purecbdoilireland-blog

[joey-the-boy]

I'm mid-rewatch of The Hollow and I forgot how much I hated these motherfuckers in season one

[skzdarlings]

bets and situations ; skz ; minho x reader

original ask: requested by anonymous: minho and “is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them?” please

pairing: lee minho/reader content info: rivals to lovers. street racing. stubborn!reader. placing bets, betting sex (still explicit consent), fucking vs making love. outdoor sex. sex on a car. explicit sexual content. word count: 3400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

-

Sure, you are a little insufferable. 

But Lee Minho is worse. 

He carries himself with an elitist pomposity, like he is above the other drivers just because he once raced professionally.  Trophies or not, he is out here with the rest of you, illegally racing cars down desert roads, placing bets in the dead of night. 

You were content until this fucker came along.  Lee Minho and the stupid pretty face that won him fan clubs and brand deals.  Ugh.  You hate him for having that life and for giving it up when it is a fantasy for you.  The world of professional racing is notoriously hostile to women.  You admit there is a tinge of bitterness on your side of every interaction, but he goads you like an asshole.    

He arrives with his usual entourage.  A couple of them are racers, though not professionals, and a couple just spectate and mind his vehicle.  He has a nice car, almost as pretty as him.

You whistle as he approaches.  He looks at you with his usual exasperation, delicate features pinched with annoyance.  His hair was a vibrant red in his racing days, quite the act of showmanship, but it’s a natural dark brown now, framing his mean, stupid, handsome face.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you say.  “Finally gonna grow a pair and race me?”

His scowl turns to a bitchy little sneer.  He laughs sarcastically. 

“Not worth the mileage,” he says.  He shoulders past you, his leather jacket against your denim.  “Winning against a little girl does nothing for my massive ego.”  He says this with a sarcastic flourish, mocking your derision of him. 

You know the comment is a deliberately cheap shot.  Unfortunately, in reality, Minho is the least chauvinist racer you have ever met, treating the women here with the same basic dignity as the men.

It’s just you he hates, because you hate him too.   It was inevitable.  You were hostile when first meeting.  You challenged him to a few too many personal races.  You were a sore loser and even worse winner.  What started as an effort to prove something spiralled into a rivalry. 

You won the last couple races.  You gloated a little too hard and now he is refusing to race you again. 

“Sure,” you say.  “Sounds to me like you’re scared to lose for the third time in a row.” 

He just keeps walking, ignoring you, which is so much more infuriating than when he snaps back. 

You decide to keep your distance tonight.  If you continue to agitate yourself, you are going to develop a stress aneurysm.   So you keep to your own group, race your own races, and collect your own winnings. 

But, ugh.

He is right there. 

Just in the corner of your eye, just skirting the periphery of your space, just breathing the same night air.  When you are looking at him, he captivates you.  When you look away, he is like an impossible itch, begging for your attention again.  You constantly catch him looking at you too, which does not help matters. 

By the end of the night, you feel like a live wire, all electricity and unbound energy.  Not a single race has satisfied you.  You won three of four, making way more money than you lost, but it is not enough.  It is never enough.  You already know how good you are.  You know you can beat most of these guys blindfolded. 

Your only perfect match is Lee Minho.  The only victory that matters is that one. 

As the crowd disperses and everyone departs, you march towards him.�� He is saying goodbye to his crewmates, his back to you, but his buddy cracks a grin when he sees you coming.  He smacks Minho on the shoulder before turning away. 

Minho turns around with a befuddled look on his face.  When he sees you, it slackens to that unamused vexation.  He pockets his hands in his leather jacket and slouches against his car.  He shakes his head as you stomp up to him. 

“One race,” you say. 

“No,” he replies, without missing a beat. 

“Why not?”

“Because I said so,” is his insufferable reply.

“That’s not an answer,” you say.

“That’s too bad.”  He gives you a final shrug then turns, opening his car door, preparing to leave. 

“Wait,” you say. 

You heart is racing.  Somehow, you feel like tonight is different from every other night.  Maybe it is the perfect crispness on the breeze, the remarkably clear sky, or maybe just the way those jeans seem to hug his thighs.  Stupid hottie.  You will have him and his attention.  You will get the better of him, one way or another.  It was all leading to this. 

“One race,” you say.  “A bet worth the mileage.” 

“I don’t need your money,” he says.

“I’m not offering money,” you reply. 

Finally, he closes the car door.  He sighs, a very loud and dramatic sigh, like you are the biggest inconvenience on earth. 

“What are you offering?” he says, facing you.  The disinterest in his tone is betrayed by the curious sweep of his gaze, an up-and-down perusal like he expects to find his prize somewhere on your body. 

Oh.

You feel flushed inside, realizing that it exactly what he is thinking.  Looking at you with a hungry, lecherous gaze, anticipating you are about to offer up yourself as a potential prize. 

It makes your heart stutter and your lips do the same, your next words all tangled up on your tongue.  It did not even occur to you to offer such a thing.  You hate him, so of course you would never think about him that way.  But now that he is looking at you like that, his expression coloured with interest and suggestion, you find yourself too shocked to even parse your feelings. 

The only thing that is obvious, abundantly obvious, is the punch of heat in your gut.  No, lower.  Heat that curls up inside you and makes you second guess.  Heat that is curious about the look in his eye. 

Then you shake your head.  You resist the urge to smack him for throwing you off.  You were in control and now you are flustered. 

“Not me,” you snap. 

His eyes, which have made their way down your whole body, follow the same path up.  He meets your gaze eventually.  Then he says nothing, because he is the worst, and just lifts an eyebrow at you. 

“My car,” you say, with no-nonsense finality.  “I bet my car.” 

He blinks at you.  Long, slow blinks like a cat.   It takes him a second to find a sentence. 

“Your car,” he says.  He tilts his head and squints, looking at you with scrutiny, like he is trying to see through your ploy.  “And what do you want if you win?” 

“Admit I’m the better driver once and for all,” you say.  The words feel a little foolish leaving your mouth.  You have been chasing the high of that confession, aggravated every time he dodged it, but saying it out loud makes you feel needy.  You clear your throat and stand straight like you are unbothered.  “That’s all I want,” you say.

He rubs a hand across his jaw, laughs incredulously, then swings his arms out at his sides. 

“Fine,” he says.

By now, everyone else has gone.  It is just you and him under the streetlights, the long empty road stretched across the dunes ahead.   You stare at one another, like there is no road and no sky, no world at all outside each other.  It is intense and all-consuming.   

You hold out a hand.  He takes it and yanks you closer to him.

“I would have told you that for free,” he says.  “Since it’s the truth.  You just had to ask.”

Now it is your turn to blink, looking at him with shock.  You would have been less stupefied if he called you a tirade of rude names, or tried to weave doubts in your mind.  Instead, he smiles at you, and it is not half as smarmy as usual.  He drops your hand and turns away, leaving you gawking at the air as he ducks into his car. 

He honks the horn, snapping you to attention. 

The heat rushes back in a hurry.  You swallow, then walk to your car on suddenly shaky legs. 

-

He wins.

Of course he wins.

You were distracted by his parting words.  You and him are so closely matched in skill that a fleeting weakness is all it takes for one to overtake the other.  You were faring well at the start, but his engine revved and your attention strayed.  Your prize was somewhat nullified by his confession, your behaviour embarrassing in hindsight.  You bet your car.  What were you thinking?

You weren’t.  And it was all his fault.   

Your car skids to a screaming halt just seconds after him.  You smack the steering wheel with frustration. 

Maybe I should have just bet my body, you think to yourself, a thought that has you shivering from something other than adrenaline.  Thoughts like that are not like you.  And Lee Minho is the last man on earth you could ever want.  Even though he is simultaneously the only man you want, or at least the only one with an opinion that matters, the only man whose attention you ever want.  He is always the highlight of your night. 

Oh god, you think with a nervous twist in your gut, I like that arrogant loser. 

Facing him is hard and it has nothing to do with losing your car. 

He is not gloating because he is not the type.  He is just leaning against his vehicle with his arms crossed, watching your nerves and passion get the better of you.  He does not flinch when you get right in his face, huffing from exertion.

“Do-over,” you say.

“Absolutely not,” he replies. 

“You got in my head on purpose.” 

“I can only do that if you let me in,” he says, looking smug.

“One more race,” you insist. 

“You have nothing left to bet.”

“Me,” you blurt.  “I bet myself.” 

You feel some satisfaction at the flicker of surprise that creases his brow, but then he is just staring and blinking again.  Your heart still thinks it is in a race, stampeding so far ahead that your whole body is awash with heat. 

“You,” he finally says.  His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, then he tilts his head in that studious way. “What does that mean?” 

You feel so hot it is making you a little woozy.  It’s just aftershocks from the race, you tell yourself, even though that heat comes from somewhere much more intimate. 

You cross your arms stubbornly.  You look away.  You even stomp your foot. 

“You know what I fucking mean,” you snap. 

“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he asks in a teasing tone.  “By fucking your way out of them?”

You refuse to answer.  You arms are still crossed, your face still turned.   

He touches your chin, a painfully delicate touch.  Whenever you do fuck someone, it is hard and fast, like everything else you enjoy.  Your greatest rival should be touching you with the roughest touch of all, but it is the very opposite.   It is a suggestion of a touch, little more than a caress as he turns your face to his.  You swallow until the intense focus of his sharp eyes. 

“I don’t fuck like that,” he says.  He bats his pretty eyelashes while smirking like a devil.  “I don’t have to make bets.  I make love to people because they want it.  Sorry.”  He rolls his eyes and turns away, wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic good-bye wave as he slides into his driver seat.  “You can keep your car.  I don’t want or need it.  Good night.” 

You put yourself between the door and car, stopping him from closing it.  He looks at you, eyes narrowed more intensely. 

“Now, now,” he says. 

“I’m a big girl,” you snap.  “I don’t need you protecting my honour.  I wouldn’t offer to let you fuck me if I didn’t mean it.” 

He stares at you, contemplative behind those dark eyes.  He has just returned your vehicle so you have no reason to make another bet, other than to prove the veracity of your previous offer: that you do want to fuck him, even if you don’t want to admit it.

“I told you that you can keep your car,” he says. 

You are amazed smoke is not blowing out of your ears, considering how hot your face feels. 

“I heard you,” you say. 

He gets out of the car slowly, holding your gaze the entire time.  You take a step back. 

Then he walks at you, which forces you to take another backwards step.  Step by step across the tarmac.  The breeze tousles a bit of his hair, but nothing stops his stride and his eyes never leave yours. 

You find it difficult to catch your breath.  Garnering this man’s undivided attention has been your only goal for months, and the reality of it is heady.  He is intoxicating. 

It seems the feeling is reciprocated, given how he looks at you, which just makes you stumble in your backwards trek.  He catches your wrist, tugging you upright, yanking you closer.  You collide with his chest, disoriented from so little. 

“So,” he says.  “If you win, we fuck.  And if I win, we make love.  Is that correct?” 

“Whatever, there’s no difference,” you say.  You are instinctively combative when flustered, redirecting the source of your embarrassment to confrontation. 

It seemingly works.  His attention diverts and he says, “Yes, there is.”

“No, there isn’t.” 

“Yes, there—”  He stops himself from retaliating with the same childish rejoinder.  He props his hands on his hips, shaking his head at himself as he stares up at the stars.   

Eventually he huffs, rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, then looks at you. 

“Fine,” he says.  “We’ll race.” 

Your heart is already revving like an engine.  You take another couple steps back to smirk at him triumphantly.  You walk right into your car, that smug face dropping in surprise.  It gives him the opportunity to crowd you against it, planting his hands on either side of your head.  You hold your breath. 

“You have to pass my test first,” he says. 

“Excuse me!”  Your own incredulity resounds.  You smack his chest but he does not move. 

“It’s just two questions,” he says.  “You’re a smart girl.  You’ll figure it out.” 

He is tormenting you.  You hate him.  You hope he never stops. 

“Fine,” you snap.  His smirk makes your whole belly swoop with anticipation. 

“Good,” he says, then stands back. 

You hold his stare, refusing to show any weakness.  At least you can catch your breath in the space between you. 

Then he says, “Get on your knees.” 

Your legs are already shaky – from nerves, from the dwindling adrenaline of your race.  There are a lot of reasons your knees buckle.  Plenty of explanations for why you do not hesitate, sinking to your knees right there on the road. 

Your gaze drops, flustered by his demand and your response.  You look at his shoes, all black, well-worn, scuffing the tarmac as he steps towards you. 

