#i hope this was okay anon <3

[thebusytypewriter]

May I request from your Followers event. If it's no trouble, I request izuru kamakura and reader insert, and the length will be long. And can it be fluff with a tint of angst, That's all and thank you!

Oh absolutely, anon. I went ham with this one (the brainrot was BAD) so enjoy the extra long fic!~

As always, this will be cross-posted onto AO3 shortly.

As the world falls to pieces, no one is immune to injury, fatal or not.

You learn that the hard way when rioters become extra violent in Tokyo, which ends in several explosions, wrecks, fires… everything. Whether it’s a homemade blast, something stolen from the government, or a freak earthquake, you have no idea. All that you know was that you’re just trying to evacuate when something goes off, throwing you a dozen feet back, feet-over-head. You crash into something hard and simply black out from the impact.

How you’re still alive is a mystery to be sure. When you come to, you’re sprawled across the pavement, lightheaded and confused. To get your bearings, you attempt to stand.

Keyword being attempt.

Your legs aren’t cooperating, simply staying inert even when you pull up on a nearby car. All of your arm strength isn’t enough to pull yourself up, and your lower back hurts like a bitch. It’s enough to make you cry out in pain and frustration as you simply flop back onto the road, defeated.

For the first time, you realize that you’re alone and completely helpless.

Until you hear footsteps nearby—heeled shoes, clicking across the debris-covered pavement, heading in your direction with careful steps.

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. You’re not sure how much time has passed since the explosion, so you can’t completely rule out the idea that it’s a rioter. They were bloodthirsty people, and you would rather not get got immediately after waking up.

…Then again, who knows how long you could stay alive like this? Would you even be able to pull yourself to a store to get food? Or water?

The footsteps continue to approach, growing louder with every moment. You debate pleading for your life, wondering amidst the panic what you would even have to offer in exchange when—

“What an inconvenient place to rest,” they say, monotone and male. “The tension in your face suggests that you’re in pain.”

“Just get it over with,” you groan instead. “Put me out of my misery, yada yada.”

“Why would I kill you? You’re no threat to me.”

That’s… odd. You hesitantly open your eyes to see a vibrant red gaze looking back at you. This man stands over you without any sign of wary, only a blank expression on his face with the slightest hint of curiosity. Your eye is drawn multiple places, from the red eyes, to the long dark hair, to the rough scar across his crown. This is someone with a story, and you’d be enthralled if it wasn’t for the lingering confusion as to why he’s just… staring at you.

Weirdest looking angel I’ve ever seen.

“I assure you,” he says without prompt, “I am no angel.” When you gawk and open your mouth to question him, he simply talks over you. “Are you so faint as to not be aware that you said that out loud?”

It forces a startled laugh out of you. “I, uh, think I might have a concussion. Also my legs don’t work. So please, feel free to move on with your day.”

The stranger blinks at you. Once. Twice. “Odd,” he finally says, small and distant. “I shouldn’t be feeling pity.”

“Odd thing to say.”

“I should be incapable of having emotion. I was made that way.”

The scar across his crown suddenly makes sense, and now you’re feeling pity.

“Are your arms functional?” he asks.

“Yeah, looks like it. I can always just pull myself along until I find shelter, so—”

His hands are on you, then, guiding you up into a sitting position while you startle. The stranger is rather cold to the touch, but he’s quite gentle. After you’ve sat up, he fully squats in front of you, his gaze tracing everywhere available to it. One hand finds its way to the side of your head, and you yelp at the sharp pain. His brow furrows in response.

You think he’s checking your injuries, but for someone as hypothetically-emotionless as him, it feels odd.

He turns, back facing you now, and reaches out behind him a bit. “Arms around my neck.”

“Wh—The hell are you—?”

“That was not a request.” There’s no audible bite to his words, but you decide that you don’t want to test it.

Still hesitantly, you lean forward as much as you can and lock your arms around his neck, careful to not pull any of his hair in the process. Just as you’re about to question his intentions, the stranger’s hands slide under your knees and hoist you up into a piggyback position. You half expect him to show some kind of effort in standing, but he does so without problem.

You hold just a little bit tighter. “H-Hey, uh, whatcha doing?”

“I will be your transportation and protection until you are well enough to take care of yourself,” he responds simply, the duh implied. “Is this to your satisfaction?”

“…Do you have a name?”

Red eyes find you over his shoulder, no longer cold and menacing, but soft. “I have been named Izuru Kamukura. Call me whatever you wish, within reason.”

You introduce yourself to your savior, and he begins walking to god-knows-where.

– – –

Kamukura is, in fact, someone with a story. A batshit one, even.

Somehow, you manage to coerce him into spilling some things about himself. While he doesn’t remember much more than the past year or so, he does know that he was created as artificial talent by Hope’s Peak Academy by giving some poor Reserve Course student a lobotomy. (You’re upset on his behalf. What a dick move, Hope’s Peak.)

In return, you tell him a bit about yourself. Though, truthfully, there’s far less to tell than him. You’re a new university student, having barely made it past your second semester when everything went to shit. It’s unfortunate, really, but you do feel some semblance of peace without schoolwork constantly weighing down your shoulders.

Kamukura carries you everywhere, which really is everywhere, since you don’t have a destination, and he’s the wandering type. When not on the move, he provides you physical and occupational therapy by utilizing his many talents. Slowly, you gain more mobility in your lower half, but your legs still don’t cooperate enough to walk properly. When you suggest scouting out or making a wheelchair, he closes off.

You’ve gotten used to it, being looked after by a walking mystery. And if you didn’t know any better, you would say that you’ve both grown fond of each other.

(You contemplate kissing him by the fire one night.)

(You don’t. Your anxiety overtakes you.)

Judging by the day/night cycle, your time with Kamukura lasts for about three months before something changes. He’s particularly restless one morning from the moment you wake up, and he doesn’t elaborate when you ask him about it. You decide not to press.

It takes all day, but he ends up bringing you to the old Hope’s Peak Academy building, in all of its crumbling glory.

On the second floor, you arrive at a door that stands slightly ajar. It’s evidently a classroom, based on the remainder of desks scattering the place. From your minimal knowledge of Hope’s Peak, you know that this building was used for the Main Course students—the “Ultimates.” What would Kamukura have to do with classroom—You find the splintered remnant of a sign hanging from the wall—77-B?

Inside, he sets you down on the most intact chair. “Do you still have those flowers you found?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you nod and pull out the carefully-wrapped bundle: a daisy and a carnation. His luck had graced you with encountering the two in the remains of a flower shop the day before, so you’d taken special care to preserve them until you could find a good spot to replant them. It seems that he has another idea.

Kamukura grabs a vase from a shelf—again, has to be his luck for it to not be any worse than cracked—and gingerly places your flowers inside. He then sets it on a desk at the back of the room and slightly turns it, leaving a pretty array.

The pain that reaches his eyes alerts you to the truth—this is a memorial.

“…A friend of yours?” you ask as gently as you can.

“Chiaki Nanami. I believe she used to be a friend, before the Project.” Kamukura reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small hair clip, one with a pixelated spaceship. He rubs it between his fingers. “I watched her die at the hands of Junko Enoshima. I should have saved her. I was more than capable of doing so.”

“They took your emotions from you,” you counter. “Or at least they tried to. It’s not your fault you didn’t have the will to do it.”

“No, I am at fault. But at least Enoshima is dead now. She can no longer hurt the few people that I care about.” His meaningful gaze finds yours, and it shoots warmth through your body. “Would you mind giving a few moments of quiet? I have not been able to properly reflect on her like this until now.”

“Of course. Take as long as you need.”

And so he does.

Many minutes pass as Kamukura stares out the window into the setting sun, silent and somber. You watch him for a while, hurting by association, before you quietly pull out some paper and a pencil from your bag. Even if you can’t make this girl a headstone or something similar, you can make do and lay out a sign by the vase.

Chiaki Nanami, beloved friend and hero. Never forgotten.

While you fancy the lettering up a bit, something catches your eye from the doorway, forcing you to drop the pencil as you gasp. “K–Kamukura…!”

There stands a new face, a boy that can’t be much younger than you or your companion. His wide amber eyes are primarily locked on Kamukura, but they flicker to you with your outburst. With a suit and styled brown hair, you would have pegged him as a government agent or something, but he seems more nervous than anything.

