#i mean it should have been obvious by the fact i kept writing it in smut

[xxcherrycherixx]

I think i actually just need a woman to seductively call me a good girl

Huh

[castiwls]

winner - a.d

Paring; art x coach!reader

Requested; no

Synopsis; art finally won and you both couldn't be happier

Warnings; mentions of cheating (reader and art mentioned to be having an emotional affair)

Notes; i saw challengers today and oh my god I am obsessed!!! i immediately had brain rot and had to write something so here's this! (p.s the reader is like a co-coach idk tbh but she works with him :) )

reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist

The feel of your nails biting into your palm seemed muted as your eyes stayed locked on the small green ball. The world seemed to slow as you watched it soar through the air back and forth. Back and forth.

Your breath seemed to stick in your throat every time the ball soared over the court and back towards Art. You held your breath waiting for the moment he’d miss yet it never came. It was almost like watching a machine, every hit was perfect.

This seemed to go on for a lifetime. The world faded away until suddenly the crowd erupted into a sea of cheers. The sound of Tashi yelling pulled you back to reality and you shot up from your chair on autopilot. Unsure if you should cheer or begin damage control you looked down to the scoreboard, a small gasp leaving your lips.

He’d done it. He’d really won.

A laugh escaped your lips as you felt a rush of relief and excitement rush through you. Art’s eyes found yours from his spot on the court and he grinned up at you. The relief on his face was obvious as he stood taking in the sight before him. It had been so long since he’d walked away from a match feeling this good that he’d forgotten how it felt to win.

How it felt to know that no matter what Tashi scolded him for it wouldn’t take away the fact that he’d won. 

“Art!” Your voice called out from behind him, your joy seeping into your tone. His smile only seemed to widen as he turned to see you walking towards him. Your body screamed at you to move faster, but you forced that need down. As you neared closer he quickly moved to meet you halfway, his arms engulfing you as the cheers continued.

The feeling of his arms squeezing around your waist left butterflies forming in your stomach. His body shook slightly as he pressed his face into your hair. “You won.” Smiling you pulled back slightly, his arms still encircling your waist.

“I won.” He repeated grinning down at you. You nodded another laugh of joy escaping you as he pulled you back in again, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

The feeling of holding you left him even more giddy than the relief of finally winning. His wife seemed like a distant thought as you stood there, both basking in the glory of his win.

You’d always been the one who kept him going. You’d always believed that he could come back from his slump, and you were right. 

Art pulled back briefly looking over to the stands. Tashi had disappeared and he frowned slightly. “Hey.” You touched a hand to his cheek drawing his attention back to you. “She went to go deal with the winnings. She’ll be back.” You assured him.

Art nodded before another grin broke out on his face. “I really did it.” He could hardly believe it himself. Part of him had believed that maybe he’d overstayed his welcome and that he was simply no longer good enough at the thing he’d dedicated his life to.

“I told you!” You laughed moving your hand from his cheek to his shoulder. “And I’m so proud.”

He felt his cheeks heat at the praise as he tipped his chin down. “You don’t have to-”

“I mean it, Art. You deserve this.” 

He looked back up to you after a moment, his eyes locking on yours. He felt himself get lost in your eyes for a moment and he raised a hand to your cheek. You subconsciously leaned into the touch your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

He knew it was wrong. He was married, yet when he looked at you he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. With Tashi the only thing keeping them together was tennis, but you were different.

You didn’t care about how well he played. You only cared about him and it felt so good to finally have someone who didn’t just see him as an extension of themselves and their stolen dreams.

Art had been in love with you for years and standing here now he felt it more then ever.

His thumb brushed against your lip for a moment before he took a deep breath. Drawing you into another hug he enjoyed the feeling of holding you yet again.

“Thank you.” He murmured, his lips brushing your ear causing a shiver to run through you. A slight blush grew on your cheeks at the closeness before you cleared your throat. Shaking your head you looked up at him. “You don’t have to thank me. You did this.”

He shook his head. “No. You never gave up on me. Even when she almost did.” Art dropped his voice leaning down slightly. His eyes darted down to your lips and you felt your breath catch in your throat again.

You knew it was wrong. Having a crush on a married man was bad enough but you knew your relationship with the man had passed the platonic marker months ago. Tashi was well aware of her husband's fondness for you, yet she’d never cared.

She’d openly admitted to you soon after you’d started working with them both that she couldn’t be the person to coddle him when things went wrong. And that was where you came in. 

Starting an emotional affair with the man you were meant to be training was an awful idea. But it felt so right. Art needed someone to fall back on when things went wrong, someone who would hold him and tell him it would be okay.

You’d fallen into the routine with him so effortlessly that it felt natural.

Before you could warn him of the people around you, you felt his lips press against yours. A small noise escaped your lips as one of your hands cupped the back of his head. 

One of his hands drew you closer by the waist while his other cupped your cheek. 

You both knew this was bad. Someone was bound to notice but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

All that mattered was that he’d won.  

[khuzena]

Waiting room

Pairing: Dr ratio, Aventurine, Sunday x g/n!reader

Summary: You can love, get on your knees and wait on a miracle. There are things that are for you and aren't for you, you should know. It's for the better.

Cw. Heavy angst, no comfort, 1% fluff, manipulative men, toxic relationships, insecurities, death?, unrequited love, breakups, them neglecting you cos…, no closure, what is love?

A/n: hi, time to make you cry. I'm getting writer's block as I'm making a new novel!! It has the ‘your guardian angel’ fics plot but w my characters. 🥳

Dr ratio

He's a simple man, really.

Drown yourself in endless textbooks, advanced literature and neglect every other thing.

Like his thirst for knowledge; love is endless, affection is abundant.

Is what you initially thought.

It has been the 4th time this week that he turned down your requests, “Dear, you know I have no time for that.”

He does not try to sugarcoat his words, he does not try to make his tone less harsh, “I don't have time for dates, such a waste of time.'' He says it like it is, he says it like it's true.

Your eyebrows creased, annoyed at his flippant attitude, “What do you mean waste of time?”

Veritas takes one glance at you, then back to his nonsense book. To him, it was useless wasting his breath on arguing with you.

“Veritas, you said we'll go, you promised.”

He is cruel, his words flinty. “I do not recall making any atrocious promises to you, are you perhaps going insane?”

Insane?

“Insane? Last week, you promised me.”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did.”

He scoffs, as if offended, “If I did, then I was not thinking straight. I have a thesis due tomorrow. A date can wait.”

Veritas is a man with priorities and out of all of them, it seems, you were not one of them. He'd rather his books kept him company, not you. It's obvious, his pursuit of knowledge was greater than loving you.

He lit his lamp, taking his pen and highlighting some paragraphs, what was so important with them? You could not help but come closer, skimming through the contents, it was just some theory some genius society member wrote.

“You're miserable,” it might've accidentally slipped out, but it was true; he is, in fact, the most miserable of all men.

Veritas rolled his eyes, pushing his reading glasses and annotating whatever statement was written. The candle light flickered when his heavy breaths fanned over it, not paying mind to whatever you say.

Your patience was thinning, how long was he planning to play this damned game?

“Veritas.”

You call out once.

“Veritas!”

Again, in anger.

“Veritas”

The last time, desperately.

He does not respond, he does not care. Yet your voice was ringing in his ears in an unpleasant way, “Is this about the date?”

You were taken aback by his curt reply, it wasn't just about the date. “Is that all? Do you think that's the only reason?”

“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”

“Cut the bullshit, veritas.”

Veritas glares at you, as if making a statement; a bullshit one at that. He does not have time for mindless topics, he's overworked, he's tired, he's unsatisfied.

For a moment, you have the urge to yell at him. This shallow bastard has done nothing but fool you with aureate words, he writes poetry about you and shows you off.

He loves you because you are all he has. He may be an asshole but he loves you the way he knows how to love you.

Tonight, however, you are done with his bullshit. You do not argue further, he is confused. When you leave this room with no more qualms, when you do not scream at him, he is bewildered.

“Where are you going?” It's strange that he noticed you for the first time. Only when you get dressed up and when he hears the keys jingle, does he notice every single detail.

You adjusted the cuffs of your blouser, “I'm staying at a friend's”

“Which one?”

“None of your business.”

Stunned, he drops his pen. Why are you acting so off? You're driving him insane.

“What do you mean none of my business? Stop acting so childish.”

That was your last straw, childish? Childish? The fucking audacity.

“You are more childish.”

“How so?”

“You— do I even have to explain it?”

Nothing could quell your frustration other than being away from him for the meantime, “Yes,” he loves you, he wants to know. But even if he does, he never learns; so much for a genius.

“You neglect me, you prioritise this,” it was tempting to crumple his papers, “—over me.” So you did.

He is indifferent. He does not understand how and why it hurts you. So he tries to understand it from a logical standpoint, “So you want to really go on that date?”

“I'm tired of asking”

Tired of begging him to treat you right, to love you like you want him to love you.

He stays quiet.

“I'm tired of begging for something so small.”

“You didn't have to destroy my goddamn book,” he seethed and pulled the book from your hands, too absorbed in the damage of the book he does not notice how much he has damaged you. Veritas is too blind to see you holding back tears despite wearing his glasses.

The force surprised you, “Is that thing much more important?”

“What?”

“Answer me Veritas Ratio.”

It was merely just a book, but it was precious. It was a rare one, it annoyed him to immeasurable depths when you crumpled it so recklessly.

He does not answer.

“I'm leaving,” he's not sure if leaving meant temporarily, he hopes it is. He hopes you come back again tomorrow night.

So he waits. Tomorrow came, but you did not come home.

Aventurine

He loves you, he really does.

His idea of love is adorning you with jewels, showering you with riches.

Too much that you suffocate, it hurts. You can't breathe, soulless eyes stare into yours.

It's when you realise, he's trapping you. Does he think you're stupid? What does he take you for?

“Darling! I got you a gift!”

The 22nd one this week… Aventurine makes haste and runs behind you, wearing the necklace on you, it looks… okay.

You look like a doll, his doll.

But you are not a doll, you are human.

And like all humans, we all wish to be loved and cherished as an equal.

“Do you like it?” It would be rude to say no, but it does not fit you. Sure it accentuates your neck, but it's too much.

“I…” you traced your finger over the gem, “I do.”

“Great! I'll get you another tomorrow!” It is tiring. As much as planets worth of gold and extravagant jewels excite you, you would rather be in his presence.

You do not recall the last day he's ever taken you out on a proper date, you do not recall any time where he's been open to you about his past because you know damn well his name could never just be ‘Aventurine’.

You were sitting on the couch, sipping tea with your eyes glued to your book. Before you knew it, soft lips grazed on your cheek.

“You're back earlier than expected,” he smiles as he pressed another kiss onto you, “I ditched the meeting, for you.”

Oh how you hate it when he does things in your name just to make you indebted to him. Aventurine loves you, but love is transactional.

“Is that so?” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “I'll buy you something again, we have another business trip in Penacony.”

It makes you wonder, does he think gifts are the only thing that'll make you stay?

He could see the reluctance in your eyes, “Is something on your mind?”