“Now tell me,” he says, then gathers a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back.  He meets your gaze as he says, “Is this fucking or making love?”

Then his fingers are in your mouth.  You let him in without any hesitation, like your whole body is instinctively attuned to his.  His grip is firm, his fingers relentless, undoubtedly fucking your mouth with the sloppy, mean thrust you would expect from an enemy.  Still, it feels good, unbelievably so, your mouth wet and hot and his fingers sliding over your tongue, the soft suction of your lips making his eyes blaze and his throat bob as he swallows. 

When he slides out, a trail of spit connects his fingers to your lips.  Your lips quiver with a shuddering breath. 

“Well?” he says. 

You swallow, but eventually manage a weak, “Fucking.” 

“Good,” he says, grinning that wicked grin.  “That’s one out of two.  How about this one?” 

He drops to his knees.  You are face-to-face now, kneeling on the road in the dead of night.  There are no witnesses to this scene except maybe the stars, the clear night revealing all your secrets. 

His face is as open, his expression suddenly so devastatingly soft and vulnerable.   Your breath stutters before he even moves.  He cups your cheeks with both hands and draws you to him.

Your eyes close when your lips touch.  He strokes his thumbs across your cheeks and licks into your mouth with decadent slowness, like he wants to savour every second of your taste.  Your mouths move together like they were made for each other, never racing too far ahead. A perfect give-and-take. 

When he stops, you feel dizzy and bereft, but only for a second.   He cups your jaw and tilts your face just so, then his fingers are parting your tender lips and the taste of him is on your tongue once more.  Your eyes close and you moan thoughtlessly, bobbing your head to the gentle rhythm he sets. 

“This,” he says in a feathery-light voice.

You shiver as he slowly withdraws his fingers.  He wipes his thumb across your lips to clean you.  You let him cup your chin and tilt your face, this time so he can look you in the eye. 

“Tell me what we’re doing,” he says.   

The suggestion makes you throb.  You are hot and aching when you admit, “Making love.”

“Good,” he says, then pecks your lips before rolling onto the balls of his feet and shooting upright.  “Now we can race.” 

-

It is a perfect draw. 

You are both distracted.  When you slam on the brakes in the same place at the same moment, it is with a singular purpose in mind. 

Doors slam.  You meet in the space between your vehicles. 

“I won,” you say, just to be argumentative. 

He is shrugging out of his jacket.  It his the ground.  He does not break his stride, already going for his belt.  Your knees nearly buckle again. 

“Fine,” he replies.  “Then get over here.  I’m fucking you on the hood of my car.” 

Fucking you is exactly what he does.  It is not making love.  He strips you methodically, your jacket and shirt and bra.  Your jeans get shoved down past your knees and he bends you over the hood, still warm from the purring engine.  You are hot and frantic, cheek pressed to the hood of your rival’s car while he works you open and shoves himself inside you. 

You make a sharp sound then a low moan, hands plastered to the hot hood.  He fucks you like he races you, without holding anything back because he knows you can take him. 

It feels as primal as a race, the animal instinct that conquers you in a rush of adrenaline.  It is your singular focus, the steady thud of him inside you.  You do not care about appearances, about seeming ridiculous, meeting every thrust and moan with your own.  He sounds good and feels better, your bodies in harmony, chasing each other to the finish line. 

He yanks you up, your back arching as he turns your head for a kiss.  It puts you over, clenching hard around him, setting him off.  He makes a soft sound then groans with pleasure.  He stays there for a minute, both of you breathing hard.

“I want you to keep your car,” he finally speaks, “because I need you to come back tomorrow and race me again.” 

You gasp when his hand moves between your legs, working you up again, slowly but surely.   

“Because next time I’ll win,” he says.  “You sounded so good getting fucked.  I want to see your face when you come on my cock again and again from making love.”

“Won’t happen,” you say, even while your on the cusp of doing just that. 

“Mm,” he says, then laughs that light, evil laugh as you come all over his hand.  He kisses the side of your head and says, “Wanna bet?” 

[itsthestutterforme]

“School Daze” (Husband!Rafe Cameron x black!reader) 1/2

Summary: The school gives your husband, Rafe, a call saying your child has gotten into some trouble.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, sexual themes (oral sex, car sex, riding), Rafe being a sofie

Y/C/N= your child’s name

**

“Y/C/N did what?!” you yelled into your phone, stopping in the middle of the grocery aisle.

“She punched that boy named James in the face.” Rafe explained calmly.

Maybe a little too calmly. Almost as if.. he encouraged this.

“And now she’s suspended?”

“Yep,”

“For a week?”

“Yep,”

“And you’re just okay with that? What if this stays on her permanent record, Rafe?”

“It won’t,” he attempts to reassure.

“You’re insufferable,” you sighed, brushing your curls away from your neck as you regained your composure.

And it was starting to work until you heard man’s voice say, “Really, right in the middle of the aisle, lady?”

Your head spun around so quick, you’re surprised it didn’t snap.

“Oh I’m sorry. Are your legs broken? Go down another aisle. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today.” You snapped.

The man opened his mouth to say something until you narrowed your eyes at him. It was a look you gave Y/C/N often and it worked like a charm every time.

It basically said ‘Try me. I dare you.’ The man quickly closed his mouth and turned down another aisle like you so politely suggested.

“Well that was harsh,” Rafe teases, still over the phone.

The fucker was smiling. You can hear it in his voice.

“No, what’s going to be harsh is the talk I’m goin to have with you when I get home.” you stated, finally walking down the aisle and stood behind the next person in line for self check out.

“Well sorry to burst your bubble sweetheart. But we have a parent conference with the principal at four. The teacher apparently ‘strongly suggested’ to keep Y/C/N in class for the rest of the school day.” He explains.

“And what about James? Is he suspended too?”

“He should be, but no. It’s just Y/C/N getting expelled.”

“I’m not going to let that slide. Y/C/N didn’t hit him just for the fun of it… right?”

“No, that kid has been terrorizing her since the school year started,”

“What?!” You exclaimed, earning starts in your general direction.

“What the hell are you looking at? Mind your business.” You smart, and those heads quickly returned back to looking forward.

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because she didn’t think you would believe her,” Rafe’s words were liked a hot knife in your chest.

You knew he didn’t mean it in a way to hurt you. He was just being honest. That’s one of the things you loved about Rafe. He was going to tell you how it is, whether you’re ready to hear it or not.

You always wondered why Y/C/N was so close to Rafe and not you. Sure, daddy’s little girl was a thing but it didn’t seem right.

You were the strict parent of the pair, so you just thought that she chose to hang out with Rafe more because he was more relaxed than you were.

But learning the truth made your heart hurt. Your daughter didn’t trust that you would believe her.

“Y/N?” Rafe calls over the phone.

“Oh..” you said in defeat.

“The line is moving. I’ll call you when I get to the car.” You added.

“Nah, don’t shut down on me, sweetheart. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to say over the phone. And I’m sure you’re busy so I’ll let you go.”

“I never too busy for you. Never. I’m on my way, just stay there.”

**

Looking out of the window, Rafe occasionally sending you glances as one of his hands rested on the steering wheel while he drove.

“Feeling better now?” He questions and you took a sip of your caramel drizzle latte he bought you.

“Much better, baby. Thank you,”

The truck screeches to a stop at the red light and Rafe took the opportunity to take your chin into his hand, his wedding band shining under the sun light.

“You and Y/C/N are my life, okay? But before her, there was you. And I need to know if you’re okay or not because I can’t do this without you.” He confessed, his steel blue eyes weighing with concern.

“You are an amazing Mom and an even better wife. Don’t you ever doubt that. If you want to have a better relationship with Y/C/N, it won’t take as much time as you think. She’s not scared of you. She’s scared of disappointing you.” He adds and the light turns green, but he steals a kiss before driving down the road to your child’s school.

You looked down at the croissant sandwich and box of donut holes Rafe bought you from your favorite coffee shop piled in your lap along with a Ginvenchy bag.

You married the love of your life. He read you like an open book even when your natural instinct was the shut down and pull away.

You peeked down at your watch before looking at Rafe.

“What?” He questions, raising a brow at you.

“Looks like we have thirty minutes until the meeting.”

An amused smile made its way to his lips.

“Baby number two?” You suggested.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, sweetheart.” He says, making an illegal U-turn to go back home.

“Wait, we might not have time to go home.” You said and Rafe’s eyes darkened. “Our usual spot then?”

“Our usual spot,”

**

“Rafe, please,” you moaned out, attempting to move away from his eager lips on your puffy folds.

Once he parked at the pier, you leaned your seat back until it connected to the back seat. Rafe came around to yourself and pushed you into the backseat.

Soon after he laid down on his stomach and pulled your panties down your legs to eat you out.

He grips your thighs harshly pulled you back down onto his face.

“Come on, sweetheart. Give me another one.” He says, shoving two fingers into your pussy and curling them while he kitten licks your clit.

He pried your legs open by resting his elbows on your inner thighs so you had nowhere to go.

“Rafe! Oh God,” you choke, your body seizes under his persistence licks. He sends one last lingering suck to your clit before taking his fingers out of you.

He laps your juices from your thighs and releases his grip that was keeping your legs open.

You sink into the seat as you caught your breath and Rafe climbs over you, chuckling at your state.

“You sure you’re ready for me?” Pulling him closer to you, you kissed him warmly before telling him, “Lay in the back seat.”

He climbs over you, careful not to accidentally crush you. When you climbed into his lap, your watch face turned on and it read 3:52 p.m.

You had eight minutes to get to the meeting. You had two options: leave now and definitively make it in time or give Rafe the ride of his life and rush to the meeting.

Rafe watches the gears turn in your head as you contemplated.

“We don’t have to do anything right now, sweetheart-“

“You might want to hold onto the arm rest.”

[matchadobo]

KIDD; wedding headcanons

warning/s: partial nsfw but no occurrence of the actual thing, super fluff i died and alived

i'll fix the formatting lateeeerr >:) red ones are individual bullets while white ones are subheadings of the previous red one (hope that makes sense)

* when you bring the question to him he'll be like:

* "me? you wanna marry me?" he'd point to himself.

* "yes, silly! who else?!"

* "i-i mean," he'll instantly become red and start fumbling over his words. "i-i was supposed to pop the damn question out..."

* you best bet it'll be a full blown steampunk wedding! he'd want it to be in the victoria but it's also fine with him if you'd want a beach or garden wedding so long as the theme stays. this i what i think he'll be wearing, the aesthetic of the event, and what your gown'll be.

* during preparations, he'd mostly leave it up to you so long as you follow his color palette: red and blacks. but when it comes to foods, he'd be keen on having an attendance while you taste test and choose out stuff.

his and your fits

* before your wedding day, he'd be soooo anxious. i have this thought that when you two are individually out on your bachelor/ette parties, he'd be calling you by the end of it just cuz he can't sleep.

* "it's pretty late, kidd. did your party just finished?"

* "yeah, every one's knocked out of their damn minds. and apparently, i can't fuckin' sleep."

* "hmm, nervous?"

* "like the fuck i am." he'd try to deny it but eventually give in. "i wanna see you before i sleep."

* "but you know the superstition-"

* "fuck that shi-"

* "no! i don't want any bad luck!"

* "luck? baby, we defy all odds, don't we?"

* he'd insist but you'll also insist. so he just settled on an overnight call where you two slept in.

* during the wedding day, you two'll be tired as fuck because the only sleep you guys got was 2-3 hours because of talking and comforting each other until 5 😭. while getting ready, kidd will be more impatient and irritated than usual. but it's just due to the combination of weariness and anxiety. mostly anxiety. he never felt this anxious when it comes to you, he'd always be confident about how you two felt about each other. but right now, all he thinks if he's sure or not. if you're sure with him. eustass kidd never doubts, but he feels so deeply for you he'd never want to hurt you and that brings him to a wall. the people involve with him that day had a hard time working with him because his attitude is extraaa mean 😔

* but when he sees you at the end of the aisle as you donned a dress that looked way too good on you it was insane to him, all his worries left his body through a tear that cascaded down his eye.

* "you crying?" killer nudged kidd, noticing the taller to reach over his breast pocket to fish out the hanky.

* "shut up, you ain't the one doing the marryin'."

* i imagine his vows to reflect the kind of person he is, passionate and brute about it. he'll be soooo poetic it'd surprise you.

* "where do i even start fuck-" you'd giggle along with the audience. "i do lotsa damn declarations but this is makin' me shy, jeez."