You realize that you recognize him.

Kamukura turns sharply at your call, red eyes more murderous than they’d been in the past months, but they dull when they meet the newcomer’s. “Makoto Naegi. I understand that you’re here to apprehend me on behalf of the Future Foundation, along with the three dozen soldiers rapidly approaching our location.”

Naegi smiles in return, apologetic. “It’s, uh, good to meet you, Kamukura. But… yeah. Are you…?”

“I will not be running this time,” Kamukura assures him. “I will come quietly.”

You gape at the admission. “Wh—You’re—”

“On one condition.”

“O-Oh? Well, um, sure!” Naegi nods. “Sure. What is it?”

The walking mystery meets your gaze finally, and you hate the hesitancy in them. “My companion here is paralyzed in their lower half and requires medical attention. Physical therapy. Proper meals. I will only surrender if you take care of them as I have. They are not associated with my actions, and they are very important to me.”

Heat flies to your cheeks, but it does nothing to stop the pit from forming in your stomach.

The other seems surprised at Kamukura’s words, but he doesn’t voice it. Instead, his own apprehension melts away in favor of warm understanding. “I swear, we’ll take care of them as our own.”

“Then I surrender.”

“No,” you snap, pushing yourself up from the chair. Your weak legs wobble and threaten to give, but you hold yourself upright. “No, you can’t just leave me. Not after everything.” The desk is released in an attempt to step toward him, and your knees buckle beneath you.

He crosses the room in an instant, catching you under the arms before you fall completely and holding you to his chest. Your name comes out softly as he holds a hand to the side of your head like he did when you met. “I’ve known from the start that my path leads to the Future Foundation. It was a stroke of luck to come across a kind soul like yours along the way. Now I know that the Project could not strip me of all emotion; how else would I feel such fondness as this?”

“But I’m not gonna see you again, am I?”

“It is… unlikely, but not impossible. I won’t die, that much I am certain of. Stay with Naegi and his team until you’re better.”

“Kamukura—”

“That was not a request.”

You’re only faintly aware of the soldiers filing into the room as you hold his suit lapels tightly, stubbornly. They have to pull you from him like lovers separated in a war, and you’re handed off to Naegi as he apologizes to you.

Kamukura is escorted out of the building in restraints, and that’s the last you see of him.

Somewhere in the mess, a flower vase had been knocked over, its contents spilling onto the scorched classroom floor.

– – –

Given your questionable status within the Future Foundation, you’re kept in the dark about the Remnants as soon as they’re shipped off. Not that you expect much different, to be fair. No one trusts you from the moment you enter the facility, despite your lack of hostility and current physical handicap.

Speaking of, you’re quickly gifted a wheelchair for mobility purposes, but therapy is put on hold for the time being. It leaves your legs stiff and sore, even when you try to repeat the stretches Kamukura did with you.

You miss him, and you vocalize it often.

Asahina, a friend of Naegi’s, is in charge of monitoring you while her compatriots oversee the Remnants elsewhere. She does her best to keep you positive, and it only works sometimes.

You’re holding the pixel hair clip close one evening when your room’s monitor flickers on.

It shows the classroom Kamukura took you to, but it’s completely unscathed. Whole. Like the Tragedy never happened at all. You recognize the faces there from what little information you were given about the Remnants—Komaeda… Kuzuryu… Koizumi… all of them.

One girl introduces herself as Chiaki Nanami, and you gasp. Could it be…?

The final student enters the room, and your shock is completely overshadowed as you do a double-take. You know that face. It’s pinched with anxiety, not neutral, but you know it. You know those eyes. They’re olive green, not red, but you know them.

He calls himself Hajime Hinata, and you’re confused as hell.

Hina bursts into your room then, frantic and also confused as hell. She then spills their plan involving the Neo World Program, explaining the idea of blocking out Despair memories to heal their inner selves—or something like that—and clarifying that they did not expect Kamukura to revert to his pre-Project self.

You find that you like Hinata, but you wish he were Kamukura.

Then the killing game starts.

During your time with Kamukura, you’d witnessed the School Life of Mutual Killing, live on television, from start to finish. It was a horrific experience, and you weren’t even there. With the same bear in charge this time, the Remnants end up pressured to begin killing each other.

For the next three weeks, their numbers steadily decrease. You’re relieved that Hinata’s managed to make it this far.

As the program finally winds down, you catch wind of the Board’s displeasure of Naegi’s unauthorized actions. Hina manages to convince Togami to take you with him when he absconds, avoiding the fray, only for you to panic when one final killing game occurs among the Board and trial participants. Togami and his squadron rush to find their location, and you tag along on the helicopter ride to help with damage control.

To your surprise, Naegi insists that he and the others are fine and taken care of, and he points you in the direction of the seafront. You catch a glimpse of Class 77-B, and you take off in your wheelchair to meet them.

They’re piling onto a commandeered Future Foundation battleship, every one of them alive. It should be impossible for that to be the case, but you have a hunch.

You call out for Hinata, who startles, as you approach. Finally, sparing some room between you, your wheelchair comes to a stop. “So, um, you probably don’t know me, but I just…”

All words fail as you notice a distinct change about him—while one eye remains green, the other has taken on that sharp red you used to know. It’s the only thing truly Kamukura-like about him in appearance, but somehow it soothes you. There’s confusion in them, but only for a moment.

Hinata smiles, the warmth filling both eyes, and he says your name without prompt. “He told you he wouldn’t die, right?”

“Is he—”

“He’s in here. I think we have a lot to talk about. Do you think they’d mind if I borrowed you for a bit…?”

“Who the fuck cares?” You roll forward and past him to the ship’s ramp. “My transportation and protection is on this ship. If I’m a traitor, I’m a traitor. Munakata can fuck off.”

A laugh bubbles from him, and your heart flutters at the sound.

Even if he isn’t completely Kamukura, he’s still someone to lean on, both literally and figuratively.

He’s home.

I think there's been a glitch

Five seconds later, I'm fastening myself to you with a stitch

And I'm not even sorry

Nights are so starry, blood moonlit

It must be counterfeit

I think there's been a glitch

[halfhardharrington]

Basil! I am already in love with your blog! I HAVE to know your thoughts on Eddie with a dick piercing. It seems right up his alley and I hear that it can feel incredible during sex. Steve would probably want it to against the back of his throat and then abusing his prostate while he gets his back blown out 👀

Hi !! thank you <3

But god, I love the idea of Eddie having what's called a Jacob's Ladder along the underside of his dick. (If u don't know what it is Google it. It's hot)

Steve shakes and grips the sheets as Eddie pushes in inch by inch, each piercing catching slighty on his rim before slipping inside him. When Eddie pulls back, Steve can feel them drag agaisnt his walls and it's so fucking addictive, he wants Eddie inside him forever, he never wants the feeling to end. Eddie's pierced nearly everywhere, his tongue piercing dips into the dimples at the base of Steve's spine, his nipple piercings dig into Steve's back when Eddie pulls him up by the hair and holds him flush against his chest. There's always so many sensations at once, so many things that contribute to Steve practically sobbing through every orgasm because he's so overwhelmed by Eddie and everything about him.

[nataliescatorccio]

LUCY GRAY BAIRD'S RAINBOW DRESS The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (2023) Costume Design: Trish Summerville

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

Rory Gilmore and Jess Mariano wearing red in The Bracebridge Dinner

[showstopper35]

Hello! Do you still write for Tfp/Transformers Prime? If so, I have a request!

Maybe ‘cons reacting to reader dealing with a person that caused a lot of childhood trauma? If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to ignore it!! I just am dealing with a person who wasn’t the greatest to me as a kid and would really like some headcanon comfort <3

again, feel free to ignore and remember to take care of yourself!

of course! thanks so much for the request, darlin’! I hope you are doing well and my DMs are open if you ever need to talk. 💛

Megatron

-He knows. He knows how it feels to be scorned in your youth. He knows how much you hurt. He also knows that he wouldn’t be the best at comforting you, so he provides a distraction. -Every time you come to him an anxious, frustrated mess because of them, he takes you to stargaze or to read or just sit on the top of the ship in peace. -Megatron entertains you will tales of when he was younger, fighting for the freedoms he still believes in. You know he’s been hurt too and there’s a comfort in knowing you both still are yet to move on from that past, and that’s okay. You’ll confront it when you are stronger.