You bit your lip, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

A deafening silence fills the room before he chuckles, he is everything but stupid. He knows, he knows you want to spend time with him, he knows you’d incinerate those gifts in a heartbeat just to trade even an hour spending time with him.

“Dear, I promise, next time,” he pressed light kisses on your exposed shoulder, but it isn’t enough: what truly is enough?

You want to push him away, with how ruthless he is with making empty promises so easily, “You said ‘next time’ last time.”

”I promise, I do.” Even he sounds unsure. You pick up on the hint of hesitation laced in his promises, he regrets it, but he thinks; he’s doing it for you, for the both of you.

“You said that too last month,” you scoff.

He tried to intertwine your fingers together yet to no avail, you rejected him, “Why are you acting up again?”

There’s only so many gifts can buy but he can never purchase the time lost that could’ve been spent in lazy mornings together yet he traded it all for credits. The second attempt, he forces a smile and even pulls a tiny ring for you, that gem you loved so much engraved in the centre. Words cannot express how much you despise these gifts because it was just a pathetic compensation for the neglect.

”Please, next month.” He took your hand in his and put the ring on your ring finger. “Okay?”

You cling to that possibility, to that sliver of hope when he is done with Penacony, he is relieved of his duties and he is finally free. That he no longer has to overcompensate for his absence and shower you with the time he’s lost.

You know next month won’t come, yet you are no different from a fool.

”Okay”

You wait upon endless tomorrows, two months have passed and none of his coworkers have any good news about his well-being. They’re sure he’s dead, but you still wait for that tomorrow where he is home to come.

Sunday

Love, what truly is love?

Is it when you praise your lover with endless ‘I love you’s?

Is it when you hold their hand and protect them for the impending doom to come?

or rather, is love just a fallacy built on a string of lies?

Sunday believes that he knows what’s best for you.

Before Sunday, you were allowed to make your own decisions.

Before Sunday, you actually had freedom.

The halovian swears he knows what’s best for you.

He makes sure everything you want or need, you get.

Sunday will kiss your tears away, even if he is the sole reason for them. ”It’s for your own good.” he says.

To strip you of freedom, to shackle you to him like a bird in a cage. His sweet kisses, his love, his everything; they’re all fucking poison. He does not hesitate to drown you in his poison if it means protecting you.

You cry out, “Sunday.” In desperate pleas.

But he will not listen, he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear anything.

He believes that if he gives you the taste of freedom, you’ll find a way to fly away from his grasp– he will not allow it. So he does what he’s best at, keeping you stuck to him.

”What do you want, dear?” He smiles at you like he’s never sinned.

You throw away the pathetic gifts he adorned you with, gold, diamonds and stones you could not name but they are not what you want, “I want to see my friends.”

”They’re no good, trust me.” Your friends once told you that you should go, that he’s toxic, but you were a fool to drown in him.

“What do you know about my friends?” He’s done everything to kill that flame inside of you, that hope that maybe one day you’d escape him and be free once again, you’re a fool, he thinks.

He clicks his tongue as he puts down his newspaper at the coffee table, ”They tried to take you away from me.”

”They did not, you know I would never leave you.” A blatant lie but it's stupid that you take him for a fool that’ll believe your words.

He only chuckles, your attempts to get away from him are futile, it’s pathetic it makes him laugh. “I admire your confidence, but you’re staying here tonight.”

Death has never been more alluring under his influence, but you can not die.

“Please,” you beg again, but he only presses his finger to your lips, “Shh…”

”One day you’ll thank me for taking such good care of you.” He gets down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, “You’re safe here.”

He gets up to sit right next to you, he doesn’t flinch when you slap his face away when he tries to kiss you. The man only grabs your wrist when you try to push him away again. He kisses you with passion, in love but is it truly love when there is no trust?

There’s no use questioning his intentions, “This is for your own good.”

What good is there when there is no freedom? He thinks beautiful birds should be protected. Even if it meant being trapped in a cage, stripped of any sense of freedom, as long as you're safe, as long as you're here with him, he is content. "Dont give me that look."

Your eyes train on the way he rolls his eyes at your defiance, "Just let me go."

Sunday glares at you, his grip on your wrist tight, you're sure he's about to tear it off. "No."

When will you stop acting like a child?

The halovian is too far down the rabbit hole of self righteousness and his obsession with you that he if he needs to tear you limb by limb to keep you close to him, to keep you from rubbing away, he will do it.

His phone rings, it must be business calls again, Penacony sure is in a state of chaos when it's crumbling down. He lets go off you to take his phone.

"Yes yes... Sunday speaking."

You dont understand what they're murmuring about. All you could register is it's something about his sister.

His facial expression turned grim the more time he spent on the phone. The phone call ends and he puts it down, the life from his face drained but when he sees you, he is relieved.

You are still here with him.

He intertwined your hands together, you can feel anger and despair that he's exuding as he stares at you like a deer in the headlights. "Please, promise me."

"You'll never leave me too."

It doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a statement.

You'll truly never know what freedom is, for that is only a privilege that you can never have. In his arms you cannot cry, because he'll drown you in his lies again and again.

On the bright side, you are never alone. You will always have Sunday, whether you like it or not.

Note: bye i got extreme writer's block at Sunday's part I had to take almost a 2 week break bc i rlly have no idea what to write for him oh my god. I absolutely did not give them justice 😥

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[seishiroh]

— i dreamt you loved me / nagi seishiro x reader.

— light angst. college!au. friends w/ benefits; mentions of sex & suggestive scenes. pining & kind of idiots in love.

— note: surely, i write the next part.

nagi seishiro looks beautiful.

it's silly to think, really. when you met nagi in your first year of college, you thought you'd hate him.

he'd been arrogant. he'd sleep through lectures while you'd take down notes, yet when the exam results came, it's his name above yours. to this day, you're not sure if it was an unfortunate thing that you'd been long term friends with isagi. because then, perhaps he wouldn't have persuaded you to help tutor their study group for the rest of the semester.

a study group where you meet bachira, reo, and (with isagi's head on your hit list) nagi seishiro—who, despite being top of that class, refused to be of any help to his own friends.

(when you came, though, he'd finally start muttering how to answer the questions. most of his attention on his game console and when you're not looking, trained on your face—as if he'd been trying to figure you out. as if he wants you to recognize that he's there.)

what you'd thought you'd deal with for only a semester, turns out to become your group of friends.

nagi, who you'd thought you'd hate, turned to become your crush.

you suppose your first mistake was thinking it was nothing; it's a crush, it doesn't really mean anything other than you're attracted to him. that's what you kept telling yourself until it's six months later and you're starting to feel suffocated by the terrible fact that you'd genuinely started to like nagi—more than a friend should.

as all things come and go, you think the same of the skipping of your heartbeat when nagi is around.

if you're honest, you're not even quite sure what prompted your feelings. sometimes, you think he's just so effortlessly impressive when you get to know him that it becomes difficult to look past it. sometimes, you think it's the comfort in what seems like intimate skinship between the both of you—his unashamed way of reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear no matter who was looking, your arm around his bicep when you're walking together, his head on your lap when you're studying and he couldn't be bothered to do the same.

instead of fading, your feelings grew like a well-loved flower blooming in the spring.

nagi seishiro looks beautiful.

especially when he's draping his body over yours on the couch the moment he comes through the door of your apartment; but you have company and you don't miss the way isagi and bachira share a look, quick to make a comment.

"huh? nagicchi, are you finally dating y/n?"

"...eh?" he groans before sluggishly sitting up, not really even sparing anyone a glance as he reaches for his phone. "no, why would i do that?"

isagi is quick to meet your eye, because he knows, because it's so obvious.

you clear your throat, picking up your pen. still, your voice cracks, "y-yeah, why would we—that's—"

you're grasping at nothing as the sound of nagi's game filters in. it's still bachira who speaks up, a finger held up to his face, "why wouldn't you, though? y/n's cool and you like her, right? nagicchi?"

you feel your heart dropping to your stomach.

nagi hums, quick to respond this time. "yeah but i don't really want a relationship. working hard for something like that… sounds so tiring."

you're not sure where to pay attention to. the yeah or everything else after that? yeah, you're cool or yeah, he liked you in the way you've always wanted him to? but nagi doesn't really allow you to think further. after all, he's shutting down any chances you have before you even knew there was any.

you must be insane, then.

when they leave and nagi stays, all you're left with is tension. it's unfortunate because nagi gets clingier when it's just the two of you, shuffling once in a while to lean on your shoulder.

you think you're fine, but you seem to forget just how perceptive nagi could get. he sighs, drawn out, and you could only squeak in surprise when he brings his hand to your face, tilting you to look back at him. eyebrows furrowed, frowning as he stares at you, reading you perfectly, "why're you so tense?"

"i'm not—"

"you like me, right?" it's not a question at all when he says it out loud. your answering nod is simply an accessory. 

you can feel the back and forth brush of his thumb on your cheek and his hand snaking to your waist, pulling you closer, "and you'd let me kiss you?"

you level his stare, trying to get something. anything.

"only if you like me too, sei…"

your breath is hot and your heart is on the line, nagi brushes his lips against yours, then presses, and finds all the ways to make you whimper with his familiar touch.

there's no answer.

not even in the morning after.

nagi seishiro looks beautiful. 

lying on his stomach, the duvet shrugged just halfway his torso, and a few pink scratches across his back.

but you should get up.

truthfully, though, your legs ache and nagi's bed is comfortable. were you given a choice, you'd stay here instead of getting ready for your class. then, you'd revel in the comfort of nagi's arm slung around your waist and the heat of his bare body pressed against yours ever so slightly.

except you shouldn't. it's not like he's your boyfriend. in fact, you shouldn't even have stayed the night.

it's a rule you've given yourself a few months after your rendezvous with nagi started. you can't let yourself stay after sex, not with the feelings that have been brewing over you until now.

you get up, go to class, then you promise yourself you'd stop caving in the next time nagi is pulling you back to bed—voice lazy, raspy, and so, so persuasive.

"aren't you tired?" he'd murmur against his pillow, his hand wrapped around your wrist willing you to stay.

of course you are, but you think you'd rather brave it than stay with him in bed like couples do; yearning to hear him say something unlike himself, like how he wishes you'd be his girlfriend.

but he doesn't and you're not.

in the end, you still find yourself beneath his sheets and when he's asking you to stay again—like you're not just a friend he fucks, you start to wonder if he's changed his mind yet.

"it's bothersome, y/n. you should just bring a bag so you don't have to leave after." he turns while you're sitting up on his bed. "just let some of your stuff stay here," he tells you carelessly.

"i'm not your girlfriend, sei."

"i'm not asking you to be, though, just—"

the breath you take is sharp, cutting him off, "that's the problem. you can't just say those things, sei."