* "name," he'd sheepishly look at you. "you are my dream and i honestly curse the seas that i'd only found you nos and not at the time i needed you the most. and now i, for the life of me, can't imagine how i'd live without you."

* "i, eustass kid, will put hands on anyone who mess with my wife, if those fuckers think they're so big, well so am i, aye?! if she cries i'll cry with her, and trust me when i say i will kill any bastard who dares do her wrong, because that's my wife, they better not look at her cuz she's taken, she's mine. got it?"

* "you've learned to love me, an insufferable asshole, in ways i never thought possible. you've seen the worst and the best, the weak and the strong, the ugly and somehow the pretty in me. you make me a better man."

* "you conquered all my fears, seized my pride, and built my strength. you are the reason i became the way i am today. you crawled your way in 'ere and took control over my heart, you little monster."

* "from the start, i haven't exactly been kind to you. i mean, i've been rude, and disrespectful; but you grew on me, you were patient and measured up to my irritated ass... so much that I don't know what happened, you really snuck up on me... so may you forgive me my past dumb mistakes. because even if I am stupid and mean, and I may not show my love properly, I love you and will do anything to give you what you fuckin' deserve. you know that."

* "name is a great woman, one who stands and always fights for what she wants, and I want the honor of being your husband. we'll conquer anything, yeah?"

* "okay i'm very fucking embrassed now so i'll just come out and say it... I need to marry you, not because I love you, not because I like you, but because I have to to... yeah, I said it, I don't like you or love you, i need you in my fucking life."

* man he'd end up crying while saying them. but his voice wouldn't waver, it's eustass kidd come ooooon

* he'd be dramatic and give you the bridal kiss where you kind of hang mid air and he supports your back.

* reception would be firrrreee it'd be an absolute rave! you'd have your wedding dress be modified where you can discard the tulle or some shit to make the dress shorter.

* your guests and dearest friends each made a speech about your craziness with each other

* "kidd was so damn insane for this girl. one time, he asked me if he should get her an otter or dung beetle as a christmas present. bro doesn't even celebrate christmas until she came along!"

* "kidd stood out as one of name's partners, he was the first jackass she fell for that was actually a keeper."

* "i'm telling you, kidd became so self-conscious when he met name! he started worrying if his lipstick was the right shade or if his eyeliner looked neat!"

* "what confuses me was whenever they talked to me about each other, the word 'i hate' always comes first and them being whipped follows after. it was annoying."

* drinking games come after, trivias about the couple and between you two after. and as expected, it was competitive because neither of you wanted to lose and give way 🤣. kidd as a man, will never go easy and let you win tho. he respects you like that.

* but what prompted me to make this hc is the wedding garter tradition 🫦. this will be his favorite part. he'd be very extra tho,

* he'll take off his suit jacket and roll up his sleeves when you two are in front for the act.

* he'd maintain reaaaally strong eye contact and will be feeling himself while you burn red and start fanning yourself from laughing or actually feeling flustered under his gaze.

* he'd get under your dress, have a long whiff of that 🐱 and his breath'll tickle you bc he nasty like that, lick your thigh a little, give the flesh on your hips a squeeze, and drag the garter off with his teeth very very languidly

* he'll be very pouty when it's time to give it to the bestman tho

* then the actual rave comesss! blasting music and lights at the victoria, it didn't seem like a wedding reception. but you and kidd were in the center of it all, dancing with each other the same way you two met in a bar.

* "wanna get out of here?" he whispered with his hands on your hips, bending down to your ear due to the deafening beats.

* "hmm, ain't this familiar?" you giggled.

* "aye. this is the part where you come with me and we kiss at the back."

* "eh? that's different from what i remember. your mean ass was angry at me for stepping on your shoe." you poked at his nose while he laughed subtly.

* "shh shh, we both know how bad that ended. bar got fucked up real good." you two broke out in laughter, reminiscing at old times.

* kidd would inevitably drag you to his quarters, man's hungrryyyyy

* he'd be so desperate to take off your clothes, with how beautiful you look today and how he was deprived of you for a couple of nights

* you'd leave the deck making out, walkign sideways, backwards, u name it

* "it'd be pretty weird if the bride and groom's gone on their reception, right?" you broke out of the kiss.

* "and we don't give a shit about it, don't we?" he'd grin, tugging at your lips

* aaaand stuff thst happens in the honeymoon happened 😏

been in the works foR WAY TOO LONG

[happy74827]

Just Words

[Siobhan Roy x GN!Reader]

Synopsis: Words can be hurtful (especially to most) but with Siobhan’s “5-star” personality and ability to not care about anything other than herself, you can’t help BUT spill some words. {GIF Creds: @olliviacooke// I took this off of google (fair warning) so I had to dig deep to find the OP}

WC: 2274

Category: Slight Fluff (?), Enemies to… trope {Trigger Warning: Foul Language (I really channeled the Roy family here), Logan}

I did not expect my first succession fic to be Siobhan… but honestly, I’m not complaining 👀 (fyi: this was a request and I stupidly forgot to “answer” so hopefully the anon who requested lovely Shiv finds this 💀)

『••✎••』

Siobhan Roy… mega bitch. You hated her. Well, that might be an understatement; you despised her. From the moment you met her, she was just a total and complete pain in your ass. Not to mention completely and utterly self-absorbed. She had the attitude and ego of a child.

So when you were made to work with her, you were less than pleased. Logan Roy, the only man who could top Siobhan in terms of being an insufferable asshole, had made you a deal. If you and Siobhan worked together to find a solution to the media shitstorm he was currently experiencing, he would put you on the team that handled the IPO of Waystar. It was the opportunity you had been waiting for, so you sucked it up and agreed.

You and Siobhan sat in the meeting, both of you looking like a pair of miserable children. It made Roman look like a ray of sunshine, and that was really saying something.

Logan slammed the door, causing you to flinch.

"Fuck," he said, taking his seat.

"What?" asked Siobhan, a tinge of irritation in her voice. It’s amazing how her mood could shift on a dime.

"Nothing. I'm just a bit tired of this fucking circus."

"Well, what the fuck do you expect? You made a public promise. If you can't make good on it, why not just say so? Why continue this fucking farce?"

Logan narrowed his eyes at her.

"If I wanted to hear that, Siobhan, I would have gone to my wife's bed. I don't need a cunt in my ear right now."

Siobhan rolled her eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ. I'm a realist. You're the one who wants to live in your fantasy world. Just fucking drop the bomb, tell the truth, and let's move on."

"The truth? And what is the truth? That my son’s a psychotic, drug-addled mess? That Kendall is a sniveling, entitled little fuck? A pathetic, whiny, little shit stain who can't do his job because he's too busy jerking himself off to his own sob story? Is that the truth you want to set free?"

Siobhan stared him down, and once again, you were surprised. You had thought the woman was completely brazen, but there were still limits.

"I'm not your therapist," she said.

"No. You're not. And I'm not going to sit here and listen to a woman with the emotional range of a fucking teaspoon telling me how to handle this situation. Now, I need to get on the phone with my PR team. Fuck off, all of you. Get back to work."

You and Roman both jumped up, quickly leaving the room. Once you were safely away from Logan, you took a deep breath and relaxed a bit.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you muttered, "I don't know how she does it."

Roman smirked, "Oh, she's a special snowflake—a real ball buster. You should see her with Tom. It's a fucking bloodbath."

“Tell me about it. It’s a raging dumpster fire, even saying more than two words to her. I feel like she's going to snap my head off any minute. I’m so tired of her bullshit, and she's the least of my worries. The whole family is a fucking disaster. And I don't have time for any of it…. No offense.”

Roman gave you a half smile. "None taken. You're right; I'm the best of a very bad lot."

"Well, at least you're self-aware."

“You fuckers talking shit about me behind my back?"

You turned and saw Shiv leaning against the wall.

"Always," replied Roman. "And it's fucking hilarious."

"Well, don't let me stop you," she said, rolling her eyes. Her eyes then shifted to you.

"I didn't realize we were having a fucking slumber party."

"Just having a bit of a break," you said.

"Oh, well, that's very fucking nice. I'm glad everyone is taking a fucking break because I've been dealing with our father, who is a raging psycho at the moment. You know, while the rest of you are fucking around, the company is dying. It's falling apart, and everyone is too fucking busy to give a shit."

"Come on, Shivvy. Take a breather. You’re starting to act like Kendall… and that's never a good look," said Roman.

"Fuck off, Ro.”

Shiv glared at him, then glanced back at you. The glare made you want to hide, but you refused to show fear in front of her. You had done it in the past, and it only fed her.

"Well," she said, "aren't you going to say anything? Or are you just going to stand there with your mouth open like an idiot?"

"I think I'll take option B. I'd like to live through this," you replied.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I think it's pretty clear."

"Yeah, I suppose it is. I guess I shouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

"Someone like me?"

“Shiv,” warned Roman, trying to interject. Personally, despite his whacked-out sense of humor, you actually enjoyed his company. He was definitely the least obnoxious of the Roy siblings. “Let’s not get into this now, okay? Just drop it."

"No. No, go ahead, Shiv. Let's have it out. Right here, right now. Let's see if you can handle it."

Shiv stared at you for a few moments, then she smiled. It wasn’t her usual smug, condescending grin. It was different, almost sincere.

"You think you're tough?" she asked.

"No. I know I am. It's a little different, don't you think?"

"Okay," she replied, her eyes darkening. She leaned forward, her face just inches from yours. Roman just looked at the two of you as if watching a tennis match. "You're so sure you can handle me. So why don't you prove it?"

"Prove it? Like, what, punch you in the face? Is that what you want?"

"Although, as satisfying as that sounds, I was thinking we all should just move on… maybe have a drink, talk it over? Yeah? No?”

Shiv just looked at you. "Yeah, I'll pass. I'm not here to make friends, and I'm certainly not here to kiss your ass."

"That's good. Because, honestly, I don't see you as the ass-kissing type. Tom, yes. You? Not a chance. You're the type who wants everything to be handed to you on a silver platter. I'm sorry, but I'm not the maid. I'm not going to serve you or kiss your ass. I'm here because I have a job to do, and I intend to do it. That's it.”

"Oh, right. I see. Well, then, why don't we cut the bullshit and just get right to it. How about you go back to whatever shithole you crawled out of and let the real people get on with things."

“Guys-” Roman started.

"Real people? Real people? You think you're real? You think this is real? I hate to break it to you, Siobhan, but you're not a princess, and this isn't a fairy tale. You're not the queen. Your father isn't the king. You're a spoiled brat, and he's… well, he’s Logan. He's not even a king. He's just a bully."

"Is that supposed to hurt me? To insult me?"

"No, but you seem like the kind of person who doesn't take criticism well. You’re doing a terrible job.”

Shiv stared at you, her lip curled up in disgust. She looked as if she were about to hit you, but the rage was just a facade.

"Well," she finally said, "It's a good thing we're not here to play fucking games, then. So why don't you shut the fuck up and get back to work? Unless, of course, you don't think you can handle it. Maybe you should just go back to where you came from, and let the real people get on with things."

Your nostrils flared. It took every ounce of strength in you not to smack the look off her face. But you knew better. If you started a fight, Logan would take your head off, and that was a fight you couldn't win. So, instead, you smiled.

"Fine," you said. "If that's what you want. I'll do my job, and you do yours. But, just remember, the day is coming when this little charade is going to come to an end, and when it does, it's going to be a lot worse than it is right now."

You didn't wait for her reply. Instead, you turned and walked away, leaving the two of them standing in the hallway.

Once you were back in the safety of your office, you collapsed into your chair and let out a sigh. You had just gotten your first taste of a Roy fight, and it was worse than you had anticipated. The worst part was Siobhan had gotten the last word. It didn't matter that you might’ve won. She had gotten the last good word, and you hated her for it.

As the hours ticked by, you became more and more frustrated. You were angry and bitter. You were pissed at yourself for letting Shiv get under your skin, and you were angry at her for getting to you.

So, when your phone rang and you saw her name, you were tempted to ignore it. You let it ring for a few seconds, then decided to answer.

"Yes?” Your attitude was short.

"Get your shit together," she snapped. “We have a meeting in five minutes. We have a lot of ground to cover."

That was, in fact, false. By the time you arrived, the conference room was deserted, and only Shiv remained. She was sitting at the table, her laptop open in front of her.

"What the hell?" you demanded.

"I'm sorry. Did you want a fucking audience? Because that can be arranged. But, if you don't mind, I would prefer not to have any interruptions."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that we are both here, and we have a job to do. Now, either sit down and help me, or fuck off. I really don't give a shit."