Starscream

-He’s not…the best at comforting people. But he is angry. So angry. Why would anyone hurt you? Especially when you were so small? He’s felt small every day of his life, he can’t imagine what sort of monster does that to a sparkling.

-Honestly, he turns into an outlet for your rage. Want to scratch something up? He finds things for you to break, things for you to throw. It's not the most healthy, but when has anything he ever done been?

-When all your anger has been exhausted, he just sits with you. That helps more, and he knows that, but he won't say anything. And that's okay.

Knockout

-Out of all the cons I think he would be the most helpful. He pampers you, taking you on long drives and god-awful drive-in movies to distract you. He's also willing to just listen to you vent to him while he's working in the medbay.

-If the harmful person comes back, you can bet he's got his saw blade out and will not hesitate to bring them down. He provides you with a free escape ride if you are ever in an uncomfortable situation.

-He is always, always ready to shower you with compliments, especially when he picks up that you've had a bad day. And if you don't feel like telling him what's going on, he will distract you with the randomest stories about himself. It always makes you laugh.

Breakdown

-You better believe that this guy's got hugs for days for you. After many, many, many threats to whomever is hurting you, he sits with you and listens to you vent.

-His attempts at reassuring comments aren't the best, but he tries. He'd much rather go pound the jerk to dust, though.

-He somehow smuggles a shitload of chocolate and ice cream up to the Nemesis for you. Most of the ice cream melts before you can eat it, but it is still delicious.

Arachnid

-The person who is hurting you is never seen or heard from again :)

-You don't mention it and neither does she.

Soundwave

-You better believe that you will never go anywhere near your abuser again. He keeps tabs on them, removing you from anywhere within a 5-mile radius of them. If you do happen to meet them, he is sending Laserbeak and they have roasted limbs from lasers.

-Records everything you say they did and privately keeps it just in case. Not to blackmail them or to send them to the police, of course.

-Lets you play with Laserbeak and pulls up comforting and funny videos to watch with you. He is as silent as ever, but that doesn't change the fact that he cares about you.

Dreadwing

-He pretty much becomes your personal bodyguard. It's a little strange at first, but you get used to his presence and sweet insistence in accompanying you everywhere, especially if you encounter your abuser.

-You can bet that if anything ever happens again with that person, they will go down in a firey explosion orchestrated by his own hand.

-Sucks at speaking to you (about anything, really. he's so stiff.), but when he cleans his weapons, he is happy to listen to you.

Shockwave

-Ah yes, Mr. no emotions. He tries...I think. He'd rather give you some weapon of mass destruction than listen to you detail all of your abuse. I mean, it's a solution, I guess.

-He makes you watch the seekers to learn self-defense and also read some Cybertronian literature on battle tactics.

-At least you can punch now and use poisons?

Predaking

-After learning what had happened to you, he refuses to let you leave his side for weeks. He cares for you and distracts you by terrorizing Starscream on the ship.

-Eventually, though, he accompanies you to meet with the abuser. You talk with them for a bit before he comes crashing down in his dragon form, scaring them into oblivion.

-It felt really good.

[hungharrington]

okay but could you please write something about steve’s reaction to the reader thinking her boobs are too small for him? because i needed it yesterday and it’s all i can think about

foh sure my friend <3 fem!reader, 1k, MDNI this entire blog is 18+ other than that, enjoy <3

You don't want to be that girl. Digging up a partner's history and trying on comparisons in the mirror til you're sick with jealousy. You know you don't want to do this to yourself, you know that— especially when it always leads to bitter feelings and bruised self-esteems.

But... Steve seems to have a type, whether he realises it or not.

Dana Williams was at least a double-D cup. As was Cindy Prince and as was probably every other girl that Steve's ever gotten into bed with over his sprawling sexual history. Everyone, of course, except for you.

But hey, you're pretty certain you have the tiny, tiny insecurity under wraps. That you can keep it from ruining the budding relationship between you and Steve that is so good, that tastes sickeningly sweet with how well he treats you.

That is, until you're pressed up against the leather of his backseats, his hot mouth kissing yours, hands wandering up higher and higher up your midriff. You don't even notice you do it — freeze up on him — til Steve is pausing, pulling back from you, panting.

"Y'good?" He asks, licking his lips. He checks your face properly, trying to get a read on you. "Everything okay?"

You nod with a hum, trying to settle the nerves alight under your skin. You don't need to be nervous, really, you know Steve wouldn't be so cruel as to dislike you over something so trivial as small boobs. But it doesn't quell your insecurity like you hoped. You still worry what he might think when his hands start wandering again.

Satisfied with you nod, Steve surges forward again and his kiss finds your neck, suckling sweet little marks into the side of it in a way that has you sighing lustfully in his ear. He nips at your neck perfectly, lips hot and teasing, making you squirm —you arch your back into his chest with another soft sigh of his name, your desire boiling hot.

"Mm, feel good?" Steve murmurs into your skin heavily, just as his hand slides up to your chest. You feel your body recoil just an inch as insecurity blooms a mile wide in your mind and in an instant, Steve is halting, again, pulling back from you. His brows pull together, his concern evident on his face as he searches your face.

"Hey, if you don't want—"

"No!" You interrupt, shaking your head. "I- I definitely want to. Believe me, I really want to." You push up and connect your lips with his, a soft and deep kiss that Steve melts under, getting your message across. When it breaks, Steve looks relieved but still, his eyes search yours desperately.

"Then... what?" He looks around the car, looking for the apparent thing bothering you that he can't spot. "Is it the place? I promise no one comes out here but- but we can go somewhere else if you want? Maybe back to—"

You kiss him again, strong and sure and Steve gives a sweet little hmph! against your lips, his hands on your waist gripping tighter. You pull back but stay close, your nose brushing his and can't help but grin. Steve always looks so flushed with love after you kiss him; cheeks glowing, lips pinker than ever... Your stomach does a flip as he regards you with such ardent desire.

"Okay, okay," He nods, a bit breathless. "If it's not any of that..."

He trails off, leaves it open ended for you to answer and you resist the urge to squirm away from the question. It feels silly now, even more silly than worrying about it earlier all alone in your head. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and decide to just be out with it.

"My boobs!" You exclaim, louder than you intend.

Steve's eyes widen a bit. "Your boobs? What- what about them?"

As he speaks, his eyes drop to your chest and there's no mistaking the hunger that creeps in to his gaze. Not so subtlety, one of his hands moves to adjust his jeans as his eyes move back to your face, waiting.

"They're small." You say in explanation. Steve blinks, head tilting to the side an inch in confusion. "Too small," you say, voice a little smaller. "I know in the past you- well, I don't know but I, uh, I figured that—"

"Woah, woah," Steve butts in, expression a little bewildered. His hands on your waist grow a bit surer in their grip and he tugs you closer, the two of you pressed against one another. "Firstly, Steve Harrington is a lover of all boobies. No matter the size."

He's smiling but you can tell he isn't making fun of you; no, in the way Steve speaks in earnest, tone soaked in seriousness, you know he means it.

"Secondly," He begins, leaning in close, dropping a kiss on your neck. He kisses his way down, lips scraping along your collarbones as he does, pulling back just enough to speak. "I like these boobies," he skims the underside of one with his thumb, enough to make you inhale sharply. Steve grins. "Because of the girl attached to them."

A laugh bursts out of you and Steve lasts only a second longer before he's laughing too, lips curved into a grin against your skin. "That sounded so much better in my head." He admits bashfully.

"That's okay," You say, running your hand over his hair soothingly, even as another laugh titters out before you can stop it. It turns quickly into a gasp as Steve's hand shifts up again, palm covering your tit as his thumb rubbing over your nipple that peaks up in interest. He's already back to his lazy kisses on your chest, still traveling lower and you can't deny how good it makes you feel. The fire in your belly burns hotter.

"Gonna let me show you?" He hums, fingers pinching your nipple in a way that makes you keen. His other hand shifts up, reaching to tug your shirt down — but he pauses before he gets anywhere, still checking. He gazes up through his lashes, big brown eyes pleading for longer taste of your skin and you nod, breathy and hot.

"Good girl," He purrs, pulling your shirt down further, his kisses following suit as he begins to suck the first of many little lovebites onto the skin of your chest. Writhing beneath him, moans pouring from you as your cunt gets wetter and the windows get even foggier yet, it takes only a matter of minutes before you find it quite hard to recall any insecurity whatsoever...