"you're getting worked up over nothing, y/n. i don't see the big deal," he replies. 

so turn to him, frustrated, "the big deal is that i'm in love with you, you dumbass!"

it feels silly when you finally say it, but you feel stuck. in your feelings, in what he so selfishly wants, in what you're always so willing to give him.

a beat passes and still, all you get is his silence. you scoff, pushing away the sheets, "you know, for someone so smart, you're so awfully dense, nagi."

it's the last thing you tell him before you're gathering your things and walking out the door.

finally, he doesn't do anything to stop you. you should be relieved, but all you get is heartache.

being in the same circle, it doesn't take long for you to figure out that nagi has been avoiding you. in the lecture hall, instead of sitting next to you like he usually does, careless that he's late—nagi starts sitting across the room, far away from you.

you understand you might've sounded so mad before, when you blurted out how you were in love with him. it makes you wince in embarrassment now that you think of it but what's done is done. so you think maybe that's why he's avoiding you, aside from your feelings he clearly had no interest in.

isagi, bachira, and reo must know by now too. if the way they avoid mentioning nagi to you or covering up about how nagi can't make it to hang out with you guys is any indication.

this is what makes you take the defeat. nagi only had them, after all.

before you. 

you start telling them you won't make it and start hanging out with other people. one of them, yukimiya kenyu.

you have most of your classes with him and lately, he's been taking the spot next to you where nagi used to be. he's sweet, nice—he's charming in an effortless way.

and he's waiting by the door outside your lecture hall after class. it's the only one you have without him, it's the one he's been waiting by, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

you can feel your cheeks heating up because everyone else is filtering out the door when he pulls you to the side.

"hey," he greets you with a beautiful smile.

"hey, what are you doing here?" your voice is small, unconsciously shy.

"i just wanted to hand you these, and ask if you're free after this," he seems almost sheepish, the way he holds the bouquet out to you, no matter how confident you know he is.

your breath hitches. the flowers are beautiful, in your favorite colors, as if he's letting you know he's been paying attention to you.

you want to agree, but it's a different voice that replies to him before you could.

"c'mon, y/n. isagi said they're at the cafe," nagi says loud enough for yukimiya to hear, his hand reaching out to clasp with yours.

it takes you by surprise, enough to dodge him completely. it's been weeks since he last spoke to you, not even in this class where you only knew each other.

yukimiya is there to watch it, the way you react to nagi seishiro and the way nagi is looking at you like he wants to take you away. he thinks you probably don't see it. he likes you, as a friend and more than that, and he wonders if—as a good friend—he should tell you that nagi looks at you like he loves you.

you stammer, looking for the words to say before shaking your head. "just tell them i can't make it today, nagi."

"you haven't come to hang out with us for a while though," nagi's answer is quick, sounding defiant.

you glance at yukimiya, wrapping your arm around his, hoping he won't walk out on you because of how awkward this is.

"i can just come next time, nagi," you force a smile. "but yeah, yukki and i should get going."

luckily, yukimiya plays along, humming in thought and mentioning the drive you'll have to take. it's enough for you to be able to bid nagi goodbye.

nagi watches you walk away, your hand reaching out to hold the bouquet. he can hear your soft voice thanking yukimiya for the flowers, slowly getting farther and farther away from him. 

and as if the world was there to mock him, a single, small flower from your bouquet slips and flows with the wind.

landing in front of him.

he doesn't know why, but he reaches to take it, bringing it home with him.

[sc0tters]

Different Type of Workout | Nolan Moyle

summary: you get tasked with helping Nolan release some anger, but things take a turn and it’s released in ways that Coach Naurato probably didn’t intend.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v, sex in semi public place, oral (male receiving!)

word count: 2.4k

authors note: honestly I’ve been waiting to write for Nolan since this account as been created, and with us reaching 400 followers it felt right to write for him. Also what better way to start Super Smut Thursdays than with a bit of enemies to lovers (or should I say fuckers).

He had always been a pain in your ass.

Way back in freshman year when you joined the team as an assistant trainer he seemed to have it out for you. If there was a snarky comment he made it, if there was a chance to make your day turn miserable he did it, any chance he had to remind you of how much he disliked you he took it.

As a result the two of you were often paired up for things then, but coach Nauratos efforts never succeeded yet that didn’t mean he stopped trying.

Nolan had gone through a string of games where he was letting his aggression get the best of him thus allowing the ingenious idea of getting you in the boxing ring in the gym with him.

The boy wasn’t impressed with the idea as he kept on repeating the fact that he “doesn’t hit women,” which honestly surprised you. Everyone thought that he’d be jumping at the opportunity to get in a ring with you.

Even when you held the punching gloves up you could still see how hesitant he was “you’re not gonna hurt me,” you reminded him as you motioned to the two targets that he was meant to aim at.

It was the way he rolled his eyes that made you laugh “how do you know that I don’t want to hurt you?” Nolan mentally cursed himself the second the question left his lips because of how it made you smile “because you don’t have it in you.” You explained as deep down you knew you were perfectly capable in the ring if Nolan did indeed decide to get cocky.

He sent you his unimpressed look as he threw the first punch “c’mon captain,” you motioned to him to use a bit more power. What you didn’t realise was the way his shorts began to grow tight at what you called him.

No Nolan didn’t have a captain kink but the way it rolled off of your tongue seriously made him wonder if he’s missed out on a lost opportunity.

When he didn’t throw another punch you grew irritated “Jesus Christ Nolan!” You scoffed as you took the gloves off to replace them with actual boxing gloves.

His eyes went wide “what are you doing?” He asked as he watched you walk back over with the gloves under your arm.

You sent him a glare “trying to figure out what you need me to do in order for you to actually punch me!” Your raised voice took him a step back as he grew even more surprised “I’m not gonna punch you.” His mom had taught him better. You began to wish that he would stop trying to act like the good guy for a moment and just listen to you “do I need to punch you then?” You blurted out as your crossed your arms.

Nolan scoffed as he began to take his gloves off “this is stupid,” he announced as he shook his head and turned around to make his way out from the ring.

Luckily for you there was a trick your dad had taught you in the ring as a child, you hadn’t done it in years but you couldn’t think about that as you had to act quickly.

It was a sigh of relief moment when the ankle kick worked and you brought him to the ground. Nolan rolled over onto his back as he sent you a glare “what the fuck was that for?” He asked as you hovered over him.

The grin on your lips was obvious “just reminding you who is in charge here,” you explained as you held your hand out to help him up.

But what you didn’t expect was that he’d take your hand and pull you down onto him.

With a bit of surprise you looked down from his eyes to his lips causing him to smirk “is little y/n enjoying this?” He cooed as his thumb drew circles over your legging covered thighs. Nolan had to admit that he’s been beneath worse views before.

Just like always he had to ruin the moment “was gonna suggest a different kind of workout to get rid of that anger but clearly you’re not interested.” Your voice was serious and as you got up the boy realised that he had screwed up.

It took him seconds to pull you back as he leaned forward to capture your lips in a kiss. The yelp of surprise that left your lips let him swipe his tongue over your lower lip and occasionally into your mouth. The boy groaned as you began to grind your ass over his shorts “didn’t think you’d be this desperate,” Nolan tsked his tongue as he pulled away from you “I know what I want,” you shot back as your lips formed a pout when you batted your eyelashes at him.

Nolan swore he was dreaming at the sight of you “take it then,” he wasn’t a sub by any means but he was honestly feeling really turned on still by the fact that you had got him to the floor.

You contemplated remaining on the line of professionalism but as you got up and offered your hand to the boy you realised that he wanted this just as much as you did.

And that’s how you two make your way to the girls locker room “I’m not going in there,” Nolan shook his head as he watched you wrap your hand around the door handle. You pursed your lips into a thin line “got any better ideas?” You shot back as the girls didn’t have practice right now so it would have meant that the locker room would be empty.

The boys eyes trailed to his own locker room “practice ends in fifteen minutes,” you warned looking down at your watch.

Your comment made Nolan laugh “I could make you come in five,” he pointed out with a smirk as you squeezed his hand telling him to lead the way.

You had been in the locker room plenty of times before but you had never seen it this quiet “I’m not fucking you in your locker!” You scoffed as you watched him dig through his duffel bag.

Nolan let out a laugh as he looked at you “just grabbing a condom princess,” the nickname made you roll your eyes as you made your way to the stalls “in here,” you motioned as you held the door open for the team captain.

He smirked as you reached behind him to lock the door “don’t want an audience?” The boy teased as he ran his fingers along the collar of your shirt.

The boys ability to get under your skin was uncanny as you let him stay there “just didn’t think you’d want your teammates to see how poorly you fuck a girl.” You pursed your lips into a thin line as there was an amused gleam in your eyes.

You were enjoying this.

A dry laugh left the boys lips as it bounced off of the walls “that mouth is going to get you in so much trouble.” Nolan warned as his thumb ran over your lower lip.

It should have been scary how easily you kept your cool “maybe it’s about time you did something about it then,” you shot back as you ran your fingers through his hair making sure that you tugged on the ends of it.

He actually smiled as he got an idea “on your knees,” Nolan tapped your shoulder as you lowered yourself onto the floor.

Watching him untie the strings on his shorts made your mouth water as it gave you a view of his bulge “now let’s see what that mouth of yours can actually do,” he proposed as he hooked his fingers in the waist band of his boxers as he pulled them down letting them fall to his ankles.

You looked up at him with a nod as you kissed the tip of his cock “don’t tease me now princess,” he warned when he saw you try to kitten lick his length.

If you weren’t horny or on the bathroom floor you would have laughed at his request, but instead you decided to listen letting your tongue swirl around his cock. His hand locked itself around your hair that was held up by your hair tie.

The groans that fell from his lips made you clench your thighs “keep sucking me so good,” Nolan pleaded as he let his head fall back.

You wrapped your hands around his thighs letting yourself push forward as you gagged around his cock. The muffled noise of you gargling as it hit the back of your throat echoed off of the walls of the empty locker room.

Just as Nolan began to feel himself let go the door to the locker room opened “how come Nolan gets to work with her,” Ethan complained as he walked in with someone else.

The mystery person laughed “that’s just because you think she’s hot,” Mark pointed out as he slapped the younger boys shoulder.

Nolan’s hand tensed around your hair as he felt like he was going to let out a moan. The look he sent you was full of warning like he was trying to tell you to behave.

Unfortunately for him that wasn’t what you had in mind as you sloshed your tongue from side to side eliciting a groan from the older boy “you hear that?” Mark asked as they were about to leave.

You slowly moved your mouth as you let the boy just thrust his cock again. It was clear that Nolan was holding in a moan “you’re probably just hearing things,” Ethan shrugged before he let the door shut behind him.

Before you could smile Nolan pulled you back onto your feet “you think that was funny?” He cocked his head as he watched you run your thumb over your lip “been told I can be hilarious,” you confessed as you leaned forward to kiss him but quickly turned your lips into a pout when he leaned backwards.

Nolan let out a laugh “maybe I just need to fuck a bit of sense into you.” He pointed out as he fiddled with the end of your shirt.

You nodded “hope that wasn’t another empty threat,” you shot back as your tongue darted between your lips.

It seemed like a switch was hit in his mind “get that off,” he mumbled as he motioned to your leggings “Nol-” your voice was soft as you were taken aback by the forcefulness of his voice.

The boy placed his hand next to you “take it off before I rip those,” Nolan warned as you listened to him “you rip these and I’ll kill you,” you shot back as you revealed your blue lacy thong.

Nolan groaned as he watched you pull your shirt off too “something tells me you knew you were gonna get fucked today.” He smirked as he leaned down to kiss your collar bone.