You stared at her, and she looked up from her laptop, raising an eyebrow. There was no audience, and there wasn’t going to be one. So, you had two options. Either walk away and look like an idiot, or stay and possibly get chewed out again. You took a deep breath and sat down.

Shiv just hummed in response, then looked back at her screen. "Good choice."

For the next couple of hours, the two of you worked together, trying to figure out a way to turn the situation around. Arguments arose, shots were fired, and at one point, Shiv threatened to kick you out, but overall, it was a productive session. Logan wouldn’t be pissed, so that was a win.

"So," Shiv said as the two of you left the building, "Did you cool down?"

"What?"

"I'm asking if you cooled down. Do you feel better now?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I? You know, besides the fact that we were at each other's throats for hours and the fact that we both wanted to kill each other. I'm peachy."

"Mm, peachy." She said the word like it was an insult. "That's a strange choice of words, don't you think?”

“What? The real people don’t use the word peachy, huh? Is it beneath you, Shiv? Do you only use fancy words and proper grammar?"

"Oh, I can be a real commoner when the situation calls for it. It's all about knowing your audience."

"Really? So, is this the commoner Shiv? Should I expect a new side of you?"

"Maybe.” She smiled oddly again. The one that made you nervous. "Maybe not. That depends on you. Do you want to know the real me?"

"No, not particularly."

"Good. Because I'm not interested in showing you. I’m just curious if you have what it takes."

"To what, put up with your bullshit? To put up with a spoiled brat who thinks the world is hers for the taking? Mmm, yeah, I think I've got what it takes."

"Okay, first off, fuck you. Second, you're a piece of shit. Third, I have something to tell you. So, listen up. This is important. Okay, ready?"

You were about to say something, but her expression stopped you. Her voice was low, her tone serious. You nodded.

"I'm a bitch. And, yeah, I have a temper, and I'm not a warm and fuzzy kind of girl. But, that's the thing, I don't need to be. I don't need to pretend that I'm anything other than who I am. I don't have to fake it because I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to go after it. That’s what you need to understand. It's not about what you think you need. It's about what you want and what you're willing to do to get it."

You just stared at her, unsure of what to say.

"So, let me ask you, what do you want? And are you willing to do what it takes to get it?"

You thought about it for a second. "I want a drink. A strong one."

A little comedy never hurt anyone. And judging by her expression, you could tell you had made her smile.

"Well, that's a start." Siobhan had a smirk on her face. "Alright, fine. Let's get that drink. Then we'll see how far that gets you."

"Yeah," you muttered, "I'm sure."

But, as you walked down the street, you couldn't help but think about the question. What did you want?

And what was Siobhan offering?

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Survivors

theo raeken x reader

summary: people are being kidnapped and tested, and one day, you wake up with the startling realization that you're next. luckily, your captor releases you after something about you reminds him a little too much of himself.

tags: kidnapping, implied s3lf h4rm, implied child abuse, non-graphic

word count: 1.1k

a/n: i apologize in advance

also, i wrote this a month ago and haven't been able to title it! i've also had to rewatch parts of s5 bc i was so confused the first time around. this takes place before the chimeras start dying / when they're still being tested on and all that.

A dark cloth is pulled tightly around your head, and your hands are bound in rope. A metal pole supports your back, though it is uncomfortable between your shoulder blades. Two of your senses are rendered useless, forcing you to rely on the other three for support. Unfortunately, they aren't much help in a situation like this.

You sigh. There's no telling how long you've been here. You know you've faded in and out of consciousness three times now. This is the first time you've fully woken up and realized how endangered you actually are.

Even with the blindfold, you know you're in the dark. The hard and cold ground suggests a garage, storage building, or maybe even down in the tunnels, is where you're being kept. Who knows? A pill was forced down your throat the minute you were grabbed, your kidnapper rendering you completely unable to fight.

Speaking of which... Your kidnapper...

You wonder who they are. It's probably the doctors; they've been damning people for weeks now. Turning humans into creatures and throwing them back out into the world. Killing them if they're failures, but doing more tests if they seem to succeed.

Fear shoots down your spine as you realize you're next. You're captured, you must be their next test. You struggle against the ropes, but there's no give.

A heavy door is pushed to the side, and footsteps make their way towards you. You stop fighting immediately and prepare for the worst.

Someone crouches in front of you close enough that you can hear their breathing. They're calm in a way that horrifies you. They're not here to save you. No, no one knows you're here. No one is coming to save you.

You're startled by a gentle touch as two hands meet the sides of your head. Your blindfold is pulled down slowly, finally revealing the person on the other side. Their identity shocks you; a chill ices your body.

"You."

He sighs, glancing at the floor. "Sorry about this, Y/N. You're the one they wanted most."

"Really? And when'd you become their little errand boy, Theo? I thought you wanted Scott to trust you. Thought you wanted to be a part of his pack."

"it's all about survival, Y/N. There is a war, and I am loyal to whom I think will come out on top."

"You're wrong. The bad guys always lose, even if not in ways you'd expect. You will lose."

"Have that much faith in Scott, now do you? I don't see him coming to save you. You're all alone here. There's no getting out." You gulp visibly before you can stop yourself. "How's that for being the loser?"

"You're sick."

"Maybe. But at least I'm a realist."

You roll your eyes, looking away from him. Right now, his face is pissing you off just to see it. Two days ago, you'd admit you thought the little fucker was hot, but now, he's just a pain in your ass.

"Whatever," you snap, "have it your way. Just make it fast if you're going to kill me."

"Baby, if you've been following along, I'm not killing anyone. And the doctors aren't yet either. They're testing you all."

"For what? And don't 'baby' me."

He smiles. "To make the perfect monster. The best one for the cause."

"Which is?"

"Can't say."

"You're insufferable."

"And you're adorable when you're mad."

"Ugh!"

Theo takes a deep breath, then unties the cloth that was once around your eyes. He reaches around the side to undo the ropes, working at them for a good thirty seconds before unraveling the strongly-made knot.

"I do mean it when I say I'm sorry. Wish they picked anyone else, but they said you were special."

"I don't care, Theo. I already know this is the end for me. You're just drawing it out."

He slouches his shoulders before taking your wrists in his hands. He sits up on his knees, prepared to pull you up with him, but stops suddenly. Even in the darkness, the chimera can see the scars. Thin, white lines decorating the skin on your wrists. Some are more faded than others, but others look more recent. He stares at them for a moment, while you remain none the wiser, avoiding his gaze.

For a second, he's transported back to his childhood - kidnapped by the doctors at an early age, forced to undergo tests and experiments, and to live under their care. Forgotten by his family and haunted by his sister. The doctors didn't know how to raise a child, but they clearly didn't care. The torment he suffered still hurts every passing day, and even now, in Beacon Hills again, the pain hasn't ceased.

Theo bears plenty of scars of his own. Some are made by the doctors, some he brought on himself. It took him years to learn to not hate his body, to see the scars as a reminder that he's a survivor, not a failure.

His are littered around his body in places not well seen. The first time one of the doctors discovered them, he was punished accordingly. It's as if they're the only ones allowed to abuse him; how dare he bring it upon himself.

Theo looks at your scars and wonders what trauma is buried beneath them. What are you hiding? What emotional pain lies under the physical? Who knows your secrets, if anyone? It's none of his business, so he doesn't ask, but he closes his hands over your wrists and gulps.

"Run."

You look back at him, then at your clasped hands. "What?"

"Run. Run far from here and don't look back. Follow the pipes on the left side of the wall, and let them take you back above ground. Don't tell Scott anything I told you, it will only get you hurt. Just run, and don't let the doctors find you."

"Wait, why? I don't understand."

Theo pushes your hands into your chest and finally releases them. Fear floods through you as realization hits. He's seen you, seen your wrists, and your scars, and he's taking pity on you. But... he's letting you go.

"Just go, Y/N!" He yells in a whisper. "Go, before they come back. Any minute now, they're expecting you."

You scramble to your feet and look towards the pipes. The pipes on the left lead out, he said.

"But what about you?" You don't know why you ask. You don't know why you care. But, something deep inside you does.

"I'll be fine, I'll make up a lie. Just go!"

And so finally, you take off in the direction he points, still a little confused, but incredibly grateful.

Maybe there is some good in him. Maybe he's just as manipulated by the doctors as the rest of the chimeras. Maybe there's hope for him after all.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Danganronpa 3: Future arc episode 4

Thonks.

After Munakata gave an admittedly cool line...we get a recap from Monokuma who calls him a badass.

I'm sorry but if Monokuma thinks highly of you... You know you're the bad guy.

"Please note: Hagakure's stuck outside because nobody likes him."

👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼.

I mean I'd rather have him than Juzo.

"Quit acting like your title means a damn thing."

Bold words for a guy who once beat a student because he was "inferior" for not having a talent.

Someone needs to stop giving this guy chairs.

Seiko's still... That and running after Ruruka and Izayoi.

The director being kind of a badass makes sense.

Wouldn't have survived this long if he wasn't.

And he's beating Juzo sips tea maybe we can trust him.

Kyoko's stunned reaction like you gotta be good to fool the detective.

Awh Asahina and Kyoko hugging.

"Why bother being like him, he's him and you're you." Look at you Kyoko giving encouragement.

I'm proud of her.

And Asahina chiming in that yeah you're great on you own. You don't need to be like Makoto.

Trust me, as much as we love Makoto one is enough.

Ahh fuck Munakata's got Makoto.

I knew he didn't kill him already, but to use him for ransom?

... Nope he's gonna kill him...

I love how everyone's freaking out and Kyoko's just annoyed.

Explaining it's a trap, to draw them all in.

If Munakata was gonna kill him he would've done so already, so they have time to negotiate.

So I was right, he is ransom.

Although I disagree on the he would've done so already.

Munakata seems like the type to play with his food, so to speak.

He's not gonna kill Makoto, not yet.

He's gonna make him suffer first.

Like Sato said, I wanted to see the light leave her eyes. That's what Munakata wants from Makoto.

To drag him into the depths and experience true despair.

Not realising Makoto has, several times.

Makoto just having no energy while Munakata is still on his dramatics.

Mood.

Also man needs to pick his side because I'm confused.

First it's, you have to die because you're that strong and gave so much influence.

And now it's you're nothing, you're not a threat of you live or die.

Is it because he's tied up?

That doesn't mean he couldn't go free, and thus be a threat?

Pick a story my dude and stick to it.

Makoto: The worst case scenario is we all die.

Munakata: Nope.

In a way I get where he's coming from in his hypotheticals.

If the killing stops after a person is killed that doesn't mean they're the killer. They could stop whenever they want.

And that person could survive and than go on to influence the rest of the foundation.

But it doesn't justify mass murder nor whatever the hell he's doing.

Also his insistence on calling it a game...doesn't sit right with me.

Man if I ever complained about Byakuya I want to apologise.

You are nowhere near as insufferable nor egotistical as this fucker.

Idk how you managed to make game 1 Byakuya "I moved the dead body to make the killing game more interesting" Togami look like an functional human being.

But here we are.

"Despair would march on with a flag of hope. That would be the worst outcome."

... Who's gonna tell him that's exactly what he's doing...

He's on a power trip and decided him and only him gets to decide who lives and who dies.

Again, stop trying to justify mass murder.

The director is here and shattered his sword. That's how you make an entrance.

Finally Kyoko gets to do her thing and investigate.

Asahina getting Makoto to safety, whoop.

Director stepping up to fill Gozo's shoes as resident badass on Makoto's side.

Rest in peace Great Gozu.

"For what it's worth, there's no doubt in my mind that you are the Super High School Level Hope."

There it is from the former headmaster himself.

I think Ryota's the traitor but I don't really have any evidence.

Just a vibe.

I hope its not though I'm not sure who it could it be.

"We used to be besties."

"Oh don't even play that card. Last I checked, besties don't get besties expelled from Hope's Peak high school."

... Yeah Ruruka and Seiko definitely have history.

Reminds me of Natsumi and Sato.

Oh so Izayoi and Ruruka also got expelled.

Interesting.

Ya'll are kinda in your own show at this point.

Oh hell yeah the Director just through Munakata on the ground.

I get he has a name but I'm just gonna call him Director.

Also him calling Munakata cynical and naive when all Munakata has done has berate Makoto for being naive.

Hell yeah.

"Despair can only be eliminated by those prepared to make the necessary sacrifices."

"Oh than I suppose Yukizome was one of those sacrifices."

OHHHHHHHHH!!!

He got you there.

Gonna need some ice for that, the old man is not playing around.

... And getting stabbed through the hand and keeps going.