[transformers-earthspark]

Apologies for my recent radio silence. I've had a lot on my mind lately.

This post isn't Earthspark-related at all, but please read it.

I need to take a second on this blog to acknowledge some things going on in the world. I should not have stayed silent on this blog before, but I'm trying to fix that now.

Genocide in Palestine + how you can help Palestinians

You can buy e-sims for people in Gaza here. Anything helps.

Click here daily to help generate funds for Palestine. It's free and takes less than a minute.

Here's a list of where you can donate to help Palestine.

(If there's anything I should add to this section, please let me know.)

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The KOSA bill, what it's going to do if passed, and how you can help prevent it from taking effect

KOSA will essentially erase anonymity from the internet by requiring people to upload their government ID or other form of identification to any social media site, as well as restricting resources and information on LGBT rights, history, racism, and more. This bill will censor the entire internet and destroy privacy while violating First Amendment rights and potentially putting minors in danger.

This also could very well mean the end of Tumblr, and I'm not exaggerating here.

Tomorrow KOSA could be passed in Senate, and from there it will need to pass in the House of Representatives before being signed into law by the president. It's not doomsday yet, but it is a dangerous situation-- and here's what you can do.

StopKOSA.org provides you with a template email to send to your representatives. You can leave it how it is or edit it to say what you want, and then send it from their website.

The website also allows you to call your representatives and gives you a template of what to say.

BadInternetBills.org, run by the same people, takes action against KOSA as well as other bills like EARN IT. At the time of posting this, over 356,000 people have signed this petition.

Additionally there are several petitions on change.org to help stop KOSA. Here are a few of them.

STOP KOSA

STOP THE KOSA

Stop Kosa

Save Humanity, Oppose KOSA

STOP THE KOSA ACT

(Again, please let me know if there's anything I should add.)

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One last thing-- The evolution of AI images and video.

I don't really have anything good to say. AI is evolving fast and changing the world as we know it. We are adapting, but nobody knows how this really is going to end up.

A few quick points:

AI images are not art. That's all. AI "artists" who genuinely claim to have made something of their own just by typing a prompt into a generator will be blocked. (Which has been in my rules for a while, but I still think it needs to be said.)

I recommend Glaze for artists who don't want their art being scraped and used for data training. Especially with the recent rumors of an upcoming deal between Tumblr and Midjourney. There's also a similar program called Nightshade (haha, earthspark reference? anyone?🦉) that I haven't tested myself but have heard good things about.

-----

That's all, I suppose. Reblogs are good, if you don't mind.

Spread the word about KOSA. Contact your representatives. Sign the petitions.

Support Palestine if possible. Donate if you can. If you are unable to donate, make sure to do your daily clicks.

Stay safe and take care of yourselves. ❤️

[silly-writes]

Hi! I love your work! Can you do a Mike + alters, Scott, Alejandro (seperate) x reader where the reader has really bad sensory issues, especially with loud noises, and can have panic attacks from them? if your not okay with writing this then that’s totally fine /gen. it’s important to take care of yourself.

Contestants with reader who gets overstimulated.

Aaa thank u for this request anon! Yes i'm totally comfortable writing this kind of stuff! Thanks for being so kind about it! As an autistic person with really bad sensory issues myself I actually find it a thearputic, lol. Okay enough about me, enjoy!

Mike

dealing with a traumagenic disorder (DID) I would imagine he's honestly kind of in the same boat.

He's no stranger to panic attacks, and is pretty well versed by now in how to deal with them.

The first time it happens though he's sort of an anxious wreck, he's just nervous that trying to help might make it worse, but he doesn't want to leave your side.

He gives you lot's of words of encouragement, and helps you through breathing exercises, and gets you plenty of water.

"It's okay, breathe with me, I'm right here," he assures you gently.

If you require pressure/physical contact during your panic attacks, he's more than happy to give you that.

He gets good at catching them too, he'll always be able to identify when you're about to spiral because of too much noise or too bright lights, and he'll find a quiet secluded room so he can work through it with you.

"Sorry you have to deal with this too," you said, after a particularly bad one, you still felt dizzy, and tears still stained your face, but you had come out of it now, and felt a little guilty.

"Hey don't apologize, I don't mind. Not at all."

He's just very caring with this kind of stuff in general.

Manitoba

Maintoba is similar to Mike, and I would think he likes to carry around a backpack whenever he is fronting (you never know when you're going to run into treasure). So he always keeps noise canceling headphones and a pair of sunglasses in there just for you.

Honestly I headcanon him as the caretaker of the system, so I imagine he's used to caring for people during panic attacks.

He's very observant, probably even more so than Mike, so he's better at avoiding them all together by identifying what situations you can handle and what you can't.

He always does a little research before the two of you go out in the environment to ensure that it doesn't seem loud/bright/overstimulating.

However sometimes these things are just unavoidable, and inevitable.

He'll provide you with whatever physical comfort you require, if any at all.

Anything you need, he's there to get for you.

"Take all the time in the world treasure, I'll still be here," he said.

He's all around good at keeping you grounded, and just good at being there with you.

Svetlana

I would think Svetlana is probably the protector/gatekeeper, most of her comfort comes from her just being fiercely loyal.

She'll be there no matter what, and you take great comfort in that fact.

She's not as good with being traditionally comforting, since it's a little out of her element.

Not that she doesn't try of course, she really cares about you, and she wants that to come across.

(I would think she would panic a little and ask Manitoba and Mike for help from the inner world).

But she would absolutely stay with you, coaching you through breathing exercises, talking to try and distract you.

Eventually if you let her know what you need (be it space, a distracting, physical comfort, quiet, dark) you name it, she will get it for you.

She's much better at caring for you after the panic attack honestly, when you feel really tired and put out, disoriented and just overwhelmed.

"Svetlana's here now to melt all your worries away," she smiled at you once.

She'll almost always bring you home, or take you to a secluded room, and just hangout with you. She'll turn all the lights off and sit in silence with you so you can have basically zero sensory input for a little while.

She'll absolutely stay with you until you feel yourself again.

Mal

Okay things with Mal are a little tricky.

He's for sure a former prosecutor and after a bit of system healing, definitely prosecutor turned protector.

Don't get me wrong though, he can still be a little nasty and snarky sometimes, but he's working on getting better.

Which is why he feels sort of out of his element when he's with you when you're having a panic attack.

He's not good at being comforting, and he barely knows what to do when he has a panic attack, so the first time it happens he completely freezes up.

He might even let someone else front to help you out instead of him.

After a while he gets better at keeping up with your triggers, and while he remains pretty awful at being comforting, he's good at grounding you.

He's glad sometimes that being there is enough sometimes, he doesn't know what he'd do if it wasn't.

"Sorry I can't do more..." he said one day.

You smile at him "You being here is enough sometimes."

Scott

Scott is also somewhat of a wreck I would imagine.

Growing up fairly isolated on a farm he's understandably really rough with being intune with people's emotions, he's not really all that good at reading you. Or anyone for that matter.

The first few times, he's shocked everytime.

What could be making you feel like this? He had no idea.

He would definitely need a list of all of your triggers, you have to tell him what helps you and what doesn't outright. Scott doesn't really like playing guessing games, especially when it comes to your safety and comfort.

Clear communication becomes pretty important for the two of you in all honesty, and the two of you work at it all the time.

Eventually he gets better at serving you during panic attacks, or meltdowns, he knows what to do after a little while.

Again I would think he's really good at protecting, so I think he's super good at keeping people away when he sees you're overstimulated.

"Don't touch them!" he huffed when someone was trying to tap you to get your attention.

Overall, he's really really trying for you, and knowing that is comfort enough.

Alejandro

It's no secret that Alejandro is very intune with people, just one of his many skills.

So he can tell right away from his very first meeting you, any loud noises, bright lights, things like that just don't mix well with you.

He steers clear of them when around you, always guiding you more towards quieter, much calmer and secluded dates.

When driving he turns the music down, and makes sure that all audio input looks like its helping you and not harming you.

Plus I feel like (and this is totally me projecting btw) he would carry around stim toys for you to distract yourself with, and headphones for when things are a lot.

But again, sometimes things just happen, and try as he might to protect you, it's not always possible.

He can always tell when things are getting to be a lot for you, he's good at reading everyone but you in specific.