You smiled as you giggled “thought I would have already been fucked by now,” you confessed “seven minutes captain.” You added as you looked at your watch.

His hands went back to his cock so that he could roll the condom over it “only need five,” Nolan mumbled as he ran his cock against your clit before he pushed it into your core “god,” you groaned as you dug your nails into his arm as you readjusted to his size.

It made him laugh “just me princess,” he picked your legs up as they wrapped around his waist.

You almost screamed at the new angle that he was hitting you at “fuck you,” you let your eyes turn to a squint as you sent him a glare.

Your back continued to hit against the wall as the hockey player smiled “that’s what you’re doing,” his joke drew a scoff from your lips.

His hand trailed in between the two of you as he pulled your bra down “want to hear you scream,” he murmured as he began to nip at your neck.

Moans echoed through the the room as it was mixed with the sound of skin slapping together “Nol,” you pleaded as you groaned “keep fucking me,” you begged as you felt his hand move down to your clit.

The sensations made you shut your eyes “who’s making you feel this good?” Nolan asked as he mumbled into the shell of your ear sending chills down your spine.

It made you feel light headed “you,” you whispered as causing the boy to click his tongue “who?” He was clearly wanted you to say it louder.

As you remained silent as you couldn’t form a coherent sentence “I asked you a question princess,” Nolan reminded you as he began to slow down.

Your eyes snapped opened “don’t stop fucking me now captain.” His title rolled off of your tongue like honey as you sent him a content smile as his thrusts began to pick up in speed again.

You didn’t know if it was the new angle that you were experiencing or the pace and the sensations of his thumb on your clit but you were quickly approaching your high “I’m gonna come,” you announced letting the word squeak out of your mouth.

Nolan smiled as he shook his head “hold it,” he knew that he was just behind you but he needed a bit more.

Moans were practically acting like music as you clenched around him “I can’t,” you didn’t think you would last another second.

The boy hooked his one hand under your chin as he kissed you “let go.” The moment he gave you the green light you came almost that instant with the hockey player quick on your tail as the boys own orgasm was spurred on as you clenched around him multiple times in a short burst of time as your core began to throb.

Your breath was shaky as your head fell onto his shoulder “wow,” you huffed causing the boy to laugh.

Before Nolan could respond though the door to the locker room swung open “I wonder if Nolan is winning?” Luca asked as he walked in with the other freshmen “definitely winning princess.” Nolan whispered as he kissed your earlobe.

Definitely winning.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

It's weird to expect lb to be able to read cn mind and called her a bad partner for it. But it's even weirder for lb to ignore cn WHEN HES OBVIOUSLY IN DISTRESS and not called her a bad partner for it because I think called her a bad partner for ignoring it is understandable and justified especially since she consider herself as his boss.

Every time I bring up this conflict, I try to make it clear that I don't think Ladybug was blameless, I just think Chat Noir's writing was worse. Let's walk through the problem to show what I mean.

Season four stars with Marinette extremely stressed by her new Guardian status. In Truth and Lies, the first episodes of the season, we get this:

Ladybug: Will you cut it out with the practical jokes? I could have really hurt you! Cat Noir:(answering while hanging by the yo-yo) M'lady, the only thing that really hurts me is when you make me go on patrol by myself. (sighs, relaxing his posture) I even missed your little angry pout. Ladybug: Sorry, Kitty Cat, I'm a bit over my head at the moment. (pulling him up) Cat Noir: I bet! "Guardian of the Miraculous", big name, big responsibility!

This is also the start to Chat Noir communicating poorly. In this episode, he's straight up told that Ladybug is in over her head and he never once asks how he can help. In fact, we even get him saying this when asked how he feels about the change:

Truth: Cat Noir, tell me what- (interupted by Ladybug throwing a present at Truth) Ladybug: (covering her parasol with foil) ...do you think about my new role as guardian! Cat Noir: If it doesn't change things between us, then I'm good with it!

So not a great start to the season. I know people focused on Adrien's terrible treatment of Kagami in these episodes, but this Ladynoir dynamic was actually what rang alarm bells for me. I kept waiting for Chat Noir to offer his support since it was really, really obvious that Ladybug was in over her head since she was late to patrols, the last season literally ended with her losing her mentor figure, and, you know, she straight up told him that was what was going on?

The next episode is Gang of Secrets in which we see Marinette out her identity to Alya. I get why she did this, she needed support and her partner doesn't seem interested in giving it, but she can't say that for certain because she never asked him directly and she should have. Trusting Chat Noir over Alya would have allowed Ladynette to maintain the security of her secret identity - a thing she claimed was more important than ever - and to honor their partnership. At the very least, she should have told Chat Noir that Rena Rouge was now a full time holder so that he could account for that in battle and to minimize the fallout by owning up to her mistake asap. The longer a lie goes on, the worse the truth will hurt.

To Ladybug's credit, she does eventually acknowledge her mistake after the Scarabella incident:

Ladybug: You... must've been pretty surprised to discover there was another holder! (Silence. She sits beside Cat Noir.) Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings.

This is a decent apology. She doesn't try to absolve herself of wrong doing. Instead, she acknowledges that what she did would hurt her, too, if the shoe were on the other foot. The only thing she loses points on is the fact that she doesn't tell him about Rena Furtive.

However, instead of agreeing with her and telling her that she has hurt him, Chat Noir says that she did nothing wrong and never once brings up how their weakened partnership is bothering him:

Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right. Paris will always need a Ladybug superhero to watch over her. It's just... I realized that if one day that hero wasn't you, m'lady, since we don't know each other's identities, that means... I'd never see you again. Ever. And now, I just don't know if I can bear it.

This is the thing that I hate about this arc. The reason why I say Ladybug is blamed for not reading his mind. Especially because, three episodes later, we get Rocketear, which gives us this:

Cat Noir: Everyone has doubts now and then, (looks down) even me... Ladybug: Is everything okay, Cat Noir? Cat Noir: Yeah, yeah. (prepare his fist) Pound it! Ladybug: (fistbumps) Pound it!

Rocketear is the episode where Nino outs that he and Alya know each other's identities while acting like Ladybug said identities weren't a big deal even though that is very much not what happened. You'd think that Chat Noir would want to know the full story, but instead he just lies and says that everything is fine.

So we have two situations where the show allowed Ladybug to give Chat Noir a chance for clear and open communication and both times he turns her down.

What's worse is that he clearly starts making up stories in his head, leading to Kuro Neko, which starts with Adrien avoiding a fight on purpose as some sort of shit test. He then gets upset when Ladybug... doesn't lament his absence on national TV?

Clara: (from TV) By the way, where's Cat Noir? You've saved Paris without him quite a few times recently. Are you two at odds with each other? Carapace, Pegasus, Vesperia and Pigella: (from TV) Pound it! Ladybug: (from TV) Of course not, it's just that... umm, he's a partner like any other! The most important is to pick the best superheroes for each mission, with or without Cat Noir. No matter what, we've got a great team and we'll always be here to save Paris. (Adrien is shocked.) Adrien: (turns off the TV and sighs) "A partner like any other..."

Dude, what did you want her to do here? Complain that you flaked on her? Make Paris feel less safe by saying she doesn't know where you are? Imply that the fight was barely won without you? What are you doing? Plagg, you are completely failing as a mentor right now.

The shit test continues as Chat Noir goes to meet up with Ladybug now that the battle is over, arriving just as Ladybug has finished instructing the team on what to do:

Ladybug: Come on, guys! Hurry up before you all detransform. I'll meet you at rendezvous points. (The heroes jump away in different directions, and Ladybug starts typing something on her Yo-yo.) Cat Noir: Hey! Meow are you, m'lady? Ladybug: Great, thanks, but I gotta go retrieve all these Miraculous. Cat Noir: I could lend you a paw to help save time. Ladybug: Thanks, kitty cat, but it's a guardian's job to do it. Cat Noir: I know who some of them are, remember? I was there when you first gave them their Miraculous! Ladybug: You don't even know where their rendezvous points are, I don't have time to— Cat Noir: Playing cat and mouse is my forte, you know— Ladybug: (yelling) If you wanna save me time, stop wasting it in the first place! (Cat Noir gasps. As Ladybug swings away, Cat Noir clenches his fist.) Cat Noir: And take my Miraculous back when you're done!

So Ladybug doesn't publicly chastise Chat Noir for missing the battle and rejects an offer to help because of very legitimate timing concerns, leading to Chat Noir quitting because she failed his stupid, petty, childish tests. Realistic writing? Yes. Writing that paints Ladybug as the one in the wrong? No.

Going into this episode, Ladybug has no idea that things are messed up between them even though she has actually kept communication lines open. She asks him if things are okay, but he lies. And when he's ready to quit? He plays stupid games and wins a stupid prize. It's really not shocking that the next scene sees Ladybug totally baffled by what just happened:

Plagg: For a while now, you've been neglecting this camembert— I mean Cat Noir, and going on adventures with the all other cheeses! Ladybug: But he should be happy about it, it gives him more time off. Plagg: Cat Noir doesn't wanna have time off, Ladybug! He is in love with you! And your persistent calling on all the other heroes has broken his heart.

And how is she supposed to know that, Plagg? Was she supposed to assume that her partner was lying when he said he was fine? Because she did ask and he said that nothing was wrong. But something was wrong and it lead him to build up a story in his head, reading nonexistent intent into her actions, all of which is toxic and unhealthy communication.

I cannot stress how common this shit is. I've seen it so many times and I will own that I've done it in the past and wound up getting no support when I needed it because I'd directly told people I didn't and they committed the heinous crime of... believing me.

Here's the other thing, there are times when I'm in distress and legitimately don't want or need help. Times when I just need to be alone for a bit. So if someone asks me if I'm okay during those times, I'm probably just going to say, "Yeah, I just need a people break" or something like that. That's why the Scarabella scene is so bad. Ladybug can see that Chat Noir is in distress and he gives her a fully plausible answer: I'm not upset with you, I'm just saddened by the idea of losing you. And she believes him because why wouldn't she?

Same goes for Rocketear. It's reasonable for Ladybug to assume that Chat Noir is just shaken by the fight. She has no idea about the bombshell that Nino dropped right before the fight. She doesn't even know that Nino and Chat Noir are actually close friends, making this fight a lot more devastating than it looks at face value. Her actions here are not objectively wrong. They're only wrong if you know the whole story, including Adrien's needs. Things that she cannot know unless Chat Noir uses his words to tell her things.

I cannot over stress how much season four is a textbook example of denying yourself support because you cannot communicate your own needs. Is it an understandable character flaw for a character with Adrien's background to have? Yes. Absolutely. 100%. But it's still a character flaw. This season desperately needed an arc about Adrien learning to tell people what's wrong. Not because he's the only one in the wrong here, but because things cannot get better when Ladybug has no idea that she's hurting him. (Nino has no idea either, but let's keep our focus on Ladybug.)

One of the most important things you can do for your own mental well being is to dismiss the idea that your needs are the same as everyone else's. Everyone needs different amounts of attention and values different behavior based on things like their upbringing and life events.