Fucking hell.

And they fell through a glass balcony.

Man I don't want Miaya to die... But they're going off alone and said I'll be back...

"When we get out of here, we're gonna eat so much donuts."

Heh, yeah you guys should.

Annnd Miaya has rocket missles in her wheelchair.

Oh... Yeah the Director has been stabbed through with shrapnel.

Munakata having the audacity to say he thought the director had "lost his fangs and was just hiding behind a cheap code of ethics."

And he'd wanted to kill him for ages.

Werido.

Juzo you just committed the cardinal sin of kicking someone's ass while they're powering up.

Dude doesn't know fighting etiquette either.

... And Miaya's a robot.

No wait there's someone controlling her.

WAIT

Miaya is Monaca?!

Didn't see that coming holyshit.

... So she's the traitor?

Because I don't think she's the mastermind.

Either way... Monaca Towa is back.

Fuck.

[harmonyckrs]

Act 1, Scene 2 of Twisted Veronaville: The Homosexual Supporting Cast

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Every four years, the Summerdreams host a party and invite both the Capps and the Montys, in hopes of establishing peace. This used to be once per year, but got moved to four years after Mercutio ended up in the hospital from an especially bad fight with Tybalt.

The most recent party was a special one: Oberon and Titania have once again sworn their loyalty to each other, and Puck had his first kiss with Hermia.

Puck: Congrats on getting married again, Mom!

Titania: Thanks, dear. This party was a success, wasn't it?

Puck: Seems so! But Mercutio saw me kissing Hermia, and I think he's upset.

Oberon: You can talk to him about it, can you? Just host another party...we'll make it a boys only party, just so it won't be repetitive! How about that?

Puck: (I'm not sure if I'm a boy, though)...Sure?

And so he did. A whole new party, just to apologize to one guy.

Puck: ...And I'm really sorry if I hurt your feelings.

Mercutio: You hosted another party just for this? It's not that big of a deal, Puck. I'm honestly more upset that you invited Tybalt to this than I am about the kiss.

Tybalt: I'M THREE FEET AWAY FROM YOU, DUMBASS! I CAN HEAR YOU!

Puck: It's a formality. We invite at least one member from both families so none of you think we're taking sides. I've seen what Tybalt has done to the people who only align themselves with your family.

Tybalt: I CAN STILL HEAR YOU!

Mercutio: Yeah, that's fair. But in all seriousness, I'm not mad about the kiss. Sure it sucks that she didn't like me, but she chose you. I'm not going to break up our friendship over a Capp, even if it's someone cool like Hermia.

Puck: Thanks, Mercutio.

Romeo: ...Puck, I think you should've just invited Hermia and Mercutio instead of having an "all-boys party" just to have this conversation.

Tybalt: For once, I actually agree with Romeo.

Romeo: Nobody asked!

Tybalt: I'M LITERALLY ON YOUR SIDE YOU PIECE OF-

The party was a success...for Puck. As for Tybalt, he was just angry. Angrier than usual, and he needed some way to release it. But Juliette wouldn't listen to him and Consort was at work, so that left only one person.

Tybalt: And then that fucker had the audacity to talk shit about me the entire time!

Hermia: (Where the hell is Grandpa when you need him?) Okay? Why do you care so much about what Mercutio thinks of you?

Tybalt: Stop making this weird!

Hermia: I mean, you bring him up every time we talk. It feels like you constantly think about him.

Tybalt: I do!

Hermia: ...

Tybalt: ...I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!

Hermia: Sure...whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy.

And here lies the surviving sisters of the Capp family, one with many children and the other with none. But the two have something in common...

Goneril: I can't stop thinking about Bianca...

Regan: I hate her stupid glasses and her pretty face...

Goneril: I hate her stupid soft hair and lips...GAH! Why do I keep thinking about her?

Regan: She's a Monty! I can't be thinking about a Monty this way!

Goneril: I need to focus on my family!

Regan: And my job!

Goneril/Regan: And also, I'm married!

Kent: Regan, are you okay?

Regan: Kent, not right now. I'm having a crisis.

Kent: Okay, geez...

Kent: So yeah, Cornwall is insufferable. I'm thinking of moving out soon, but I don't know if I have enough money to live on my own.

Bianca: Do you want to be roommates?

Kent: Would that be weird? I'm a Capp and you're a Monty.

Bianca: Oh, I'm not worried about that! I've stopped caring about my family thinks a long time ago. And you should, too.

Kent: Well, alright! I'll see you soon.

*beep*

Antonio: Bianca, who were you talking to?

Bianca: Kent.

Antonio: That Capp guy? I told you to drop him a long time ago.

Bianca: You still care about the feud?

Antonio: Of course I did! They murdered my wife!

Bianca: And you're sure it's them, and not someone else?

Antonio: Who else would've done it?

And lying near the river that separates the Capps and Montys, lies two peculiar forces...

???: Have you found anyone worthy from the other towns?

???: There's one person. His name is Tank Grunt, from Strangetown. He's physically strong and appears noble.

???: I see. He should have no problem handling the fights in Veronaville. Will he cooperate, though?

???: I believe so. Who wouldn't want the chance to be a hero? The one who defies the fates set up by the Watcher and forges their own path?

???: I suppose you're right. Let's bring him here tomorrow...

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[mdhwrites]

I Am Getting Tired Talking About the Designs

It is the main thing outside of Clois that I see talked about with My Adventures With Superman. I’ve even seen someone call the show’s style so far as ‘hyper realism’ because of how they’re doing the villain designs which... *stares at the person until holes bore into their skull* And here’s the thing: I don’t mind people complaining about the villains technically. The fact that both Livewire and Slade feel kind of samey next to each other doesn’t help the fact that the show is struggling to give its villains time to shine. They risk slipping into a territory where they feel there as a part of the mandate of this being a superhero show rather than interesting entities unto themselves and I’d be okay with people talking about that.

Or how about the fact that so far none have had a REALLY good or interesting fight with Superman so far? Ivo is the best on both fronts so far but otherwise we’ve see Clark grab someone’s fist before responding with an attack three times now and one of those was against a robot. The only one he hasn’t done it to is Livewire and she doesn’t exactly punch, does she?

I had my brother bitch at me yesterday, if you don’t want to talk about the villains, about Jimmy’s stuff needing a little more fleshing out if he’s suddenly going to be mopey about the two getting together, especially after pushing Clark and Lois towards each other at first. That isn’t an unfair complaint and even in my last review, for as much as I liked the episode, I still admitted there were issues and lacking payoffs, especially with Jimmy. There are issues. This isn’t a perfect show, though nothing should be perfect because perfect is boring. It probably does need to take a breath though because while it is shockingly well paced, it is juggling a lot at once and it is concerning for when one of the balls may drop.

But like... Unless they’re just fundamentally getting the character wrong with no chance for growing into their design, can we just stop bitching about them? Parasite from my knowledge was originally a dude who was fucked up by an experiment and went “Well, they can’t cure me so I guess I’m evil” which is way less interesting than actually having his personality and his personal goals be parasitic to some extent so that they match his powers thematically. I’ve heard Livewire is a cocky, annoying bitch. We all remember the “Smartest person here” banter, right? That bitch with real powers, and irreversible powers as was foreshadowed by her veins, is going to be INSUFFERABLE. And Slade? The fucker is twenty years younger, minimum, than his comic counterpart and has both eyes and his battle suit in the title sequence fits his aesthetics so maybe cut him some slack because his cocky attitude now is clearly setting up for a GLORIOUS fall.

Of course, this is all assuming the show does well by these characters but at least right now they definitely have potential to become like their comic counterparts, especially with the question of how Silver Banshee is getting her screams back after Clark broke her mask.

So unless you complaint is more than “I want them to look exactly like my comic books!” maybe let an adaptation be, you know, an adaptation. I mean, so far the show fits exactly how DC has marketed itself since... I dunno, from what I hear the New 52? Especially in television because *gestures at all the DC movies* so I might not be a comics guy but I absolutely see why DC was okay with this as the rights holder because this is EASILY the most interested I’ve been in literally ANY of Superman’s rogue’s gallery. And no, I’m not a comic book guy but I see people comparing the two and you know my response when people bring up the differences in design? Most of the time I’m curious. Like what is Siobhan like when she looks like some genetically altered mutant or just a straight up alien of some sort? What’s the backstory there? But I also enjoy the cocky, wanna be supervillain of Siobhan in the show with her glam rock hair and raspy voice.

But I will admit that I don’t know the pain of adaptation too well. The closest I’ve come is stuff like Guardians of Ga’Hoole (which frankly is a shockingly good movie for how much of a mess adapting that series to anything would be) and Percy Jackson, where I only bitched about Clarisse because making Annabethe Clarisse was both more boring and narratively pointless because Clarisse is KIND OF IMPORTANT to the second book of that series, bare minimum.

Nothing here strikes me like that and if you disagree... Let me know. I see adaptations like this as a chance to both enjoy something and learn but frankly, EVERYONE bitching about the designs and nothing else is just making me tired and that’s making me not want to learn which means afterwards, I won’t dig deeper which isn’t that what you want as a fellow fan of the character?

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead, If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

[zarahjoyce]

So since I wanted a jealousoverKaguragi!Yanma, I know I had to write the damn thing myself T.T

Very slight spoilers for ep 8!

-

"Kaguragi?" Yanma's tone was rife with disbelief. "You're trusting your plan to work with that fucker?"

"Don't--" Himeno starts saying before cutting herself off intentionally; by now she should have known that he was going to keep swearing in her presence anyway, so what was the point of asking him to stop doing it?

Instead she replies, "I told you, didn't I? I needed someone who has easy access to Racules without getting him or his people suspicious. Someone who can sway his actions toward what I want him to do."

"And what?" Yanma asks, and from her screen Himeno can see the annoyance on his face. "You really needed him to go to Ishabana personally to meet with you?"

She stops Sebas from refilling her tea with a motion of her hand before turning to her screen again. "A pity he was so easy to summon," Himeno says with some regret. "I would have been amenable to going to Toufu myself to discuss business with him, if that would mean he'll be serving me his most delicious--"

"You still owe me for stealing all the meat back then, by the way," he cuts in, almost smugly. 

"I do not!" she replies with a frown. "You've been an absolute boar with how much you've eaten, as I recall. I was just getting my fair share of meat from the pot."

"Through your servant, you mean."

"Well, how else was I to get my food? Take it myself?" Himeno scoffs. The very idea!

Yanma scoffs right back at her, "You have two hands, don't you?"

"And I also had Sebas with me," she shoots back. "What's your point?"

"What's yours?" 

"You," Himeno says, "are the most impossible man to talk to. Remind me why you called, again?"

"Oh," Yanma sneers, "just to let Her Majesty know that trusting Kaguragi's going to be the weakest point of her stupid plan?"

"Well, I don't see you providing any type of helpful input anyway," she replies, crossing her arms. "Unless you can think of a person I can convince to actually approach Racules and--"

"What," Yanma says, his face getting bigger on her screen. "You didn't think I can do it?"

And Himeno just laughs at him.

"With how actively you've been opposing the man? I'm surprised he hasn't thrown you to prison the moment you step foot in Shuggodam, King of N'Kosopa or not," she tells him. "Unless you can somehow win Racules' affections in, oh, 6 days? I'll just have to trust Kaguragi for my plan to work."

She can see Yanma scratching his head rather vigorously; she's about to ask him if he's in need of some medication for lice when he blurts out, "Well what am I supposed to do then? Just watch the two of you do your shitty plan?"

"My plan is not--"

"Shitty," Yanma supplies with a grin. "Just say the word, Himeno. I dare you to."

Shugods, what an insufferable man.

"Well, why don't you try to make yourself useful then?" she mimics his tone with a flip of her hair. 

"And do what?" he asks, beginning to sound suspicious. "What do you want me to do?"

"Oh, you very well could..." she replies, leaning closer to the screen and whispering in a sultry tone, "dress me up."

And Himeno swears she can see the moment Yanma actually stops thinking.

"...huh?" he finally blurts out, after a few seconds of just looking at her.

Himeno smiles. 

Someone needs to get them their Shuggodam uniform, after all!

[hazel2468]

Okay I gotta just... I saw one of the prompt on the list I just posted and I have to like right now so here-

17. Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin.

The leather of the chair tugged at Avery's skin as they settled into Kris' lap, book laid hastily on the small table beside them, mug of tea nudged precariously close to the edge.

"Excuse me," Kris muttered, batting at Avery's tail as it flicked up and against her cheek. "I was getting to the good part."