He's really good at covering for you, if someone is asking where you are, or needs/wants to talk to you when you need to be alone he'll keep them away from you.

He'll spend as much time as you need helping you.

"Are you feeling better mi amor?" He would ask.

"Almost-" you said, voice a little course and shaky "-sorry," you said softly.

"Don't apologize, I don't mind at all."

Alejandro can be really nurturing when he wants to be.

He might deny it, deny it to the ends of the earth but he's very good at taking care of you.

[venompinks]

NAYEON ❀ airport departure 23.12.26 ↪︎ anon request

[rodolfoparras]

ik ur requests r closed buttttttt could u maybe write a quick drabble thingie 👉👈

ik this is weird but like i’m super into like traditional “masculine manly” men who r like super into “girly” cute things. like hello kitty n wearing pink. so how about with price, pretty please

-🕷️

ps love u

It may have been one two or three drinks at the bar when you had described your ideal type to Price.

You hadn’t been awfully specific in your description. You had just said that you like pretty people, pretty people could be boys, could be girls, could be really anyone, could even be Price.

As he stares at himself in the mirror, he thinks he looks pretty with concealer dabbed lightly on his face to hide any visible imperfections, eyeliner drawn in such way to give a sultry look to his eyes and pink on his lips and cheeks just to feel pretty.

He’d even gone as far as to dig up one of his favorite tops out the closet, the one with a plunging neckline that hugs his pecs just right and shows off his dog tags.

It’s not often he allows himself to look this way, to look pretty. The army wasn’t a place for pretty men and as the captain of a sas squad he rarely allowed himself to look this way.

However today he wasn’t an army man- a captain of a sas squad. Today he was John, just john, the man who’s been pining after his best friend for years and went out his way to get all pretty for you in hopes of you noticing him, and not in the way a friend would spot a familiar face in a crowed but rather in the way someone would lay their eyes on a person that they loved.

However for a second he feels doubt creeping up his back, bile rising up his throat and legs readying themselves to run because you’ve never seen Price dressed up and with make up on.

You’ve only ever seen him with black face paint smeared on his face, dressed in heavy gear that protected vital organs and hid vulnerable parts of his body.

What if when you said you liked pretty people, you didn’t mean pretty women and men, what if Price wasn’t included in your definition of what you think is pretty, what if you laugh in his face when you see him all dressed up with make up on his face what if-

He doesn’t get to grumble on it any further before the door bursts open and you walk in.

“John are you ready to g-“

He braves himself, swallows down the acid burning in his throat, stretches out his hands as if to present himself before saying the words “well how do I look?”

You try to speak, but no words slip past your lips and your voice even embarrassingly breaks, as you try to answer his question.

“Didn’t think you’d feel this strongly about a lad in make-up” he says with a forced chuckle, in an attempt to ease the tension while folding his arms across his chest.

“What no wait-“ you say, words rushing to tumble off your lips while furiously waving your hands in the air.”it’s not like that”

“‘It’s alright, no need to explain let’s get moving before we’re late” he says while brushing past you.

“John” you say as gently grab ahold of his arm.

He just hums in response, a forced smile painted on his face as he turns to meet your gaze, braving himself for what you’re about to say.

“I wanted to say that it suits you” you say and it’s only now he hears the slight crack in your voice the way you’re shyly looking down at the floor while fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt.

“Yeah?” He says, voice sounding steadier and smile turning much more genuine.

You just hum in response, hand going to his face to swipe away the mascara that smudged on his eyelid before smiling down at him. “Yeah I think you look pretty”

“Pretty?” He echos back to you in response, tone heavy and word carefully uttered as if you’d take them back any second if he said it too loudly.

Your hand cup his cheek, calloused thumb caressing soft skin, and for a second he dares imagine that your eyes flicker down to his lips.

“Very pretty” you say with a smile on your face, touch lasting a bit too long before you drop your hand to gentle grab his elbow.

“Come on, we have to go now or we’ll be late”

[sematarygirls]

godddd please write more about jealous amanda i need her to know she can’t get our man bc he’s pussy whipped and in lurv ❤️😋☺️😭

your wish is my command 😏🤭 (small continuation of this ask)

                   ౨ৎ

"i'll see you later," you said, giving sonny a quick peck on the cheek before turning to the rest of the squad. "it was lovely to meet you all. i hope to see you again soon," you smiled warmly.

you had hung around for a couple hours but ultimately, needed to get home. you had a few things to straighten out for work and around the house, and you'd also really wanted some wind down time to yourself to destress for a bit before bed.

"see you around," finn smiled, giving you a nod, like you had passed some test of sorts. it made you feel sort of accomplished. finn was an interesting guy, and you were flattered to be someone he considered alright in his book.

"drive safe," olivia told you, giving you a warm smile.

"yeah, have a nice night," amanda mumbled reluctantly, her tone insincere.

"i love you," he called, watching as you left. you shook your head, grinning and blowing him a kiss. he pretended to catch it and press it to his heart. if you weren't already halfway out the door, you would have rolled your eyes and lovingly called him a dork. "she's great, isn't she, guys?" he turned back, a proud smile on his face.

"i don't know how on earth you bagged her, carisi, but you better not mess up," finn laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"oh, don't listen to him," olivia laughed. "you two are adorable together"

"aw, come on," he grinned, waving them off, but he couldn't help the blush that crept up onto his cheeks.

"what do you think, rollins?" he asked. she had been abnormally quiet all night, and he was dying to know what she was thinking.

"she's alright," amanda shrugged. she had that tense posture and tone of voice she always had when she was holding something back.

"well, i think it's time to get home to noah," olivia said, standing from the barstool and placing some money on the bar.

"yeah, i'm gonna call it a night too," finn follow suit, both of them clearly sensing the tension.

"goodnight," amanda called, glancing over, waving goodbye at them. they both waved back, heading for the door quickly, wanting to put as much distance between them and the impending argument as possible.

olivia had her fair share of arguments with stabler in her time. she knew exactly how heated and personal they could become, and finn, he just didn't want to have to sit there awkwardly. the fighting would make his beer taste bad— or so he would say.

"yeah, goodnight," sonny said, but his voice was quiet as he continued to stare at amanda with furrowed brows. "cmon, rollins," he pried, sitting down next to her. "i know when you're not tellin' me the truth"

"listen, carisi," she sighed, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. "i don't want to hurt your feelings, alright?"

"hurt my feelings?" he asked, feeling extremely confused. he felt like the introduction went well. was there something that he had missed?

"i just don't think she's good enough for you," she finally said, looking over to meet his eyes.

"not good enough for me?" he almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. "if anything, i'm the one that's not good enough for her!" his tone wasn't angry or defensive, just confused, as if he had never even considered the thought that he was too good for you.

"i'm just saying-" she paused, trying to find the words without coming across as jealous as she felt. "she doesn't understand the job and its demands. she won't understand you."

"amanda," sonny said, his voice low and serious. "you're my partner, and i respect your opinion more than anyone else's, but you're wrong."

"carisi-"

"no," he stopped her, his tone firm but not unkind. "if it's her understanding me that's your concern, i can assure you, she gets me like no one else. no one else has ever made me feel so seen and loved before. she may not always understand my job or my stressful law classes, but she listens, and she tries to understand, and that's what's important to me. i wanted you all to meet her because i love her, and you guys have grown to mean a lot to me. i would love for you to like her and be something friend adjacent, but i'm not going to lose sleep over it if you don't approve," he said, leaving no room for discussion.

amanda stared at him, opening her mouth to say something back, but she couldn't think of anything. she thought she could express her disapproval, and he would accept it. what she didn't expect was for him to come to your defense like that.

he really loved you, and there was nothing she could do about it.

[stedefxckingbonnet]

hello hello! i don’t think i’ve seen anything like this yet, so may i request izzy x gn!reader who’s a bit insecure?

maybe they struggle with body image or something and izzy is basically like “how are they so blind??” but he struggles to express it because he’s never had to be so soft for anyone?

of course, ignore it if you’re not comfortable with it! :)

Hi, everyone!!

So, it's been a while. And I mean, a while. Longer than I wanted to step away from writing, and I never really wanted to step away from it in the first place but some stuff happened and yada yada. But I'm truly, truly hoping to be back and writing again to some capacity, I have truly missed writing for Izzy and for you all and I feel as though the world needs Izzy Hands content now more than ever! I truly do hope to be back.