I get the feeling that I'm wired pretty similar to Marinette. At least, it influences how I write her because I can go months without talking to my best friends and still call them my best friends, a trait we all share because two of use are artsy introverts and two of us are moms to young kids, which allows for very little free time. Meanwhile, my SO and his best friend spend hours on the phone almost every week. I swear that those two go into withdrawal if they don't talk at least once every seven days. If months went by without them talking? Something would be very wrong, but the exact same time gap isn't even remotely concerning when it comes to my friends. It's something my SO and I had to figure out when we got together because I need a lot less attention than he does. But we communicated and found a balance that we continue to work to communicate about so that he doesn't feel neglected and I don't feel overwhelmed by too little me time.

What I'm trying to say is Marinette wasn't horribly wrong for assuming that Chat Noir was telling her the truth or that he liked having a larger team so he had less responsibility. Those are reasonable assumptions. Especially since he never actually indicated that he wanted more responsibility until he was ready to quit and decided to shit test her by pushing for more to do when she was stressed and on a timer.

I do think that she should have offered it to him before that or - at the very least - the show should have clearly stated why she didn't do that since it apparently had nothing to do with Chat Blanc trauma like we all thought it did. I'm not saying that she's blameless or perfect or that there weren't things she could have done better. It's just really hard for me to look at Chat Noir's behavior in season four and go, "Oh yeah, he's the injured party here. Ladybug holds all the blame and did everything wrong." She did many things wrong, but generally speaking, she owned her faults and tried to keep communication channels open. Chat Noir chose to ignore those chances to talk or otherwise try to express his needs in a clear and understandable manner.

We'll end with one final point to drive this home: You said that she's his boss. Well, if my boss asked me, "is everything okay with the project?" and I said, "yes" while freaking out about the upcoming deadline that I'm probably going to miss because he's given me too much work, the issue is not all on my boss. It's on both of us. Him for overloading me and me for not telling him I'm overloaded. You could even argue that it's mostly on me because I'm the only one who can properly gauge my own ability to do a given workload. As soon as it was too much, I should have said something. And if I don't feel like my boss is approachable? Then I should quit. But that isn't the situation I'm in and it doesn't appear to be the one that Chat Noir was in, either. He wanted to stay part of the team, he just totally failed to tell Ladybug how being on the team was making him feel.

People magically knowing what you need and how you feel is a myth. I promise you, most people in this world do not want to cause you pain, but if you cannot clearly express when someone is causing you pain, then you will continue to get hurt by people who would be very happy to not hurt you if they actually knew that their actions were causing you pain.

[cenorii]

RE headcanons again!

PART 2

This time I will add what animals I associate them with. Again I'll write a lot about some and just a little about others to supplement the last part.

Sherry Birkin

— It's hard to say what her favorite color is. She probably doesn't prefer any particular color, she likes dim palettes.

— I'm inclined to think that Sherry could have been Wesker's goddaughter. Birkins could have introduced him to her, and since Wesker has known William since childhood, he trusts him.

— She obviously attended NEST because Annette gave her a G-related pendant. Sherry probably had some instructions for emergency situations in which to use it, but kept it a secret. Chief Irons knew about the secret of the pendant, probably from William himself, because he was bribing Irons. And Wesker also knew about the pendant, it's in his first report.

— I recently rewatched all the clips of Sherry in re6 and noticed how reluctant she is to talk about Wesker every time the topic comes up. She never says anything bad about him, avoiding talking about him. I think that as a child, Wesker treated her well or seemed like a good person, but when she found out who he really was, she was deeply disappointed. She cherishes fond memories of this man, but keeps it a secret, because she will surely be convicted.

— Sherry calls Jake "Jake Wesker" instead of "Muller," even though she knows Wesker had nothing to do with his upbringing. Did she downplay the significance of Jake's mom? No, I would look at it this way. This is further proof that "Wesker" is not a negative word to her. She secretly treats him better than others treat him, so she called Jake by his last name with pride.

— In that moment when the runaway Jake and Sherry were changing clothes, they had a conflict. But I think Sherry was angry not only because Jake's words hurt the memory of her father, but also because they hurt the memory of Jake's father.

— Sherry was in government custody from 1998 to 2009. She was in custody mainly because of Wesker (file "A Deal with the United States" from re6). The government believed that Wesker needed a sample of the G-virus, but it was obvious that he had already gotten it through his own means. Perhaps this is a hint that there is some sort of connection between them after all. He could be her godfather who would want to return what was connected to him, or he wants to using her as research into how viruses are able to enter into symbiosis with humans. Sherry mattered to him in some way, and everyone knew it, including Sherry herself.

— I think she's in love with Jake, but because of little contact with other people and the outside world, is too shy to admit it.

— She has a deep respect for Chris and Claire, and considers the latter as close as if she were her second mother.

— The animal in which I see Sherry is a weasel.

Chris Redfield

— I think his eyes are gray. Gray eyes in real life can appear a different color depending on the lighting. In different photos with different lighting, they can turn brown, blue, even green. So I like to think that the confusion about Chris's eye color came about because of his gray eyes, which are just unlucky.

— For some reason, Chris doesn't like to show his young photos. Perhaps he is embarrassed by the fact that he used to be thinner and "weaker". Perhaps it makes him feel insecure. Or maybe he doesn't like his rebellious nature from the past.

— He's a golden retriever puppy.

Ada Wong

— Ada doesn't use perfume while she's on a mission so she doesn't reveal herself.

— She is black cat.

Wesker

— He hates ties. Maybe he was forced to wear them at some point.

— Wesker gives a fake name in non-serious situations like tailoring or meeting with the hairdresser so people won't be embarrassed or try to suck up to him. His name is more influential than himself, and it's a thing he doesn't like to abuse.

— Perhaps one day he wondered if he should have glasses with an interface.

— His totem animal is a possum. He's so good at playing dead.

— There is a stereotypical opinion of him based only on the outward image he builds for others. Few people delve into the lore or what is behind his fake "cool" image. So many people are susceptible to the halo effect, this is a cognitive bias where a person has a prejudice against someone based on their appearance or certain actions. People subject to this cognitive bias do not look at this person with a broad view, slipping into prejudice. This is why many are convinced that Wesker can't be bottom, and aggressively lash out at those who think otherwise. I, on the other hand, believe that Wesker is flexible in this regard, which is maximally not obvious. Wesker to me is "that" character from the teen shows, who builds himself up to be cool, but at night cries from loneliness or is very vulnerable. He's bottom, but that doesn't degrade his ego, it doesn't make him weak, because "bottom" he's only with those who "worthy" of him.

— Speaking of worthiness, I believe that Wesker is unwilling to use his powers all the time by thinking of other people as unworthy. Only Chris is worthy to stand up to that power.

— Wesker keeps Chris's dog tag.

Jill Valentine

— Jill's favorite color is sky blue, as it was the color she chose for her uniform in S.T.A.R.S. and continued to wear throughout her life. Every outfit Jill wore on any mission had shades of blue in it. It is definitely a color that she appreciates very much.

— Jill is definitely not the best cook, she can hardly cook anything better than scrambled eggs. She share this skill with Chris, who isn't very good in the kitchen either.

— Chris is her best and closest friend, her partner. They mean a lot to each other, but it's always platonic.

— Jill's orientation is bi. She probably liked Carlos, but I won't deny that there could have been a close dynamic between her and some woman too. Jill, like Chris, doesn't have much time for a personal life, so she didn't go into much detail about her preferences, nor did she have an love affair.

— She didn't like Wesker even before the betrayal. Maybe she realized before anyone else that there was something wrong with the guy, so she figured out his betrayal before Chris did, who resisted the information. She is perceptive and able to see through people.

— Her totem animal is a manul.

— In the days of S.T.A.R.S., she was the one who woke Chris, sleeping at his desk, just before Wesker or Chief Irons came in. She would cover her lazy (in those days) friend from trouble, getting the brightest and most genuine smile from him. Wesker knew of their machinations, but turned a blind eye to this childishness.

— She tries not to think of the time she spent under Wesker's control. Her dislike for him has only gotten stronger because of it. Of the horrible things about those years was not only violence, but also being with Wesker and Excella. Excella's flirting with Wesker was repulsive to Jill. She hated every moment of it.

— After 2009 her hair was permanently white, because of this she dyes it back to its original brown color so that nothing reminds her of those days.

[multifandomfanficss]

Stuck With You

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: When the team sticks their newest member with Vigilante, everyone feels bad for you, but you’re grateful to have him around when you run into something from your past and lose your cool.

Warnings: panic attacks, human experimentation, referenced child abuse

A/N: I found a couple lines of dialogue in my drafts that I never did anything with and I had the writing bug today so I decided to finally make something with it! I’ll crosspost it on my AO3 adriansglasses as well. Hope you enjoy!

“(L/N), you’re with Vigilante.” Harcourt says, at the beginning of the meeting.

“You’re really gonna stick the newest person with that psycho?” John asks.

“You don’t need to be mean to Adrian just because he’s not here.” Leota starts.

“I would say it to his face too. He’d probably just laugh and call me his 4th best friend.” John retorts.

You hadn’t been with the team for long. This was your first mission with them. After a mission gone too out of control, Waller sent you to the middle of nowhere Evergreen, Washington. You thought she’d sent you here because the environment would be less hectic, but the longer you’re there, the more you realize she probably sent you here because everyone on this team is either highly traumatized or in need of more experience. She was trying to put the training wheels back on. From what you’d been told by the team’s top conspiracy theorist, Christopher Smith, this team was originally supposed to be an expendable scapegoat, but they ended up saving the world. You had no idea what to believe at this point.

“What’s up with Vigilante?” You ask, wondering why this was all such a hot topic. You hadn’t known him for long. He seemed a little odd, but overall fine. If you were being honest you actually kind of liked him. He was sweet and funny, often without trying. There was this comforting air about him and you didn’t really know why. He was a good fighter and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he was at least a little bit cute.

“He’s a little…” Chris started moving his finger in a circular motion, trying to insinuate that Adrian was crazy.

“He can’t be that bad.” You smile.

Suddenly Adrian comes running into the old video store tripping over one of his shin guards that wasn’t on properly. He sits down and fastens it.

“Sorry I’m late, guys. They kept me late at the restaurant and then when I was trying to put on my suit in the car I accidentally ran a red light and usually I would kill somebody for that, but I mean I think the more important thing is that I didn’t run over the old lady crossing the street! She was totally fine and I know she’s alive because she screamed at me…I’ve never seen an old lady use to many swear words. It was kind of awesome! Anyway what did I miss?”

“You put on your suit while driving?” Leota asks.

“Yup.” He gives a straight face nod. Adrian often had a way about him, as if what he was thinking should be obvious to other people, when in fact, it was not obvious to most people most of the time.

“You amaze me.” Harcourt says, sarcastically.

“Thank you.” Adrian smiles, not catching her sarcasm.

She rolls her eyes, sighing.

———————————————————————

Later on that night you and Adrian found yourselves walking through a series of tunnels.

“John, I think we might be lost.” You spoke into your coms, hoping he can help you from the van.

“I can’t even hear you in my earpiece and I’m right next to you. I think we lost the signal.” Adrian walks in silence for a few seconds before adding, “I’m sorry you got stuck with me.” He looks at the ground, sad.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know they stuck you with me. Nobody ever really chooses to be my partner.” He lightly kicks a rock, pretending not to be bothered.