"Oh, the good part?" Avery grinned, lazily draping her arms around Kris' shoulders. "I didn't know history books had 'good parts'. Tell me about it?" Kris sighed.

"Well, before I was so rudely interrupted I was finally getting to that account of the Battle of-!"

Avery cut her off with a growl and a kiss, fingers sliding into her hair, knees tight at her hips. There was a moment of frustrated struggle, something about "battle tactics" spluttered against Avery's mouth, but Kris gave in, like she always did. Rude interruption or not, Avery was warm, and rolling her hips in a way that suggested that she really didn't intend to let Kris remain in the library for much longer.

"Insufferable." Kris bit out between kisses, now returning them eagerly.

"You seem to suffer me quite well." Avery hissed back, stealing a few quick nips down her wife's neck before returning to her lips. Kris sighed in defeat, pulling Avery closer, hands trailing up her thighs, over her hips, sliding under her shirt to press eagerly into copper-sheen skin-

"THOSE ARE COLD!" Avery shot backwards like a startled cat with a yelp, nearly falling out of Kris' lap and onto the coffee table with an indignant snarl. Kris watched, surprised, before breaking into a smile. "No. No, don't you give me that look-"

"What's cold?" Kris asked, hooking a leg around Avery's middle. Trapping her. "Oh, you mean these?" She shoved her hands back under Avery's shirt and laughed as they squealed, easily ducking their tail as it whipped towards her head.

"Kris Tallstag get those fucking ice blocks away from me you fucking fuCKER NO!"

Avery twisted loose, flipping Kris the bird before scampering off, presumably to find a blanket. Satisfied, Kris picked up her book again, already resolved to go stick her hands in the snow outside before going upstairs to bed.

[yoichii-nagumo]

He didn’t know how they got into this position. Hijikata’s broken sword pierced onto the ground at the side of his head while he guards his neck with his wooden sword. Just short an hour ago the two men were drinking at a bar, bickering the night away. It’s almost a common encounter of Gintoki and Hijikata to run into each other in various places. The first time was at a restaurant, the two unknowingly sat next to each other. The second time was on the same day where they ran into each other at a park. Since then its almost as religion to not see each other every few days.

Today was like many others. Gintoki was at the bar first, drinking sake and chatting up with the bartender, while he sees a tall figure walking towards the seat next to him. He hears the man let out a scoff and Gintoki rolls his eyes.

“Oi tax thief, do you not have a job to do, a nation to protect.” Gintoki imitates the conversation.

“If you weren’t a lazy freak you would know that civil servants can have their days off.” Hijikata spits back.

“Then why are you in that uniform eh?” Gintoki asks. He gets a ‘are you an idiot’ stare from Hijikata. He sees the man open his mouth and then close shut, diverting his eyes away from the silver haired man and called for the bartender.

Hijikata gets himself a bottle and a bowl of Chazuke doused in mayonnaise. He steals a glance to his left, looking at the man playing with his empty sake bottle. He was awfully quiet.

“Are you…..okay” Hijikata asks tentatively. He doesn’t get an immediate response and he sees the man continue to fiddle with his bottle. He hears a small “yeah” and he goes back to finishing his food.

“Do you want to drink together?” He hears the Yorozuya man say. He’s confused to why the question’s being asked. Even if the two men despised each other after a few rounds they end up drinking the rest of the night with each other. Hijikata gets up to move to a seat closer to Gintoki, sliding his bottle in between the two of them.

“I’ll….I’ll just pay for our drinks tonight, you don’t look the best right now” Hijikata surrenders. He’s rewarded with a warm smile from the silver haired man.

The two didn’t talk a lot, just asked each other courtesy questions like ‘how ones day was’ or ‘what did you eat today.’ The air in the room felt solemn. Hijikata liked the silence, it’s almost as if he’s drinking with an actual mature person unlike the Yorozuya that he knows, immature and filthy.

The two in total share an about five sake bottles until the bartender refuses service for the men. They were drunk holding each other’s shoulders for support as they stumbled out the establishment.

“You’re an idiot you know” Gintoki says first.

“EHHHH?”

“You’re so drunk!” Gintoki giggles. Hijikata feels his anger rising. The man’s real insufferable personality seemed to have risen back again.

“Am not. You’re more drunk than me fucker.” Hijikata scowls.

“It’s okay Toshi, you can accept it. You’re a lightweight.” Gintoki sticks his tongue out and teases the man.

“YOU WANT TO FIGHT?” Hijikata yells, drawing his sword from his sheath. The two men are in a dimly lit cold alleyway. It’s almost midnight and there’s barely any people roaming the streets. Hijikata sees Gintoki draw his own wooden sword from his belt.

He taunts the man to take the first strike and Hijikata lunges forward. Even when drunk Gintoki is somehow able to parry his attack, or maybe he was too drunk to land the shot. Either way he hears the blade crack instantly. It’s not the first time the man’s blade had be struck down by the other man. It was as if he wanted to make him spend more money buying new swords. The first time was on top of a roof when he wanted to avenge the disrespect of his beloved Chief. He was immediately countered and a lesson was taught to himself to not let his anger win him over.

Hijikata pushes the man down and he feels a foot kick him off balance. He topples on top of the man, piercing his scabbed sword onto the side of Gintoki’s head for balance as the other hand grabs his wooden sword guarding Gintoki’s neck. He sits himself onto Gintoki’s lap, trying to pry away the sword to choke him.

Gintoki looks up to see the man. The moonlight and dim street ambiance illuminated his face. His hair was dark but it shined through the light. He caught a glimpse of his eyes, blue like the water. Gintoki throws the sword away and the man above him loses balance. Their foreheads touch and he feels the black hair touch his face. He can smell Hijikata’s musk with wisps of tobacco and alcohol.

It clouded his brain. If he pushed himself up even a few inches his lips would meet the others. Gintoki brings a daring hand to Hijikata’s thigh that was cradling his hips. He was sitting on Gintoki’s thighs, awfully close to the growing tent in his pants. He felt Hijikata’s cold hand run through his hair.

“Soft” the man mumbled.

Hijikata looks into Gintoki’s eyes. His eye color was different every time he saw him. Sometimes it would be brown, a murky dead color that complimented his demeanor. When he fought his eyes shined a crimson red, almost vampire like. Not that Hijikata has seen a vampire but if he were to, it would look like that.

today his eyes were the color of wine, almost a dull purple through the moonlight. his eyes were lidded and lust ridden. hijikata wasnt a virgin by any means, he knows what lust looks like. he can hear the deeper breathes gintoki is taking under him, he can feel his fingers shake as the slighty graze his thighs.

he feels gintoki’s hands spike up slowly up his waist to his neck. he chokes the man ever so slightly. a sign of dominance rather then rage. he didnt want to hurt him but he wanted to show his desire. hijikata’s cold hands grasps onto gintokis, prying his hands off his neck.

hijikata leans in, kissing the yorozuya man’s lips firmly. it was chaste and gintokis lips were dry. he pulls back and sits up never breaking eye contact with him.

hijikatas body moves quicker then his hazy mind and he finds himself laying on the cold alley ground with gintoki looking at him like an animal. gintoki kisses his lips, his neck, his face, every open skin he can find. he manages to take off the mans coat and vest, leaving him only in his white button down dress shirt.

hijikata stares at the moon as his left hand plays with gintokis soft hair. the other man was moving faster then his own mind could comprehend. hijikata feels his eyes closing and his head foggy. the adrenaline and alcohol disrupt his mind. his consciousness is dissipating the more the man disrobes and kisses him. hijikata closes his eyes. he can hear gintoki’s faint voice in the background calling out for him. he can feel the man slightly slapping his face into consciousness. its not enough. hijikata manages to let out a small smile and surrenders himself to the man.

—————————————————————

hijikata opens his eyes. he recognizes the location hes in. the shinsengumi barracks. he doesnt recall how he managed to get here. his memory of the previous night was faint, only glimpses of silver hair showed up in his recollection. he sits up to see the other man passed out sitting up, leaning on the wall. he checks the clock, its 5:22am.

hijikata crawls closer to gintoki and pushes him away. the man lets out a shudder as he catches the eyes of the other man.

“oi yorozuya, how did i get here.” hijikata asks.

“so you remember last night that you only want to know how you got here” a smartass answer from the other man.

“only bits and pieces”

“well….” gintoki pauses.

“well?” hijikata asks

“we were uhm. in a compromising position. and uhm. you passed out on me. i had to carry you back here because if i brought you back to yorozuya kagura would get scared” the man explains. hijikata sits straight, legs crossed.

“hey. im going to do something crazy.” hijikata says. before the other man could formulate any responses hijikata kisses him for the second time the night. this time its passionate and long. gintoki lays him down once again and he creeps his way inbetween hijikatas legs. the two break away from the kiss and gintoki unbuttons the mans shirt slowly.

[wodenscild]

ughh i'm in biology class right now but they put me next to the pick me girl :( Like i know i should not be sending asks during class but i finished my assignment already and i'm just :// bored. Really bored.

So this pick me girl right? I say i know a person in Australia named Abzu and Boom! She knows ane too! I am good at speaking English but not at writing it? Boom! she is too! Someone in front of us is bad at speaking English but good at writing it? GUESS WHAT? SHE IS TOO! She is lying so much i hate her grrrrr i want to bite her >:( I cannot stand liars OR people that break promises. Oh? i can curse in Greece? WeLl ShE cAn ToO. GRRRRR I AM GOING TO BITE HER.

By the way is it Greek or Greece? i am so confused ToT. NOW SHE IS SAYING ONLINE FRIENDS ARENT REAL FRIENDS CAUSE YOU HAVENT MET THEM. BIS I HAVE SEEN THEIR FACES THEY ARE NOT TRYING TO GROOM/RAPE ME. Please help i am in misery over here ;^; And oh yeah now they are making fun of Pansexual people (i am one of then btw!! very proud of that!) oh gods help methey are all talking to me there is so much noise 😭😭. :0 thank god my lesson just finished. I AM FREEEEEE

-mystery anon 1

SORRY FOR MY LATE REPLY I HAVE BEEN PLAYING DARK SOULS & DOING ASSIGNMENTS ALL DAY!! I only have 2 exams left for this half of the trimester & I can do them both tomorrow <33 I am so pumped for it!! Also I may or may not be obsessing over Dark Souls- & my autism doesn’t help lmao- I can grind souls for hours on end without a sweat, like I have done so much recently T-T

OMGS TGAT IS THE SECOND TIME SOMEONE THERE SAID THEY KNEW ME MIGHT IT BE THE SAME PERSON?? Pick me people are just… sorta insufferable? Like beloved, what do you do when you are on your own not around any other person?? Do you just… shut down like a robot waiting for a person to adapt your personality to???

& it is Greek :D Greek language Greek people Greek yogurt- which isn’t as Greecie as it sounds ;3 Also she can fekking suck it úwù people online can be amazing, I mean sure you get bad eggs- I have had my own fair share but you seem genuine :] so I trust you. & hhhh panphobia is just… baffling to me?? Just- LIVE & LET LIVE PLEASE YOU DONT HAVE TO MAKE OTHERS SUFFER- btw :000 pan friend <33 you are beloved & amazing!! & I have enough drop bears for all of them fuckers >:] I hope school is better today btw! I love you a lot!!

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

why bakugou & his s/o would be absolutely insufferable to be around:

(read: a list of why loved-up!bakugou is almost somehow worse than his normal self)

- nobody can say a damn thing to him anyways, but after he gets an s/o, a person who’s single can’t even breathe around him. the second bakugou gets the chance he’s “yeah- and who’s the social fuckin’ degenerate who’s still alone, hah? that’s what i thought. shut the fuck up.”-ing them all the damn time

- he’s insufferably snappy lmao,,, he feels like he’s gotta work double-time to keep us his tough act now

- genuinely annoys his friends when when they have vent sessions about their respective relationships,,, bc bakugou will have absolutely no complaints to contribute. wont catch him ever saying anything bad about his s/o like that

- gets used to you knowing him so well that bakugou never actually has to voice what he’s thinking. so when you’re not around n suddenly he has to voice full sentences??? with clarification??? and watch his tone??? pls it’s too much work n he’s grumpy and he’s never going anywhere w/out u ever again

- straight up refuses to do anything social. he had limited social needs anyways, and if he’s got you waiting for him at home than he’s never going out lmaooooo,,, rip his friendships ig

- he hates PDA with everything he has, but bakugou will literally torture denki with the sight of it if that poor blonde fucker is around. no bc this mans is a villain about it - v much taking your hand and kissing your forehead and dragging you into his lap just so he can get the satisfaction of hearing denki scream “Jesus christ, out of everyone, literally everyone you’re the one who got an s/o? it’s fucking unfair! are you kidding me?!”