I hope you don't mind that I put my own spin onto this, anon! You provided the lovely central plot and idea, and I simply provided an atmosphere and story to go with. Body image/insecurity is something I struggle with too, no matter how many times people tell me that I am beautiful, and I tried to channel that in this one. I am also not trying to send the message that other people's validation is what can make a person feel better about themself! I am more so trying to convey that the one(s) we love can often show us things about ourselves that we didn't know were there or didn't see before, and that they help us to love and appreciate these things about ourselves, and ourselves in general. You all who are reading this are so, so wonderful and beautiful and extraordinary even if you have a hard time believing it, and maybe your comfort character can help you to believe it a bit more in this little fic♡

Anyhow, please, request! Don't hesitate! My messages are also always open for anyone who needs anything but also just to say hi or talk about anything really. Thank you all for your everlasting support, patience, and kindness especially through my sort of absence ♡ Also, please, if I have used your gif or you know who created it, please credit yourself or them! I am not always good at figuring that sort of stuff out, but I want to give credit where credit is due. Have a wonderful day (or night), everyone!

Love,

Lavinia

What I See | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight swearing, struggles with body image and insecurity, very direct izzy (in a good, affectionate way but may be inaccurate ish? but i believe it isn't)

Word Count: 2525

"I just don't understand it!" the first mate angrily threw his hands up in the air. "I just don't understand why Bonnet is dragging us to one of those stupid...fancy people gatherings."

You couldn't help but laugh at such a sight, seeing Izzy Hands so distraught, though his usual cloud of anguish didn't seem to surround him. This was different, something you couldn't exactly place, but it was endearing nonetheless. "A ball, you mean?" your lips curled into a playful smile.

"I don't care what it's called," Izzy grumbled. "All I know is that I don't want to be there."

"It could be fun!" you suggested, your smile growing larger.

"Has Bonnet brainwashed you somehow?" Izzy rolled his eyes, but for just a moment, maybe, you could have sworn you saw a smile on the first mate's visage.

"If worse comes to worse, there'll be plenty of alcohol to drink," you laughed, softly squeezing Izzy's shoulder. Subtle touches like these between the two of you were second nature, almost instinctual, yet you were certain Izzy didn't make much of it and plainly saw them as something friendly. You almost sighed at such a thought.

And perhaps you had your own motives for wanting to drag Israel Hands along to such an event. Perhaps it gave you an excuse to hold him close to you without him suspecting a single thing, just that it was all custom meant to be followed in such a setting. You thought maybe, just maybe, it would be the opportune night to spend some more time with Izzy, just the two of you in the moonlight, dancing and chatting the night away, cheek to cheek...

"Fancy people alcohol," Izzy groaned in response, snapping you out of your daydream, to which luckily, he didn't notice you had slipped into in the first place.

"It's better than nothing," you rolled your eyes playfully. "Now, come on. Bonnet's got some fabrics for us to borrow, he says. I've come to fetch you," you now smiled teasingly.

"Oh, joy!" Izzy exclaimed sarcastically, yet he still followed your lead.

The only reason he was even remotely tolerating the night ahead was to be able to find himself closer to you, away from the chaos of The Revenge and all else it had to offer. Spending a night with you wouldn't be dreadful in the slightest for Izzy, and had you not been attending at all, he wouldn't even hesitate to let Ed and Stede go off to this awful event by themselves. But even Stede knew that your presence was enough to get Izzy to agree to such a thing, and really, what could be more convincing than you?

Before Izzy could comprehend it, your figure was wrapped in an ethereal ensemble. You studied yourself in the mirror, a frown naturally falling upon your face, though it quickly faltered as he came into view.

By the sea gods, you looked astonishing. Izzy already knew you would be the most bewitching of the ball, and that perhaps he would have to compete with other awful suitors of high society to even just get a moment alone with you. He almost became troubled at the thought, but your unmatched beauty was enough to distract him from such a notion. You had taken his breath away and this wasn't exactly a feeling he was used to, though it wasn't one that he disliked. No, not at all. In fact, he could get used to this, and he wanted to. Even though his own reflection stood right before him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. He never could have fathomed until he met you that someone could be so breathtaking, so...alluring.

But all you were thinking about is how your clothing seemed to accentuate all of the wrong features, in your eyes.

'And the color—it washes me out, doesn't it?' you thought to yourself, almost fighting back tears.

Finally, Izzy spoke, though he immediately regret doing so. "Will you be comfortable?" He almost began to scold himself. 'That's all you have to say? This attractive person is standing right beside you and that's all you can manage to say?'

"Oh, yes. I've got plenty of moving room," you assured him, doing your best to step out of your own head for a moment. You even tried to shoot him a convincing smile. "I'll be just fine."

Finally, your eyes wandered over to his image, instead of focusing either at your own reflection or onto the ground. You felt your face becoming warm as you caught a glimpse of the man before you—how he was transformed, yet, still the Izzy Hands you knew and loved. Only elevated, and even more enchanting than usual. Your jaw almost dropped to the ground.

"What? I look fucking dumb, don't I?" Izzy laughed annoyedly.

"No! No, Izzy, you look..."

Before you could finish your statement, Stede rushed in. "You two ready to go? Oh, look at the two of you! You look divine!"

You looked over at Izzy, sending a supportive, yet spirited smile his way. Izzy couldn't help but return the sentiment as the two of you were ushered off of the ship and into another realm unbeknownst to the both of you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Some of the sweetest melodies you had ever heard began to surround you as you stepped into the ornately decorated room. You could hardly believe how much space there was in just one part of this residence, and that it was dedicated for dancing and other sorts of happenings similar to these. Before you knew it, for just a moment, you succumbed to your wonder of what having a life like this would entail, though you were quickly reminded of your distaste towards it when you saw a woman weeping and being chased out of the room by a man screaming extreme obscenities toward her. You and Izzy slowly looked toward one another in disbelief, the both of you fighting off laughter.

"It's not too late to get out of here," Izzy whispered.

You rolled your eyes with that same familiar grin this action always seemed to come with. "We're hardly even here."

Defeated, Izzy sighed and slumped against a wall, though quickly coming off it as soon as he spotted Stede glaring daggers at him from across the room. Another sigh escaped his lips, and you burst into a fit of laughter, unable to contain yourself. As annoyed as Izzy was at what just happened, your laughter was an antidote, and he was certainly taking it in.

Though, his newfound smile quickly faltered when he noticed a handsome stranger eyeing you from a few feet away. But you didn't even notice that someone else had noticed you—you only cared if the man in front of you had, and he seemed to be occupied by something else.

"Iz?" you asked in confusion. "What is it?"

Without another word, Izzy motioned his head to the side, to which you finally noticed the attention of another that you had captured.

"And?" you shook your head, unsure of what Izzy had been insinuating.

"He wants to dance with you," Izzy pointed out, rolling his eyes without realizing. "And you should have some fun. Don't let me hold you back."

You opened your mouth to speak in protest, but quickly closed it once again. How would you admit, in the midst of a stuffy room with a plethora of people you don't know who are all dancing and speaking at the top of their lungs, that all you had looked forward to this evening was to sharing a dance with Izzy Hands and no one else? That it was the only reason you even considered forcing yourself into an outfit that made you feel bad about yourself, even worse than you already do, and surrounding yourself with a million strangers whilst doing it? The thought alone sounded like a nightmare, but with Izzy by your side, it sounded like a dream come true. But Izzy was pushing you toward this stranger before you could comprehend it, and then you watched Izzy's figure disappear slowly into the distance as you were whisked away.

"I've never seen you here before," the stranger pointed out. "And if I had, I think I'd remember a beautiful person such as yourself."

These words made your insides twist. Your companion spoke with sincerity, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it. 'He's just being polite,' you told yourself, brushing it off.

"It's been a few years," you lied, not wanting to blow your cover, or especially Stede's cover, as you were sure he wasn't exactly welcomed back into an environment such as this. "I don't usually speak to many."

"Well, isn't it my lucky day then?" he laughed. "No one here even compares to you. You are something special. What did you say your name was?"

But before the perhaps unlucky stranger knew it, you were nowhere to be found. You kept running until your environs became darker, and the moon was your only source of light. You leaned against the railing of a balcony, your vision blurred by tears. You flinched upon feeling a hand on your shoulder, but quickly relaxed once you noticed out of your periphery that it was none other than Izzy's touch.