“They did pair us up, but that doesn’t mean I was disappointed.” You smile.

“Really? Why would you want me?”

“Well first of all, you’re a great fighter. You were also the first person to attempt to be my friend. I’d trust you in the field over anyone.”

“Really?” You can hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah.” You let out a soft giggle. “Why are you so surprised that I like you?”

“Usually everyone just tells me to shut up or fuck off.”

“Well I’m not everyone.” You nudge him playfully as you walk.

Soon you come upon a door. It’s a little rusted, but Adrian shoots the lock off and you’re able to break in.

“What is this place?” He asks.

As soon as you walk inside you see the tubes, the files, the devices, the tables, the symbols. You know exactly what this is. This is an old facility for the for the group that made you leave your old job, the mission that ruined your life. You see files on the table, files no doubt full of details on the children they were experimenting on. The group would take orphaned children or children who were abandoned and unwanted, kids who had no one to protect them, and they would experiment on them. They were human trials to try to find new ways of making superheroes. This must have been one of their old abandoned facilities. Despite the lab being inactive, just the sight of it was still enough to send you into a spiral.

Your heart starts beating rapidly as you grow dizzy. You look down at your shaking hands. You’re starting to lose control of your breathing.

“I- I can’t-“ You walk backwards out of the room, starting to hyperventilate.

“Woah. Hey, what’s going on? Are you having a panic attack?” Adrian slowly puts his hands out towards you. He’s a little unsure of what to do.

“I’ve seen this before!” Your entire world is spinning as your start to cry. You can’t stop thinking about the awful things you saw when you snuck into their active facility earlier this year. Those poor children. Part of you was starting to wonder if Waller put you on this team for a reason. You should have known better than to think she was giving you a break. Waller always had some sort of fucked up motive that only worked for herself hidden up her sleeve. “I can’t fucking breathe!” You sob, sucking in air.

“Tender nice touching.” Adrian slowly approached you, patting your shoulder. You needed pressure on your body. You felt like you were slipping away from earth and you needed to be held down.

“Can I have a hug?” You asked, quietly.

“You want a hug?” He asked, his voice just as quiet. He was speaking softly to not startle you further.

“Yeah…”

“I think I can do that.“ He smiles, slowly bringing you into his arms. A little loose at first, he tightened the hug as you melted into him.

“I’m sorry- I- I just…I know what the did here and- and-“ Adrian shushes you as you begin to stutter, your mind moving much faster than your mouth is able to.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me. Don’t focus on anything else, but your breathing okay? Can you feel me breathing?” He rubs your back as you cry into his arms. You nod. “Okay, good. Just…just follow that.” He sighs and then focuses on making his own breathing something you can follow.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to know what people on the team want because I know Chris doesn’t wanna look weak and Harcourt would kill me if I touched her, so I try to be careful. I just don’t wanna upset you guys more, but if you want me hold you I can keep doing that. Just let me know what you need and I’ll do it.” He says, softly.

“Can you just keep talking?” You ask. The sound of his voice is soothing and grounding.

“You want me to keep talking?” He smiles. “You’re in luck. I’m actually really good at talking. So good, in fact, that people are constantly asking me to shut up. So uh… What can I talk about? Oh! I know. So I have this friend at work. His name is Taylor. Well, he says we’re not friends, but he texts me all time time asking me to help cover his shifts and I would only trust a friend enough to ask them for that, so I think we’re friends. Anyway, so Taylor walked in this morning and…”

The longer Adrian rambles on the better you feel. The pressure of his body on yours and his voice slowly bring you back to earth. Eventually you find yourselves walking back through the tunnels, hand in hand, retracing your steps as he guides you back to the van to regroup. He keeps you distracted with silly stories the entire walk back.

You don’t know what the rest of your team was talking about. Adrian was the best partner you could have had.

[shiftingparadise]

Hi! Could you do a gojo x reader fic that is angtsy/hurt followed with a happy ending? I don’t have a particular plot in mind, anything you feel like writing I would love! Thank you :)

I’m sorry for the long wait. I still hope you like it! Enjoy reading 🤍✨

Word count: 2956

Warnings: none :)

“Want to hang out Satoruuuu?”, you playfully looked up at him. “No”, he remained as cold as ever. “Fine”, you tried to hide your disappointment with a smile, “Maybe tomorrow”. “I need to go”, Satoru took a sip from his soda before heading inside.

You watched how he happily greeted Shoko, offering a sip from his soda.

“Try it”, he laughed as he shoved the can in her face, “It’s a new flavor”. “I-I don’t want to”, Shoko frowned as she pulled back.

The sight of them laughing caused a piercing sensation in your chest. Satoru was friendly with everyone, in his own way of course, but never with you. You tried so hard for him to like you, but the more you tried, the more distant he got.

“What about you?”, you sighed with a smile. “Sushi?”, Suguru sweetly smiled. “Sushi”, your eyes lit up at the thought.

You often debated whether you should ask Suguru why his friend didn’t seemed to like you, but you were too afraid of the truth. Besides, it didn’t matter. There was nothing you could do. You couldn’t force someone to like you.

—-

“Stop!”, you giggled as Suguru softly hit the back of your head before looking at the sky again. “Are you talking to me?”, Suguru tilted his head, an innocent look on his face. “I swear to God-“, another soft smack against the back of your head. “I’m going to kill you”, you laughed as you tried punch your friend. “Me?”, Geto’s hand was resting on your forehead, preventing you from hitting a blow.

You didn’t know Gojo had been watching the two of you train for the past half hour. In fact, you didn’t even know Gojo was sitting across the field. At this point, he wanted nothing more than to pull his friend away from you and scold you. Not because you were annoying or because you were weak, but because you were flirting with his friend in front of his eyes. Sure, he never made it clear how he felt about you. He was aware how he treated you and what impression that left behind but still…

“Enough”, Suguru softly brushed through your hair, “I’m going to shower”. “Tsk, fine!”, you yelled as he walked away, “You’re just leaving because you know I’m stronger!”.

“Are you ever going to grow up?”, Satoru’s cold voice send shivers down your spine.

You didn’t see him coming, but that didn’t surprise you. He was, after all, the strongest sorcerer alive.

“You’re always laughing, fooling around, but have you actually finished a mission? Without the help of someone else?”, Satoru took your silence as an invite to continue. “You’re always relying on Shoko or Suguru to clean up your mess, to swoop in to save your ass… It’s pathetic”.

He didn’t know why he was being so mean. It’s not like it felt good to see your eyes well up in tears. No. It hurt him. So why… Why was he saying all this?

“I’m trying”, your nails pressed into the soft skin of your hands, leaving little moon-shaped marks behind. “Trying?”, Gojo chuckled, “You’re not trying. You’ve been fooling around with Suguru instead of using your time wisely”. “But we’ll train again and-“.

“You don’t think Suguru would fall for someone like you, right?”.

Silence.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him”, Gojo kept looking at you, despite you avoiding his gaze at all costs. “Don’t fool yourself. Suguru’s only your friend because he pities you”.

No. No. No. No. This wasn’t what he wanted to say at all. He wanted to tell you how jealous he was of his friend, how he would give up everything just for you to look at him with the same admiration in your eyes as with Suguru.

“Are you crying? Seriously? Is the truth that hard for you to swallow? I thought it was obvious but-“. “I’m sorry”, you finally looked up at him, tears streaming down your cheek. “I’m sorry I’m not enough”, you start to sob, black rivers on your cheek from your mascara.

Satoru’s eyes widened as his heart shattered into a million pieces. He did this. He crushed your spirit and the little confidence you had.

“Y/N-“, his voice soft as he watched you pick up your jacket. “I know. I’m a failure”, you continued to sob before walking inside.

Satoru watched as you walked inside, your arm in front of your eyes.

—-

“Why?”, Suguru gritted his teeth, his pace fast as he saw his friend. “Why would you hurt her like that? You know what I feel for her, how much I care-“, Geto tried to contain his anger. “You know how much I care about her”.

Satoru dropped the ball he was holding, completely ignoring Nanami’s presence (who was just happy to leave after losing 3 games of basketball in a row).

“I told her the truth”, Satoru immediately mirrored his friend’s energy.

He couldn’t stay calm, not when it’s about you.

“The truth?”, Geto’s eyes widened, “You told her I pitied her, that she’s pathetic-“. “She is”, Satoru’s hands balled into fists, “We always have to swoop in to save her ass. She can’t even finish off a Grade 4.“. “That still doesn’t give you the right to-“.

“You think I’m weak too?”, your voice shaking. “N-no, of course not!”, Suguru’s heart sank to his stomach. He didn’t realize you’d follow him. “Suguru”, you unwillingly started to sob again.

Satoru could only watch how his friend hurried toward you and wrapped his arms around you. It broke him. The realization that he could never be the one to bring you comfort; that he’d never be the one who made you smile.

“Y-you’re not weak”, Suguru’s digits softly wiped the tears from your cheek, “You’re technique’s just really hard, just like Shoko’s, and you’re even better at using reversed cursed technique than her-“.

Ah. There it was again. That look of love in your eyes, combined with that sweet smile of yours. It felt as if his heart was being ripped out from his chest.

“Come on, let’s get some sushi, okay?”, Suguru softly hummed as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “And you”, Suguru’s gaze hardened as he looked back at Satoru before leaving, “You’re going to apologize to her”. “Tsk”, Gojo clicked his tongue as he pretended to be unbothered by all this.

“Does he know?”, Nanami sighed. “Shit”, Gojo almost jumped into the air. He completely forgot Nanami was there too.

“Does Geto know?”, the blonde repeated his question. “What?”. “That you’re in love with her”.

How? How could he possibly now?

“No”, Satoru gritted his teeth, not even bothering to deny it. “Suguru’s been in love with her from the moment he saw her. I can’t-“, Satoru stopped mid-sentence.

It felt good that someone knew. That he could confide in someone.

“And you?”, Nanami let his head fall back. “From the first time she spoke my name”, he replied softly, his heart flooded with regret. “Why didn’t you tell Geto?”.

Because he could never give you what Suguru could; because he could never be as kind and soft-hearted; because he didn’t want you to become a target; because he didn’t want you to get hurt; because –

“Because”, Satoru just lifted his shoulders. He was done with this conversation. There was no point in talking about it anyway. By now, he had hurt you more than enough. There was no space for him in your life.

—

“Be careful, okay?”, you look at Suguru. “You too, Satoru”, you softly added. “Yeah, yeah”, Satoru waived your words away. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back by the end of the week. Besides, we’re the strongest”, Geto sweetly smiled.

God, you loved that man more than anything. However, that was ages ago. Or it felt like ages anyway. You never expected Suguru to become like this. So cold-hearted, so distant. He’d talked to you about his visions; about what he wanted but … You never really thought he’d leave you behind.

“That’s impossible”, you softly whispered, “Suguru would never kill-“. “Tsk”, Satoru gritted his teeth, trying to hold himself back.