- damn near constant bickering. just absolutely asinine and endless shit coming out of that man’s mouth

- won’t be civil or even borderline polite to anyone who he thinks has wronged you. like, his loyalty runs so deep this fool will be frothing at the mouth to chew somebody out for u

- uses his s/o as a scapegoat out of literally any and all irritating/boring social situations. just “sorry. can’t. Y/N doesn’t want me to. take it up with them.” ,,,,,, sometimes said with a completely straight face as he’s rejects potential plans from where he’s sat right next to you

- will talk shit w/ you, directly in front of other people, and not make any attempt to whisper at all. only ever says “this is a private fuckin’ conversation. now get the hell out of our faces.” when confronted

- gets absolutely petulant when ur doing something he can’t be a part of. not that he even wanted to join in the first place, but just the knowledge that he can’t is suddenly infuriating

- gets pissy when his friends fuss over u. flares up and tells them to fuck off with their “noise and shitty questions” (really he’s just jealous bc they’re taking up a lot of his already limited time w/ u)

- genuinely thinks that when his friends talk about their s/o’s its a direct challenge to u. like someone will be like “oh yeah, my s/o is like, a super good cook”,, and then somehow bakugou is talking over that person almost immediately, cutting them off to say something like “cooking? just cooking? shit’s fuckin’ embarrassing. Y/N would never be caught dead like that.”

- straight up won’t engage socially in you’re sitting next to him. he expects u to be the social buffer and talk for him (jesus christ he’s so irritating)

- have u ever seen a parent w/ their leash child?? yeah. that’s what bakugou n his s/o look like when he gets angry and they have to hold him back. v much embarrassing for everybody involved (even witnesses)

and finally, the biggest reason on why i think settled!bakugou is a fucking menace:

- he will straight up ignore all others the second you say anything or get up to do anything. and not in a cute butterflies “oh he likes me so much he just gets distracted way🥰”

no it’s a “bakugou takes advantage of the you’re so whipped jokes everyone makes” type of way. its him intentionally demeaning others, in literally the meanest way possible (by pretending they don’t exist entirely),,,, and if he has to use ur relationship as a cover to get away w/ that shit ?? than by all means necessary he will take that mf hit

will also sit back, even when u’ve already left and still ignore everyone else. only says “hah? you’re fuckin’ talkin’ still? sorry- too whipped for ‘em I guess.”

and who’s gonna say anything to him after that? no one. not a single person bc it’s “cute”. and like the public enemy he is, bakugou will exploit the shit out of that

[pascalpanic]

Sunscreen (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: You take a trip with Frankie and his three idiotic best friends. They find an interesting purchase in the gift shop.

W/C: 2.9k

Warnings: language, implied sexual content, lots of innuendo and flirting

A/N: HI!!! this is the first fic of the Beyond The Sea series Rach and I are writing! I can’t wait for everyone to read these! I also love @mandoalorian for doing this with me and putting up with my shit!

and happy birthday to the man behind it all!! lots of love for Pedro on this day <3

The moment Frankie steps off the plane and into the hot weather, he feels instantly at peace. He’d never even heard of St. Kitts before Santiago brought it up a few months ago, but as he looks around, he’s already thinking this might have to be the place he brings you on your honeymoon someday, once he gets the courage to propose.

Your bright laughter rings out behind him, a few steps higher as you walk down the stairs for deplaning. “It’s gorgeous,” you grin, wrapping your arms around Frankie’s neck from behind and pressing a loud kiss to his cheek.

“Shut the fuck up and keep it moving,” a loud voice calls from further behind Frankie- it’s Santiago, grumpy from the somewhat-long flight. The energetic man hates sitting still for too long. “You two can make out at the hotel. There’s a whole plane behind us.”

Sighing, you walked along until both you and Frankie had your feet on solid ground. Frankie pulls you into his side with a strong arm, kissing the top of your head and grinning at the way he can already feel a little sweat forming on his brow. God, it’s fucking hot. He loves it. It’s not the grueling heat that plagued the men when they were at boot camp all those years ago; it’s not the sticky humidity that makes Frankie’s curls turn to tufts of frizz beneath his ball cap. It’s just right, he thinks, as a cool breeze rushes through and moves the still heat of the tarmac. “Welcome to paradise, baby,” Frankie grins as he slides his hand down your arm until your fingers lace together.

-

The resort is beautiful. The lobby is open-aired and gorgeous, with high ceilings and marbled floors. You bounce excitedly alongside Frankie as the two of you walk in, the other three men trailing behind. Benny makes comments to Will about how the two of you are about to be insufferable, and Frankie turns and shoots him a glare.

After you check in, you drag your luggage up to the highest floor. The other three men go to their respective hotel room next door, and Frankie opens the door to your room for you.

As soon as you walk inside, your breath is taken away by the large window, showing you the expanse of the Caribbean Sea, glimmering turquoise. A hand reaches up to cover your mouth, eyes watering as you look up at Frankie. “Oh my god,” you murmur and drop your bags, rushing over.

Frankie had planned this moment. He knew you’d never seen the ocean before just moments ago, but knew you’d love it. You’ve always loved water, loved swimming in pools and creeks and any body of water you could find. The two of you had kept your little window shut during the flight, preventing you from any sneak peeks. “You like it?” he asks as he walks after you, where your face and hands are pressed to the glass.

With eyes sparkling from tears, you turn to him with a grin. “It’s gorgeous.”

“You know there’s a balcony right there,” he teases, putting a hand on your waist and pointing to the side where there’s a sliding glass door. “I’m an idiot,” you laugh and rush over to open it. You step out into the warm air once again, and the smell of sea salt fills your lungs. You can hear the rushing of the ocean, the way it crashes against the shore.

Frankie steps out after you, removing the flannel over his t-shirt. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I think you’re an ocean kind of girl,” he tells you quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I think you’re right,” you agree and grin, kissing the side of his face.

The peaceful moment is interrupted, as always, by a loud whoop from Benny. The sliding door on the balcony over flies open and out rush the Miller brothers and Santiago. “It’s fuckin’ amazing!” Benny laughs as he grips the railing tight, leaning out over it.

“Calm down, Ben,” Will laughs but steps out as well, resting his forearms on the railing. “Look at that. The lovebirds beat us to it.”

“Ah, damn, so they can’t fuck out here now,” Santi teases, causing you to make a face of annoyance.

You lean back against Frankie and roll your eyes. “I was just telling Fish I’ve never seen the ocean,” you admit, placing your hands on his forearms and tracing the strong skin with the pads of your thumbs.

“Really?” All three men ask in sync, surprised.

You nod and shrug. “Parents never took me as a kid or anything, and I’ve never really left the Midwest before I met you fuckers,” you chuckle as you watch the white-capped waves rolling along out in the water.

“Well, you’re welcome,” Santiago grins over at you. It was his whole idea to come, and you’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it. “Could’ve mentioned it sooner though.”

“Didn’t think it mattered,” you shrug, smiling at the way you can feel Frankie’s chest bounce with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go to the beach,” you turn in Frankie’s arms and ask him with a grin, eyes wide with excitement.

“Sure thing, babe,” he nods and steals one more kiss before the two of you walk back into the hotel room.

There’s a voice from the other balcony before Frankie slides the door shut. “We’re going to the bar,” Santi yells. “Meet us there after!”

-

“What the fuck is this?” Will Miller’s gruff voice conveys across the gift shop, to where you’re admiring a shibori-dyed garment.

Looking up, you hear Benny’s loud laugh. “No way. Why would they even make this shit?” You wander over to where the four men have congregated, all staring at something in Will’s hands.

Santiago does the work for the three of you who have yet to see it and reads the label on the bottle aloud. “Seduction: pheromone sunscreen.” He laughs, absolutely in disbelief. “Awaken her passion with this pheromone-infused tanning lotion. Contains a masculine fragrance and the male pheromone, to attract a female. Damn. Does it work?” He asks the woman behind the counter, who shrugs in response.

Frankie picks up the bottle, and Will grabs another, reading the fine print. “Why in the hell did someone think this was necessary?”

You shrug and lean against him to read it too. “I don’t know. Probably for guys like Will who are desperate,” you tease, earning a playful shove that pushes you into Frankie and makes you lose your balance for a moment. “Fucker,” you mutter and steady yourself on your boyfriend’s arm.

“I’m buying it,” Santiago announces and puts it on the check-out counter. “Fish, I’m going to steal your girl with this,” he declares and pulls you into his side. “The power of the pheromone sunscreen.”

Laughing, you allow it to happen. “Maybe it’ll be irresistible, I don’t know.”

“Hey, don’t awaken my girl’s passion, man,” Frankie whines teasingly and pulls you back, wrapping both arms around you protectively. “If you’re using it, Santi, I’m using it too. It’s only fair.”

“It’s only fair if you don’t,” he shoots back. “She already loves you. It’s not like it’s gonna make her think you’re hotter. It’s only fair if I do it alone, and you’re the control.”

“Hi, I’m not a lab rat,” you speak up and push Santiago’s chest teasingly. “Try it on yourself and see if you can make other girls around here fall in love with you. Better yet, like I said, put it on Will. That’s a real test.”

The quietest of the men is your favorite to tease, mainly because of how he takes it. “You’ve never been in the ocean. I will personally make sure you never get to,” he threatens, lunging after you and making you squeal and dodge it.

-

“Is it working?” Santiago asks, giving you a full body twirl. You have to admit, the man is good-looking: you’ve always known it, and his glistening abs definitely emphasize it. Sadly for him, nothing about the pheromone sunscreen is making him unbearably attractive in your eyes. Your eyes are hidden behind mirrored sunglasses as you look at him, but you pull them down to roll your eyes at the ridiculous man.

“No,” you say with a sweet smile, taking Frankie’s hand from where it rests on his chest. He’s lying next to you in the two-seat cabana, wearing his swim trunks and ever-present ball cap. “I like this one still,” you grin as you run your eyes up and down his body.

Frankie grins back at you. “Maybe I’ll have to try that shit out,” he laughs, adjusting his hat. “If it’s so seductive, I wouldn’t mind having you all over me.”

Santiago makes a gagging noise and wanders down the beach, to where the Miller boys are playing sand volleyball a hundred yards or so away. “You know that you don’t need that for me to be all over you, baby,” you grin and lean over to give him a kiss. “Can we go swim?” You ask, sitting up and putting your sunglasses on your head.

Frankie sighs softly. This cabana was just getting comfortable. “I was thinking we could tan first,” he says, cracking his neck. “But if you want to, let’s go.”

You squeal and hop up, taking off the sunglasses before tugging on your bikini top and adjusting the bra. Frankie ogles your chest in the swimsuit and you smack his arm. “Francisco Morales, cut that out or I’m going to sit you back down and suck your dick right now.”

Frankie gulps. “Is that an offer, or-”

“Come on, Fishie,” you laugh. Grabbing his arm, you take off running through the sand, leaving him to follow. You both grin as the sand flies around you, the warm wind brushing against your skin. When you reach the edge of the water, you stand at the edge for a second and let the water rush over your feet and ankles. You look up at Frankie with big and confused eyes. “The water is so warm,” you laugh, slightly confused as you wade a little deeper.

“It’s the Caribbean Sea, babe,” Frankie chuckles, walking backwards and holding your hands, leading you deeper into the water.

“I guess,” you chuckle as the warm water surrounds more and more of your legs. “I suppose I just- Frankie!”

Note to self: never turn your back on the ocean, you mentally conclude as a wave hits Frankie from behind and knocks him over, into the salty and sandy water. You laugh a little as he falls over with a large splash, squealing as the water sprays you. He comes up a moment later, shaking his head to get the water out of your eyes. “Come on in, it’s really warm,” he tells you with a laugh, spitting the salty sea water out of his mouth. It’s only about thigh deep now, and you look down at him and wade a little deeper. He swims out and you follow, grinning.

“Hey, Frankie,” you ask, when the water reaches your navel.

“Yeah, babe?” he asks, confused when you drop your hands.

“Catch me!” You squeal as you jump onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms catch you, but he purposely falls backwards until the both of you are under the crystal-clear water.

When you surface, you wipe your face. “That wasn’t what I meant by catch me,” you laugh, swimming over to your boyfriend, who’s surfaced in a shoulder-deep area.

“Doesn’t matter. Now you went all the way under,” he grins at you. “Now you’ve really swam in the ocean- swam? Swum?”