"Did he offend you? I swear, I'll have his head before he can even fucking think of using it again—"

"No, no. He didn't. It's fine, really," you shrugged, blinking back tears to the best of your ability. But even the darkness of the night failed to hide your misery. Izzy softened upon noticing your state.

"What is it?" he asked, concern dripping from his voice as he looked at you intently. You stared at your hands gripping the railing, but you quickly tore your eyes away from that sight and stared out into the night.

"I—This is why I didn't want to come tonight!" you exclaimed.

"You—but you were so—"

"Excited? Yeah, right," you laughed sadly, shaking your head.

"What is it?" Izzy repeated, worry written all over his face. "Are you sure I don't need to behead anyone?"

Another laugh escaped you. "No, Izzy. He—he said I was beautiful. That's not a crime."

"He wasn't wrong," Izzy shrugged, a small smile making its way onto his face. With this, you couldn't help but meet Izzy's eyes, and you couldn't help but return a smile. Though quickly, it vanished, and your original demeanor overtook you once again.

"He was though," you protested. "This is why I don't like coming to these things. Squeezing myself into these clothes."

"I know these clothes are a bit ridiculous," Izzy laughed. "But yet you still manage to be so...beautiful."

Your heart began to do pirouettes inside your chest. For once in your life, part of you believed such a statement could be directed toward yourself. But Izzy could see the plagued expression on your face.

"You don't believe me?"

You shook your head as you finally allowed tears to fall down your face and drip onto your chest. Izzy frowned and took a few steps closer to you so as to gently wipe away your tears with his thumb, though his hand lingered for a moment longer, caressing your cheek as he was about to speak.

"You could be covered in dirt and I'd still find you beautiful," Izzy assured you. "You know, when I first saw you, I knew even then that you were. And you become more so every single day. You are the most enchanting person I've ever crossed paths with and laid my eyes upon. And there's so many things about the world I find are awful to have to experience and look at, but not you. You're the opposite of everything that's wrong with the world."

Sobs escaped your chest as you fell into Izzy's arms, to which he instinctively caught you, engulfing you carefully in his arms. He softly wrapped his fingers in your hair as he held you. 'I am holding the world in my arms right now,' he thought to himself, and thank the sea gods your face was buried into the crook of his neck and you couldn't see the grin that conquered his lips.

As for you, you never believed it when anyone else said these sorts of things to you. You found it impossible to believe these things about yourself; there were even days where you'd purposefully avoid any sort of reflective surface just to ensure that you don't break down. Sometimes, you couldn't even bear to look at yourself. But hearing Izzy declaring all of this to you—for the first time, perhaps you would actually be able to believe it.

Your silence made beads of sweat form atop Izzy's temple, but he didn't dare let you go to wipe them away. You clung onto him tighter, which only thawed Izzy's heart even more. He couldn't believe all that he just said, even though it was all true, and your lack of a response made his heart race even more.

"You are beautiful," Izzy repeated as he melted into your embrace, and embraced the shared silence. Something about it was comforting in a way he had never experienced before. If he could, he would exist in this moment forever.

Finally, you slowly pulled away, though your hands still clung onto the first mate's arms, and your faces were a short distance away from one another. At the same time, the two of you leaned in to close said distance between the two of you, and all bits of yearning, desire, love, and desperation poured out into this moment. Even without Izzy's words, he had already managed to make you feel lovely in every way even just by him being around. He was the one person who managed to help you see what was so amazing about yourself. You quickly melted into the sudden collision of your lips and he kissed you with a fervor that you had been craving from him for as long as you could remember. You smiled against his lips, and once air became scarce, the two of you simultaneously sought it. Once you both pulled apart for air, a collective joyous laugh filled both of your ears.

"I only wanted to come to this stupid thing because you'd be here," you admitted, and you were sure your cheeks were as red as the roses in the garden that surrounded you.

Izzy couldn't help but smile. "I wasn't going to come until Bonnet mentioned you would be. I meant what I said, you know. You are beautiful, and I'm sorry, but you're fucking dumb if you don't see that."

You threw your head back as you laughed before meeting Izzy's gaze once again. "You are so beautiful," Izzy repeated once again, all teasing aside to show his sincerity. You reached for his hand and squeezed it tenderly as the two of you looked out into nighttime, but all Izzy could focus on was how even more ravishing you looked as the moon illuminated your face.

[okiroash]

what do you think were red's motivations for leaving to mt. silver?

A lot of reasons,,!!!! I'll list them..

The fame that came from being a champion, becoming that of a young celebrity... having the media follow your trail, tracking everything you do, trying to get their chance to have an interview with you (even when you're in your own home)... borderline stalking, it's terribly scary to happen to someone.. let alone an 11 years old kid who isn't much of a people person

A headcanon I have is that red had been bullied and left out from groups in his early childhood, the feeling of alienation never left him, turning into a champion has completely make him feel even lonelier than ever before... the way people would hail him as a legend, some sort of- concept of strength.. a figure to strive as, a hero who can never show struggle or much emotions, pretty much dehuminizing him.. (this is.. based off the adoration from the ingame dialogues + how a lot of irl fans treats him)

So when he shows a side that's different from people's idealized version of him, bad rumors spread and it's just awful, to be hearing that in whispers as you walk pass them

Another thing is champion's responsibility... because the previous champions have been adults they can do league work just fine, but red's a kid so... while good thing he doesn't have to do most of the work, he still have to attend meetings (which he hates it because he ends up learning about corruption and shit about kanto) he also have to be on standby within the champion room- for far too long than he would like.. makes him feel like he's inside an enclosure, nothing new ever comes, not even a window to look out

The third reason as to why he left is.. to protect the people who are close to him... his mom has to constantly deal with refusing down intervierwers, leftover team rockets grunts have a grudge against him and he have seen what they're capable of.. he cares about his family a lot..

And.. lastly.. the face blue made when he defeated him in the last battle... oak coming to the room to scold him only made things worser.. it never left him, red felt so much guilt

You can see how red doesn't feel at home anywhere anymore.. not with the media.. not with everything.. can't take a proper break, after numerous overwhelming days he took off to mountain silver in the middle of the night..

[lemony-snickers]

Kakashixgn!reader and 37 for the kissing prompt? (I can't decide if it's better if he's the one being made jealous or if kissing him to make someone else jealous is better, so I'll leave that to your discretion) love your work and I hope the Friday boredom isn't too dreary 💚

Kakashi drummed his fingers on the table as he watched you order. Across the bar, your teeth flashed as you offered the bartender a bright smile as they leaned toward you conspiratorily.

He knew it shouldn't bother him half as much as it did, but there was little he could do about his reaction.

The feeling of mine that flashed through his mind was primal, animalistic, and he saw no use in fighting it.

You returned to the table a few minutes later, two drinks and a bowl of edamame in your hands.

"Sorry that took so long," you said as you slid back into your seat. "Bartender says they haven't been this busy in a while, if we want anything else, I can just order from the bar instead of waiting for a server."

"Mm," Kakashi said, reaching for his drink and pulling it closer, the fingers of his other hand still drumming on the table.

You flicked your eyes up to meet his. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, though even he knew it came out a little too petulantly. "I'm just hungry."

You sat back in your seat, smiling, now. "Why didn't you say so, I could have ordered you something."

He shrugged. "It's fine."

He had to stop drumming his fingers. Kakashi only managed to force himself to do so when he finally lifted them to pull his mask down, turning his face away from the busy interior of the room to take a sip from his drink.

He could feel someone's stare scraping over his nape like a razor, and his grip on his glass tightened.

Kakashi did his best to ignore the attention as he pulled his mask back over his nose and listened to you tell a terribly animated story about your day. He did love watching you get excited about something like this, the way your eyes glistened, your hands moved too quickly as you gestured your way through the tale.

It was almost enough for him to ignore the way the bartender was currently burning a hole through the side of his head from the force of their glare.

He grit his teeth and pretended it was a smile.

When you finished your story, Kakashi asked if you wanted anything to eat. Turned out you were just as hungry as he was, and despite his offer to put the order through instead, you leapt--perhaps, some less evolved remnant of his brain thought, a little too eagerly--out of your seat. "Don't worry," you said, patting his shoulder on your way toward the bar, "I already have a tab open."