Yes. Satoru hated it when he saw you kiss his best friend; when you cupped his cheeks and pulled him close. He didn’t want to be reminded of how sweet you must taste or how soft your skin felt… But he still didn’t want to miss his best friend, to watch his best friend turn into a monster.

“I’m sorry”, your Headmaster crossed his arms, his eyes peering over his glasses. “N-no”, your eyes widened, “It wasn’t him! He would never do something like that!”.

Gojo stared at the ground, his hands clenching the table behind him.

“Suguru would never hurt someone”, tears streaming down your cheek, “S-sure he’s lost his way but that doesn’t mean he’s a murderer”. You looked behind you, trying to understand why Satoru didn’t defend his best friend. “Why are you so quiet? Say something? Tell him that he’s wrong!”, you cried out in disbelief. “Why?”, Gojo clenched his jaw, “It was him. The only traces of cursed energy were his”. “B-but-“, you tried to convince yourself that the person you loved wasn’t a monster. “Don’t you get it?”, Satoru’s words felt like poison, “The Suguru you, we, knew is gone. Stop acting like an idiot”.

“I hate you”, your voice cold before you walked away. There was no point in staying. “Get some rest. You don’t have to attend your classes tomorrow”. You didn’t respond to your Headmaster’s advice. You wanted to be alone.

Satoru widened his eyes. He never saw you like this. So cold, so distant… He wanted to run after you; to tell you he missed Suguru too but he realized all too well that he was the last person you wanted to be around now.

—-

Satoru stopped his tracks as he stood before your room. His heart was racing. It’s been months now since Suguru left and you weren’t doing too well. Everyone could see it; how skinny you’d gotten, how the skin around your eyes darkened each day… It reminded him of how his best friend looked before he ran away, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice not even with someone who hated him. Besides, his feelings for you never changed. Not even when you became an entirely different person. In his eyes, you were still the prettiest girl he’d ever seen and it hurt him more than he could take to see you like this. He wanted to see you smile again, to hear that cute giggle form in between kisses, even though it was because of another man.

“Y/N?”, he softly knocked on your door.

No response.

“Y/N, open the door”, he tried to sound as kind as possible.

His heart fastened as he heard some movement.

“What?”, you slightly opened the door. “Here”, Satoru held out a bag. “What’s that?”, you frowned as you opened the door a little more. “Something to eat”.

His stomach turned when he noticed how much weight you lost. Your once chubby, and cute cheeks were completely gone. Instead, they were replaced by cheekbones that cast a shadow over your face.

“I’m not hungry”, you tried to close your door but Satoru’s foot got in the way. “It’s from your favorite place”, his voice desperate. Your eyes lifted from the ground to look at the bag. “How did you know?”, your voice still cold.

How did he know? What was he going to say? That he practically stalked you and overheard almost every word when you were in the same room as him?

“Just eat something”, he gently pushed your door open. “N-no”, you hastily tried to close the door but there was no strength left in your body.

Satoru’s eyes widened as his heart shattered. Your room was a mess, something he expected but … He didn’t realize you kept all of Suguru’s clothes he left behind. There was his shirt wrapped around your pillow, two of his sweaters spread on your bed, his jacket thrown on your chair…

“Happy now?”, you frowned.

God, Satoru never felt so jealous. Matter of fact, he felt so jealous that he was angry. How could you still care so much about Suguru? Sure, he missed his best friend too but he realised what he had become and which side he chose to join.

“This isn’t healthy”, he entered your room without permission, “I’m taking his stuff”. “N-no!”, you immediately ran toward the white-haired man. “You’re not touching anything!”, you grabbed his arm as you tried to pull him back. “Stay back”, Gojo coldly replied as he placed the bag of sushi on your cluttered desk. “Stop!”, you cried out as you saw him grab Suguru’s clothes. “I hate you!”, you screamed as you desperately tried to pull him back. “Don’t you get it?”, Gojo raised his voice, “He isn’t coming back. He left you. Just as he left me. There’s no point in clinging onto the past”. “He is! I know he is!”, you punched him as he grabbed your trashcan.

You paused for a swift second as you realized you could touch him, meaning he wasn’t using his cursed energy.

“Stop!”, you balled your fists again. “Tsk”, Satoru grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, “Look at me”. “N-no”, your head hanging low, tears streaming down your cheek. “Look at me”, his voice soft as he loosened his grip. “N-no”, your sobs got heavier.

“I know it hurts”, he softly cupped your face as his thumbs wiped away your tears, “I miss him too but he isn’t coming back. You need to move on. You can’t just keep on starving yourself and missing your classes”. “N-no, he’s coming back. He’d never leave me behind without saying goodbye, without-“, you tried to control your breathing as reality hit you in the face. The person you loved wasn’t coming back.

Satoru didn’t know what to do or what to say. There weren’t any words left to make you feel better.

“It’s okay, let it all out”, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

He was mad at Suguru for leaving you like this, but once he pulled you close and his nose took in the scent of your hair… He felt almost thankful. He’d wanted to hold you like this for so long. Sure, he didn’t want you to feel like this but if it meant he could hold you…

“Why? Why did he leave?”, your broken voice broke through his thoughts. He immediately felt sick again. “I don’t know”, he softly pulled away, leaving a cold feeling behind. “You need to eat”, he continued after your lack of response. “No”. “Yes”, he chuckled as he walked to your desk. “Here, eat”. “Fine, I’ll eat some”, you walked to your door. “No”, Satoru folded his arms, “I want to see you eat”. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”, you sighed at the realization. “Nope”, he smirked as he looked over his glasses. “Fine”, you grunted in agitation. “A plate of sushi for Miss Y/N”, Satoru playfully got the sushi out of the bag. “Satoru-“, you sighed. “Oh, I almost forgot”, he ignored you, “A plate of sushi and some strawberry mochi as dessert”.

“Strawberry mochi?”, your eyes widened. Maybe you were a little hungry after all. “No”, Gojo held the mochi up high, “You’re going to eat your sushi first.

—-

“You’re looking better”, Satoru smiled as he watched you close your door. “Y-yeah, I tried to look decent”, you shyly answered. “Come on, let’s go”, he placed his hands in his pockets in an attempt to try and stop himself from pulling you close.

You two had gotten closer over the past few weeks, and Satoru wasn’t complaining.

“Where are we going?”. “Oh, I didn’t tell you?”. “No”, you softly answered. “Well, it’s a surprise then”. “I don’t like surprises”. “Fine”, Satoru rolled his eyes, “We’re going to the city. You need new clothes”. “I don’t-“, you paused as you realized you didn’t have that many clothes that still fit you. “Thought so”, Gojo smirked contently, “We can grab some sushi before heading home”.

—-

“This was actually fun”, you looked down as the metro kept his steady pace. “Fun?”, Satoru sighed, “My hands are sore from carrying your bags”. “You said I needed some clothes”. “Yeah yeah, fine”, he sighed, “I’m just glad you’re happy”.

He didn’t want this day to end. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. Every minute the metro got closer to Jujutsu High, his heart got heavier.

“Here”, he sighed as he placed your bags on your bed. “Be sure to get some rest for our classes tomorrow”. “Hm”, you softly hummed. “What?”, he looked down as he tried to study your face. “Nothing”, your cheeks red. “Why are you blushing?”, Satoru tilted his head, his nose almost touching yours as he looked at you.

And then it happened. Something he never expected.

“H-huh”, Gojo’s eyes widened as you placed a swift kiss on his lips.

He didn’t move. He was frozen in place as he could see your big eyes staring at him, your cheeks redder than ever.

“I’m sorry”, you hastily apologized when he kept still.

Satoru didn’t answer, instead, his hands cupped your cheek as he pulled you close again. His entire aura changed, all his playfulness disappeared like snow in the sun.

“Right”, he chuckled as he softly broke free from the kiss. “W-what?”. “Your lips”, he placed another swift kiss on them before he continued, “They taste like strawberries, just as I imagined”.

[inkykeiji]

just a lil daydream i had while on a run a few days ago and i absolutely had to write a lil something for it ehehe

character: akutagawa ryuunosuke x fem!reader warnings: messy kisses, blood, aku is mean a lil virgin with a big crush, mention of mori, size difference, no explicit smut but still 18+ only please! words: 2.2k

It’s loud, too loud, so loud the walls seem to be breathing with the bass line, pulsing in time with the steadily building beat, amplified by the strobing neon lights, and it’s making Akutagawa’s head hurt. 

He can’t stand events such as these. He doesn’t want to be here—fucking despises noisy spaces and rowdy crowds—and if it were entirely up to him he wouldn’t be, but as it turns out, it isn’t, and he has a duty to fulfill. 

Because some grand deal has just been sealed, something monumental for the Mafia, something that calls for celebration, and Mori has ‘requested’ the presence of several high ranking members to join him at one of the clubs he owns in commemoration. 

Akutagawa doesn’t really know many of the details pertaining to the negotiation, most of the more intimate specifics kept private for obvious reasons, but he supposes it doesn’t matter either way; Mori never really needs an excuse to throw a party.

And what Mori wants, Mori gets. Always.

So he’s here, like the good boy he is, because he never disobeys a direct order from a superior no matter how badly he wishes to; he was raised by his master to be respectful, after all.

Doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it, though. 

Stuffed in a dark corner and shrouded in shadows, Akutagawa glowers at the mass of bodies on the dance floor, features screwed up in a disgusted scowl. It’s hard to believe anyone considers this a good time, that anyone could have fun in such a sweaty, stifling environment, that anyone actually likes being packed onto a grimy dance floor like overstuffed sardines as the bass rattles your teeth and ruptures your ears.

It’s entirely barbaric, as far as he’s concerned. 

He’s so absorbed in his own loathing rumination that he doesn’t see you until you’re wedging yourself past a wall of gyrating bodies, spit out from the crowd like a spare tooth, skin dewy with exhilaration and chest heaving with breathless amusement. 

God, you’re beautiful; so beautiful it’s almost revolting, so beautiful it makes his stomach churn, acid burning as it bubbles up his throat.

Your eyes sweep across his corner once, gliding over his hunched form before snapping back to his face, your gazes connecting. 

Sharp bolts sear through his gut, a cliche kick of electricity that ripples his flesh and spikes his blood, that zips up the notches of his spine and forces each vertebra into submission, snapping them back into a straight, rigid line.

Before he can even make sense of it at all, you’re marching toward him, mischievous determination hard on your face. Before he can even ask you what the fuck is going on, your hands are wrapping around his arms and tugging them free from his body.

Your touch shocks him, another irritating jolt coursing through his body, blood cracking with electric currents, buzzing through his veins and shot straight to his brain, short-circuiting his synapses. 

Everything has gone numb, his limbs languid, his senses dulled to everything but you as your delicate fingers flex around his slim wrists, rendering it exceptionally easy to string him along back toward the crowd, his own feet dumbly obeying your motions irregardless of the fact that he’s desperately telling them not to. 

“Wh-What are you doing?” 

And he hates the way his voice trembles, words fractured by the nerves, his question coming out weak and needy instead of firm and authoritative, like it should. 

If you notice his incompetence, you don’t acknowledge it, that gorgeous smile still painted wide across your cheeks, response blithe and bright.

“I want to dance with you!”  