“Have been in,” you offer, laughing and wading over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, then your legs, and his arms encircle your middle. “It doesn’t matter. I love you so fucking much, Frankie,” you tell him with a wide grin, looking over his shoulder at the waves further out.

“I love you too, baby,” he mumbles and kisses you. His lips taste like the salt water the two of you have been submerged in. His hands grip your hips as he wanders through the water, you hanging off of him like a koala.

You rest your face in his neck, admiring the scent of seawater and sunscreen and Frankie’s skin. Frankie starts singing a terrible version of the Piña Colada Song, making you laugh and press a loving kiss to the side of his face. “Is this your way of telling me you want to hit the bar?” You tease and squeeze him a little tighter.

“Maybe. You know I hate the flying part of getting here.” It’s ironic, you’ve always thought, but you suppose it makes sense that Frankie doesn’t really like airplanes. Helicopters are and always have been his forte, and it’s a feeling you understand: when he isn’t the one flying, he gets antsy. Things are out of his control, and he doesn’t like that. “I just need a strong drink and some lovin’ from you and I think I can finally relax.”

You grin and pull back, kissing him happily for a moment before pulling back and grinning. “Well, one part of that accomplished,” you grin. A realization hits you and you gasp. “Oh my god. You’re Fishie, and you’re in the ocean,” you laugh. “How did you ever get that name?” You ask, suddenly curious.

Frankie shakes his head, his hair starting to curl as it dries. The salty water makes it even wavier. “Doesn’t matter.”

You shrug and rest your head in his neck. You sigh and enjoy the feeling of Frankie’s arms and the warm water, the way a breeze rushes past and makes the back of your neck chilly from the drops of water resting there. Frankie mindlessly watches the other three men playing volleyball, wandering around the water with you. “Frankie?” You murmur into his skin.

“Yeah baby?”

“This has already been the best vacation ever, and it’s the first full day,” you tell him and remove yourself from his body, standing next to him in the water.

He grins and kisses you softly, wrapping an arm around your side to keep you close. “I fully agree.”

The two of you wander up to the shore a while later, plopping back down in your cabana. Will has gone to the bar and comes back with tropical drinks for each of you, which you hold in one hand and sip, your boyfriend’s hand in your other one.

A while later, Santi and Benny run back, covered in sweat from the heat and the game. “How about now, huh?” He asks you, flexing his arms, grinning.

You play into it, gasping and sitting up straight. “Oh, Santi,” you coo seductively, pouting. The face drops immediately. “Nope. Not working.” “Ah, should’ve figured. Anyone attracted to Fish would have weird preferences,” he shakes his head.

Frankie takes the alcohol-saturated lime from the rim of his drink and throws it at him, which makes a smack noise as it makes contact with Santiago’s chest. “Fuck off.”

“I will do no such thing,” Santi grins at him and plops down in the chair next to him. “My sole job here is to pester you two lovebirds and ruin your wonderful vacation.”

Benny, ever the prankster, sneaks up behind Santiago and pours a glass of ice water from the bar over his head. Santiago practically squeals at the sensation and Benny launches off into a run. Santiago follows. “You little shit! Just because you’re a fighter doesn’t mean I’ll kick your ass, Benjamin!”

The two of them occupied and Will up at the bathroom, you sigh as you roll over onto your stomach. “Frankie baby, will you sunscreen my back?” you ask him, propping yourself up on your arms.

“Sure thing,” he nods, sitting up and grabbing the bottle from your beach bag. He gets up and squirts some in his palms before working it into your lower legs, then your upper thighs. When he reaches your ass, he takes a few liberties in squeezing it. “That’s not how you put on sunscreen, flyboy,” you tease and giggle at the motions.

“Just got carried away,” he chuckles and works at your lower back, then your shoulders and arms. “There. All good.”

“Thanks, baby,” you coo and kiss him softly when he sits back down. “You want some too?” He nods, flopping onto his back. You repeat what he did, standing and working on his legs.

The further you get up his thighs, you can hear his breath hitch slightly, the wet swim trunks sticking tight to a hardening crotch. “Frankie,” you coo, working your hands up beneath the fabric.

“Sorry,” he winces, willing himself to force the growing erection down. Naturally, it doesn’t work.

You giggle softly, working some sunscreen into his stomach. “Don’t be. Pull up that shade, baby,” you tell him, referring to the shade that can completely cover the cabana when pulled up.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles as you pull his swim trunks down just enough. “Guess I didn’t need that stupid pheromone sunscreen,” he murmurs hurriedly as the shade covers the both of you.

-

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic

[fanmoose12]

Are you still taking prompt? If you do, I have a request. Hange lives beside Mikasa's house. Levi saw her when he was forced to babysit Mikasa, his cousin, for a day. After that, Levi is really attracted to Hange, he even offered to babysit Mikasa (which he never did before) to see Hange. Levi is that tsundere guy who tends to do stupid things to get his crush attention. He even told Mikasa to accidentally get lost to Hange house so that he has an alibi to talk to her. The rest is up to you 😂

"Mikasa, please."

"No."

"Mikasa, I'm-" he was well above begging, but- "I'm asking you."

Mikasa's dark eyes peered into his. Levi didn't like the look inside them. The annoying brat lifted the corners of her lips, and Levi bit down a curse. If he ever dared to curse in front of his cousin, she'd rat him out in no time. She would tell her mother, or worse, his mother. He still hadn’t forgotten the previous lecture about proper behavior in the presence of children.

"If I help you..." Mikasa twirled a lock of her hair, looking far too innocent for Levi's taste. With Mikasa, innocuous face always meant trouble. "What will I get out of it?"

Kenny's influence in action, Levi thought grimly. Maybe, he should talk with Mikasa's parents about him. Obviously, the fucker wasn't good for their daughter.

Looking at Mikasa, Levi sighed. "I'll buy you an ice-cream."

"Mm," Mikasa raised her gaze to the celling, pressing a finger to her mouth. For a moment, she appeared to be deep in thought. Levi was already starting to celebrate his victory. But then-

"No," she declared. "Ice cream is not enough."

Levi swallowed down a "greedy brat" and offered, "I'll take you to the cinema."

Mikasa grimaced. "I don't want to go to the cinema with you."

Levi closed his eyes, counting to ten. He was going to refrain from calling his cousin a fucking nuisance. Otherwise, his mother would have his head.

"Fine," he grunted, glaring at her. Mikasa met his eyes with an equally dark expression. "What do you want?"

Mikasa smiled, as though she was waiting for this question since the very beginning of their negotiation. 

"You're going to let me stay at your place. And you're going to let me invite Eren and Armin for a sleepover. And you're going to buy us as many snacks as we want."

"Oi-" Levi started only to be interrupted by Mikasa.

"Do you want me to bring Hange-san here or not?"

"...Yes."

Mikasa outstretched her little hand to him. "Do we have a deal then?"

Levi accepted his defeat with a long sigh. "We do," he answered, shaking her hand.

His plan was simple - stupid, Mikasa had called it, but what could that brat know - and Levi was confident in its success.

"That's all I have to do?" Mikasa asked. "Just go to Hange-san's house?"

"And tell her that you're lost." Levi reminded.

"You know that Hange-san is smart, right? She would never believe in this."

"Convince her then."

"But-"

"I'll let you pick any movie you want. And you can stay up all night."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "This is manipulation."

Levi shrugged. He was not above exploiting his cousin. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

"Just do your job,” he instructed.

"Fine!" Mikasa stomped her feet, giving him a look so dark Levi was actually impressed. "I'll do it. But you have to promise that you won't bother us during the sleepover."

Levi rolled his eyes, for the thousandth times cursing his cousin. Why in the world she was so goddamn difficult, girls her age should be polite and timid, not so disrespectful and greedy. "Cross my heart and hope to die," he gritted through teeth. "Now go."

***

Glued to the window, Levi intently watched the street, waiting to see Mikasa's gloomy face and - hopefully - the pretty face of her neighbour, Hange Zoe.

Levi had met her a month ago, during the weekend that he was once again forced to spend babysitting his annoying cousin. He was trying to teach Mikasa how to ride a bike, when he saw her for the first time - Hange Zoe was tending to the small garden on her front lawn. Wearing denim overalls and a straw hat, with a soft smile on her pretty, round face, she was a sight Levi couldn't tear his gaze off.

He spent an embarrassingly long moment, staring at her, until Hange finally took notice of him and Mikasa. She greeted his cousin with a wave of a hand, beckoning her to come closer. Reluctantly - Levi wasn't sure if the invitation included him too - he followed after Mikasa.

And that's when he learnt her name. And found out that Hange wasn't tending to a garden, but was actually picking insects for her pet tarantulas. That's when all hope was lost for him.

Hange Zoe was weird. She was messy. She was wild.

And Levi didn't believe in love at first glance, but- ever since that day he couldn't stop thinking about her.

He came to babysit Mikasa next week, and then a week after that. And soon what wasn't love at first sight quickly turned into an insufferable crush that left Levi feeling like he was turning into pathetic, lovesick fool. 

He was thinking about Hange at work and at home. He was thinking about her during breakfast, lunch and dinner. He couldn’t get away from her even in his dreams. Hange took residence in his mind, stubbornly refusing to leave.

Every time they talked - Levi felt like the biggest idiot in the world. When Hange looked at him, his face burned. When she smiled, his heart was racing and his thoughts were turning into a mash. 

Once Hange touched his hand, and Levi thought he was going to faint.

Being close with her was awful, being apart - felt even worse. That's why he had to request the help of his cousin. As annoying as she was, Mikasa was Levi's only link to his crush.

Staring at the empty lawn, Levi tapped his foot impatiently. What was taking Mikasa so long? Hange lived just across the street.

Levi swept his eyes across the road again and- hurriedly backed away from the window, closing the curtain.

Mikasa was almost next to the door. And with her was Hange.

Levi desperately tried to calm his wildly beating heart. It refused to listen to his order. He took a shuddering breath and the doorbell rang. He rushed to answer it.

"Hello!" Hange chirped, as he opened the door.

Their eyes met, and Levi felt his knees turn to jelly. 

"Hi," he echoed quietly.

"This is kinda awkward," Hange chuckled, the sound like a music to Levi's ears. "But I found your cousin sitting on my doorstep? Mikasa said she was lost?" she laughed again, rubbing her neck. "We've been neighbours for years, don't know how that's possible..."

"He made me do it," Mikasa pointed at Levi, a wicked glint in her eyes. "He wanted to talk to you, Hange-san, but couldn't find a reason."

Mikasa was gone as soon as she finished. She ran past Levi and rushed upstairs. He watched her disappear, a thousand curses at the tip of his tongue. Cousin or not, he was going to murder the brat.

"Um, Levi?" Hange's voice distracted him from thinking where he could hide the body. "Did Mikasa-"

"She's an idiot." Levi glowered.

"So that was..."

This was it, Levi decided. Hange gave him a perfect opening. He was either going to confess his feelings or he was going to live out his days as a lonely, pathetic coward. The time has come, now he had to gather all of his courage and-

"Mikasa is very bad at pranks."

...And he was going to die as a coward.

"Oh, alright," Hange nodded, shuffling her feet awkwardly. "I'll go then... If Mikasa was lying and you don't wish to hang out together..."

Oh what a sympathetic, kind person. She was giving him a second chance. Would he be able to use it?

Levi pictured Mikasa's wicked smile and all of the mocking he would have to go through if she finds out that he wasted a perfect opportunity to confess. It gave Levi the strength and resolve he so badly needed.

He took a deep breath, looked Hange in the eyes and-

"Mikasa wasn't actually lying," he whispered.

Instantly, maintaining eye contact became too arduous of a task, and Levi shamefully lowered his gaze.

He thought of closing the door in her face and then changing his name to move to another country, but then- Hange gingerly touched his arm. Her hand was warm and her skin was soft. Levi was dangerously close to swooning.

“Wanna go to my place?” she offered, and Levi thought that if Hange asked, he’d follow her to the ends of Earth. “I can introduce you to Sawney and Bean?” 

“Sawney and Bean?”

“My pet tarantulas!” Hange proudly answered. 

Levi hated spiders. Just the thought of their small hairy legs made him shudder and squirm. But- it was Hange who was asking, and he was sick of being a coward. 

Besides, what was a spider compared to speaking about his feelings? A walk in a park...

“Just let me grab my jacket,” he told Hange. 

The smile she gave him as an answer was bright enough to blind him. 

Maybe, he’ll put off Mikasa’s murder for a while.