Kakashi leaned back against his seat, closing his eye and taking a long breath before he peeled it back open and turned to find you and the bartender chatting amicably again.

He knew your vibrant energy attracted lots of people; it always had. It was part of what had attracted him to you, after all. And normally, Kakashi did not have the energy to indulge in feelings of jealousy or being threatened.

But for some reason, the way the bartender leaned into your space, so close Kakashi knew you must be able to taste the same air, he could not quell the possessive irritation curdling like sour milk in his stomach.

When you finally pulled away from your conversation with a friendly wave, the bartender slid their gaze from you to Kakashi.

The smirk they wore was enough for Kakashi to know exactly what he had to do.

As you made your way back to the table, Kakashi stood, blocking your path to your seat--and the path of anyone trying to get to one of the booths lining the front of the restaurant, but he didn't really care about decorum or politeness at the moment.

"Everything okay?" you asked, looking at him with a gentle, understanding smile. "We can gp if it's too crowded."

Leave it to you to think this was about Kakashi's perpetual discomfort in social situations. You were always so kind to everyone around you, it was no wonder the bartender had gotten the wrong idea.

No matter. Kakashi would be sure to set the record straight right now.

In one swift motion, Kakashi pulled his mask down and cupped your cheek with his other hand. You barely got the words, "What are--" before his lips slotted against yours hungrily.

Possessively. Mine, his brain reminded him.

He felt your hesitation melt away in half a moment as you relaxed against him, your lips pulling into a soft smile as you kissed him back, one hand grasping his shirt loosely.

Kakashi had never been a fan of public displays of affection, but the moment called for it and so even when his instincts told him that's enough, knock it off, he plunged forward--deepening the kiss with a push of his tongue that pulled a soft sound of pleasure from the back of your thraot, making his chest flutter.

By the time he pulled away, your lips were kiss-bruised, your breathing shallow. His, too.

He slipped his mask back in place as if nothing had happened. While you gathered yourself, Kakashi shot a look at the bartender, who was pretending very hard not to stare, wiping over the same filthy patch of the wooden bar with a dingy rag, stealing furtive glances at the two of you.

Kakashi smirked. Perfect. He planted one last cloth-covered kiss on your mouth for good measure.

"Do you want to take our order to go?" he asked, "I think I'm ready to head home."

You nodded, still a little obviously dumbstruck by his out of character behaviour. "Y-yeah," you said, "let me just close my tab."

He held up a palm to stop you. "Don't worry," he said, gesturing for you to sit back down, "I'll handle it. Be right back."

The frazzled demeanor of the bartender was nearly as satisfying as the way the taste of your lips lingered on Kakashi's. He licked them beneath his mask, savoring it.

More kisses certainly awaited once he got you home. He could already sense Genma smirking from halfway across the restaurant, ready to tease Kakashi over his extremely public makeout session the enxt time they interacted.

"Here you go," the bartender grumbled, handing Kakashi his takeout order. "Have a good night."

"Oh," he said, smiling knowingly, "I'm certain I will."

Whatever teasing he might have to endure in the future, it would be worth it. You always were.

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

good morning/afternoon/evening, i saw your request open and i was wondering if you'd be up to write some headcanons about risotto & ghiaccio with a gn! s/o who likes to take care of them; whether it's combing/washing their hair, making meals for them, helping them relax after a day of work, etc.

feel free to delete/ignore this request if it's not of your liking. and, thanks in advance (<3).

I actually received another anon request asking for something similar-

- so I'm just gonna lump them all into one big heaping pile of headcanons! Thank you for the requests <333 La Squadra with a house husband/wife who loves to take care of them

Formaggio

Loves it so so so so much

How lucky he is to have an s/o like you, doting on him and putting in so much work for the two of you.

Always goes to you to massage out any aches from the day

Hugs you from behind while you're in the middle of cooking every time. No matter what. It's not a problem at all unless it leads to you getting something on yourself or getting burnt (in that case he'll apologize - then do it again the very next time.)

In return, he tries his best to treat you whenever he can. He buys you sweet lil gifts all the time, leaving them around for you to find while he's out on missions <333333

Illuso

All those pigtails of his? Yeah, they aren't much, but every time he puts his hair into them he considers asking you to do it instead. He never does, but if you find him doing his hair with a dumb smile on his face, that's why.

Need I say this man praises you and your work?

"Smells amazing, doll, whatcha cooking this time?"

"Damn, the room's spotless! You worked real hard, didn't ya?"

gives you a big ol' smorch on the lips....sigh....

Prosciutto

It's the kind of s/o he always pictured himself having, this is just what he expected life to have in store for him.

As a result, he sort of treats the things you do pretty casually. If you didn't know better you'd say he doesn't notice or care.

But of course, you know him better than that. The kiss on your knuckles before every meal and the quick compliments he gives you throughout the day are how he lets you know he loves you and the work you do.

It's the way he intertwines his fingers with yours in the late hours of the night, you two tucked in bed, that lets you know it's all appreciated.

Pesci

Oh Pesci.. oh this boy...

No matter how many times you do all these nice things for him, no matter how much of an everyday thing it is, it makes him feel so incredibly special every single time.

Every sweet thing you do for him has him practically blubbering out "thank you"s and "you're so sweet"s

Oh my GOODNESS. PLAY WITH HIS HAIR. his hairstyle may be strange (all of La Squadra's are), but please please please run your fingers through it, ruffle it around, mess it up a bit, he loves it.

BONUS POINTS if you get a hairbrush and fix up his messy hair afterwards. Oh he's putty in your hands.

Will do anything he can to return the favors, unless you tell him he doesn't have to. augghhh

damn i got passionate about this one

Melone

Remember how I said Formaggio hugs you from behind while you cook? Well, Melone does that too.

But unlike Formaggio he does it while you're doing literally anything. You could be scrubbing the toilet and he's embracing ya and peppering kissing down your neck and. probably distracting you quite a bit.

But also unlike Formaggio, Melone stops when asked, or when it's clear his affection is making it super hard for you to work.

He'd love it for you to braid his hair, and if you have long enough hair, he'll braid your hair too.

If there's ever a day where you aren't doing too hot, sick in bed and he has the day to stay home, he'll be your house husband for the day. A perfect chance for him to give back some kindness ;3

Ghiaccio

It's no surprise that he's coming home with a million things to complain about. So he'll pace around the kitchen and ramble while you make dinner. He's usually irritable at this time, might get picky with how you cut ingredients or how long you cook for.

Still loves everything you make, even if it's not to his exact specifications. Mutters out a "thanks" afterwards and pulls you close to press a looong kiss to your forehead.

Lets you massage the immense amounts of tension out of him. Also wants you to run your fingers through his hair, brushing through his curls and massaging his scalp. For once he stays silent, sighing and leaning into your loving touch.

This man spouts a million words a minute, but he knows he doesn't need to speak to let you know how much he loves you. He just basks in your comfort. Damn, you treat him so well.

Risotto

He loves the caring part of you, he really does, but at the start of your relationship you may need to tell him a few times to stop saying things like "you know, you don't have to do that for me."

Eventually you reach a compromise, and when it comes to cooking and cleaning, you two make it a team effort whenever he's around.

When it comes to helping him relax after work though, he never complains (anymore) about your pampering.

a comforting bath, your hands scrubbing sweet scents through his hair, a moment where he doesn't need to focus on anything except his s/o.

He dreams of having these moments for the rest of his life, holding you close in the eerie silent night and cherishing every second you love him and care for him.

[ask-seb]

Hey you're smart right? Will breakups always hurt this bad? I'm going through my first one and I feel like throwing up and breaking down, I loved him so much and it feels like I wasted three years of my life. He's already been with two other people and I just feel stuck in some other realm and watching the days go by.

i wouldn’t say i’m an expert in this kind of thing, but i understand the feeling of heartbreak. it’s hard to let go of someone who once meant a lot to you. give yourself time to feel what you need to feel. whatever it is you’re feeling, it’s valid. don’t discount that okay?

think about it this way… you’re now equipped with this experience and can carry what you learned from it later on in life. when you look at it like that, you could say that time wasn’t all wasted.

so, i don’t think it’ll always hurt this bad. wounds always hurt the worst when they’re fresh. with some time and growth, it can get easier. be extra nice to yourself and take care, anon. i’m looking out for you.