched 3 Episodes Of She Hulk... I Believe A Leftist Should Prrrrtteeeee... I Believe A Leftist Should Showe Their Middle Finger Up A Company's Uncaring Asshole... I Believe We Should Be Doing That... Than Watching Like This... This Situation... All Wrong... From What Is Supposed To Be... Our Consent... VIOLATED... ONCE AGAIN AS ALWAYS... The Consept Irrelevant... But When That Is For Us... ANYTHING... CAN BE RELEVANT JUST FOR US... BECAUSE WE MATTER... WE DESERVE SPECIAL PRIVLEDGES...

:(...

😢...

I Will Take A Break From This Post Perhaps... Who Knows...? We Have Been Hurt And Harmed... Nobody Will Ever Understand!!!! OUR CRAZY PAIN... TEARING APART... OUR INSIDES...

I Love Black People... I Love This Woman... I Love Aisha In Fate The Winx Saga... That Is Racist To Oppose This Character... Only We Matter... If They Don't Matter... Then Black People Don't Matter... And That Would Be... Horrible...

I Love All The Diverse Background Characters Aswell... Tbh... They're All Like Nice Toys... Or Nice Furries... They're Nice... They're Cute... Black People Aswell... They Make Us... Feel Loved... They Make Us... Less Afraid... Evil... Want To Take Them Away... THE THINGS WE LOVE... JUST LIKE ALWAYS... JUST LIKE HOW... WE WATCHED MARVEL STOP BEING WOKE RIGHT IN FRONT OF OUR EYES!! WITH THE NEW MALE POWER FANTASY COMING!!!!

...

Nobody... Cares About Us... Nobody... Was There For Us... When ANY... OF THIS PAIN... HAPPENED... LIKE THE FACT THAT WE STILL HAVEN'T TRANSITIONED...

I Like She Hulk... I Like... Powerfull Woman... I Like... Black Best Friends... I Like... Watching Her Be Powerfull... Instead Of Rape Porn...

I Like... How Hulk Wasn't On Her Way... And Leaves... I Like... How Nice He Is... I Like... She Didn't Get Reduced To Anything... On The Screen...

I Like This Is About Her... I Like... The Woke Mcu... I Never... NEVER SAID... THEY SHOULD BE TAKEN AWAY FROM US... JUST LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE WE CARE ABOUT... JUST LIKE... EVERYTHING ELSE PROGRESSIVE... ARE YOU HAPPY NOW... LEFTIST?!?!?!?! YOU HATE WOKE THINGS!!!! YOU ONLY LIKE CONSERVATIVE THINGS!!!! YOU LOVE CONSERVATIVES!!!! YOU HATE PROGRESSIVES!!!! NOTHING LEFTIST ABOUT YOU!!!! YOU'RE EVIL!!!!

That Was... Cruel... How They Justified All Bigotry... And All Abuse... And Discrimination... In She Hulk... That Was Lame... How The Marvels Is About How Africa Shouldn't Be Made Communist Because Culture Is Evil And On The Way And Irrelevant And The Message The Same...

How Can These Be Titled... Bad Movies...? When The Previous Garbage... Was Nothing But Praised...? THAT IS THE OTHER WAY AROUND... THIS IS WHAT IS GOOD... THAT IS WHAT IS BAD... MONEY IS EVIL... MARVEL TOO... EVERYTHING WAS FAKE... EVERYONE ONLY PRETENDED TO GIVE A FUCK!! OR PERHAPS... Some Did... But... They're All... Worthless... Powerless... Pathetic... Losers... They're DESERVE NOTHING... I HOPE THEY SUFFER... THEY DESERVE THAT... JUST LIKE YOU DO... JUST LIKE EVERYONE DOES... BESIDES US!! THAT ONLY DESERVE GOOD THINGS!! LIKE TRANSITION... MAKE US... WE DESERVE ONLY GOODNESS...

This Is Fun... The Previous Is What Is Boring... The Future Is What Is Boring... WOKE MARVEL...? WAS THE BEST!!!! I WANT THEM BACK!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!! JUST LIKE I LOVE BLACK PEOPLE... AND PLUSHIES... I WANT MARVEL BACK... SHE IS MINE...

I Liked Seeing Wong. He Is Underrated He's Better And More Diverse Than Doctor Strange. Same With That Villain. I Am Glad He Was Actually Good... But They Also Spread Evil Propaganda With Him...

[emulation-0]

im a little sad today

[starbuck]

if my brain could decide whether i am “fine” or “having a nervous breakdown,” that would be great

[afaramir]

well. this morning on my commute i accidentally dropped 500 words worth of the beginnings of The Other Scenario for denethor and thorongil (impossible unresolved sexual tension for YEARS that culminates in the One single time that they fucked that did ruin both of them a bit). its a little bit i have one chance to freely-ish acknowledge that unfortunately i have come to care about you (not exclusive from hating your guts) its a little bit anticipatory grief its a lot classic denethorongil cheeky/cunty/horny its got everything. its set directly before the siege of umbar if you know what i mean hope this helps send post