“No,” he says automatically, instantly, and he isn’t sure if he’s denying you or denying your statement. “No,” he repeats, firmer this time, molars grinding together. “Let me go. I don’t want to—I really, really don’t want to.”

He commands his arms to jerk away from you, but they do nothing, hanging limply in your grasp. Anxiety-tinged adrenaline rushes through his body, procuring waves of little thorns that sprout beneath his flesh and leave his body quivering. 

“Enough of this, Goddamn it,” he growls over the music, lip curled in a sneer. “I am not going to dance with you.”

He attempts to plant his heels, to root them to the floor, to pool his blood and weigh them down, but his feet aren’t taking no for an answer, and neither are you. 

“C’mon,” you pout, and Christ, it’s lethal. “Just one dance, Ryuu? Pretty please?” 

And it’s the way you’re staring up at him—with startlingly sincere eyes that glitter even in the dimmest of lights, beseeching him—that makes him stop, that has any protests withering to ash in his throat, burnt up in your bonafide flames.

His tongue melts in his mouth, sticky and choking, and he finds he can no longer form the word no anymore, drowning in his own blistering spit, white-hot and boiling beneath your blaze. Denial is something his hazy mind is unable to comprehend, irregardless of how zealously he tries to stitch together a fraying protest, incapable of refusing you no matter how badly he wants to.

Which he does want to, right? 

He isn’t afforded a moment to further meditate on his question, though, because he suddenly finds himself deep in the ocean of people, unable to see or feel anything or anyone but you.

Panic sets in, barbed and paralyzing, his hands beginning to shake as frantic eyes dart around your face erratically, desperately hunting for any clues on how to proceed. 

It’s all so foreign, a torrent of intense, inexplicable emotions clashing within him, roaring over one another as they surge through his rickety frame. Terror roots itself in his stomach, thick and icy, while a fog of confusion encases his brain, dense and stifling. Exhilaration floods his veins, fizzy as it washes over everything else, washes away everything else, a spark of cautious excitement igniting in his chest.

It is all so utterly infuriating. 

You’re looking at him peculiarly, a question shimmering in your eyes, and he snarls at you. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he tells you honestly, body slouching slightly. 

“You dance!”

“I don’t know how to fucking dance,” his face puckers, as if the confession sours his tongue, as if he’s offended you’d have thought otherwise. 

But you’re still brilliant as ever, that megawatt smile back on your lips as your hands encircle his slack wrists.

“I’ll teach you,” you’re telling him, easy, effortless, as you place his jittery palms on your hips, pressing them into your body as if sticking them to yourself, ensuring that they won’t peel off. 

Your flesh is grounding, soothing the tremors wiggling beneath his skin in a mere instant. His fingers spread, splayed long and wide, desperate to gather more of you within their grasp, the tips of his pinkies resting on the swell of your ass. 

You don’t seem to mind, though—or maybe you just haven’t noticed yet—your hips beginning to move in rhythmic little motions, body swaying to the beat of whatever’s blaring through the speakers as your hands run up his chest, leaving thick trails of chills in their wake, despite how sweltering it is submerged this deeply in the crowd.

A shiver ripples his flesh as you drape your wrists over his bony shoulders, fingers idly playing with the tufts of hair curling at the base of his skull, pushing into the tresses and scraping your nails against his scalp before twirling strands around your knuckles. 

An embarrassingly needy moan pries past his lips and his head falls forward, forehead knocking against your own, allowing your fingers more room to move.

If you didn’t hear his moan, you sure as hell felt it, rumbling behind his ribs, vibrations seeping into your body; sure as hell felt the way his body molded further into yours, deliquescing beneath his craving for more. 

He knows you did, because he felt the sweet giggle that chimed so delicately in your chest, he felt the soft huff of amusement that spilled from your lips and soaked into his, warm and tingling.  

But it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care how pathetically eager he may seem, how pathetically eager he is, how fucking dumb he must look now, after so vehemently attempting to reject you and so miserably failing at it, his pitiful spurns now rendered absolutely useless as he keenly vies for more; more of your body, more of your touch, more of you.

Because as inept as he must seem, it all feels so good, and his eyes slide shut as he lets it overwhelm him, lets it coil around his ankles and plunge him into its depths, swamping his brain and his rationale—giving in, giving up.

Eventually, he comes back to himself, lids lifting when he realizes his body’s practically fused to yours—chests pressed flush together, thighs slotted between one another, arms wound tight, tighter, around hips and necks, further grinding your bones together, a tangled knot of an entity. 

His hands flex on your lower back, squeezing you to him further, fingers snapping blood vessels beneath their grip, staining his name into your flesh in tiny bursts of navy and violet. Your palms are pressed flat to the back of his skull now, keeping his forehead in place against yours as your bodies move as one, both hands buried in strands of ink, fingers rubbing little circles into his scalp. 

Your pupils are gaping, shimmering black holes that seem to consume everything they touch, and Akutagawa finds himself drowning in them, engulfed in the way they’re gazing up at him with such potent adoration it feels fucking choking, like he’s a fucking god, like they want to devour him whole.

And he goes willingly, readily, desperately. 

There are dewdrops of sweat caught in his lashes, little crystals that glisten as they catch on the intermittent neon flashes, that stream down his cheeks and streak his skin with glimmers of teal and fuchsia. Tendrils of ink and ivory are sticking to his temples and his neck, clumped together and saturated with salt. You’re soaked, too, sweet little dress clinging to your curves and contours, clinging to his damp palms, clinging to his sopping shirt, the both of you drenched in each other’s perspiration. 

Your body throbs against his own, so close he swears he can feel your heart beating against his, so close he swears he can feel the blood thrumming through your veins, sirening to his own, ebbing and flowing with his breath, with the beat embracing you both. His nose bumps against yours again, smearing and slippery, and you laugh, nothing more than an echo in your chest and a sweet puff of breath against his own mouth, melodic sound suffocated by the building bass.

It’s all so fucking heady, he feels so fucking high with it all, his lips parting, ravenous for just a taste of you even if it’s phantom, tongue chasing the little ghosts you exhale against him, mopping them up, breathing them in, swallowing them down. 

And, oh, it’s so sweet—sweeter than he could’ve ever imagined, stinging his tastebuds and staining his teeth, and something buried deep and dark inside of him growls, suddenly voracious, a vicious sort of hunger that eats through his veins and infests his mind.

Craving turns to necessity, an urgent desire that claws at his flesh from the inside, shredding muscles and tearing tendons, and he can’t fucking take it anymore, positive he’s going to fucking starve if he doesn’t have you right here, right now, a large palm cupping your jaw abruptly, tilting your face up to his and smashing your lips together.

It’s borderline barbaric, it’s fucking bloodthirsty, his tongue raiding your mouth roughly as it bursts past your lips and curls around your own, sucking hard enough to dispel a cute little yelp from the back of your throat and siphoning it into his own mouth. The jagged edges of his teeth scrape across the slick muscle, harvesting excess spit and coating his teeth with your essence. 

Tongue furling around your bottom lip, he draws it between rows of sharp ivory, teeth latching onto your flesh and burrowing until the skin splits, pungent copper searing his tastebuds. A resounding hiss is hurled into his mouth and he gulps it down greedily, the tip of his tongue laving over the four indents carved into your lip, little craters rapidly pooling with blood, and sopping it up with unnecessary vigour, forcing more to ooze from the wounds. 

“More, more, more,” he’s practically spitting the words onto your tongue, weighted with saliva, cracked with desire. “I need more.” 

His mouth is slippery against yours, lips shimmering and stained with your shade of crimson, his demand smearing blood-tinged drool across your chin. Blunt nails bite through the fabric of your dress, gorging themselves on your flesh, clawing at you as if they want to tunnel into you, bury themselves beneath layers of tissue and veins and live in your bones

“Yeah, yeah,” you’re nodding against him, and God, your confirmation tastes so delicious, airy and saccharine like candy floss. 

It has another moan spilling from his throat and into yours, his tongue sweeping your mouth in yearning, dragging over the dimples of your molars and the divots of your cheeks and drenching them in him.  

“Let’s get out of here,” he growls, the sound razored, a large hand clamping around your wrist, fingers squeezing once. “Now.”  

[ideas-live-forever]

hi!! i love your ken imagines and was wondering if you might be interested in writing something for maybeee a pining ken and an oblivious reader? 👉👈🥺 reader has totally convinced themselves that ken is just being super nice bc they've been showing him the ropes for living in the real world but he's actually just super smitten with them

Pining Ken With Oblivious Reader

hi!! thank you so much for requesting! sorry about the wait, i got a little stuck in the middle of writing this. i hope this is what you meant! if not, feel free to send another ask :)

i’m working on my other request right now, so i should be able to get it out soon. in the mean time, i’m open to other ken requests as well!

Ever since you met, you’ve been all Ken can think about

You’ve always been so kind to him, helping him figure out the real world and everything

And he is nothing if not head over heels in love with you 

He can’t help but admire you from afar

And the care and caution he uses when interacting with you is far beyond what he uses with other people

In fact, he gets teased by your guys’ friends all the time about it

As much as he wants to tell you, he just can’t find the courage to do it straight out

You two are just friends

What if it’s too much too fast? Or you don’t love him back? Or you never even liked him in the first place and were just putting up with him because you’re just that good of a person?

You love him too, obviously 

But you don’t seem to pick up on any of the hints he drops, no matter how blatant they are

It started about a month ago, when Ken decided to start being more obvious with his affection for you

His hints were pretty tame at first: an extra compliment here, a few more texts here

“You’re looking extra nice today, did you do something new with your hair?”

‘Goodnight! Have the sweetest of dreams :)’

You were flattered, sure, but in your head he was just being nice in return

He kept that pace up for a while until he couldn’t deal with it anymore

This was going agonizingly slow

So, recently, he’s been more obvious about it

He’ll bring you gifts all the time, hoping they’re meaningful enough to get his point across

It gets to the lost where you have to be more assertive with how many presents he gives you a week

“Ken, you really need to stop buying me so many things.” You scold him, though your tone is undermined by the warmth of your gaze as you look at what must be the 3rd gift box you’ve gotten in 5 days. 

“Why?” He asks, a dejected kind of look falling over his face. “Do you not like them?”

His expression and cautious words catch your attention and you let out a little smile. He’s really just the sweetest guy. ‘If only he liked me..’

“No, of course I do!” You reply, setting the present down and placing one of your (shaky) hands on his. “I’m just worried that you’re spending too much money on me.”

Miraculously, you don’t notice the way the blush rises to his cheeks or his eyes widen at your touch. Ken takes a deep breath to steady himself before stumbling through his next words.

“That’s like, impossible. You’re worth more than all my money.” He says, cringing as soon as it leaves his mouth.

A part of you, a small and repressed part of you, swoons at his statement. However, the reason i’m your mind decides that this is just another example of Ken being Ken.

You don’t see the little frown that falls back over his face when you don’t seem to get the hint.

Ken, driven by newfound motivation, starts jumping at any opportunity to hint how smitten he is with you

He’ll remember the smallest things you say and bring them up later

“The aquarium?” You inquire, looking at the building you two had just arrived at. 

Ken smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He thinks for a moment, debating whether or not to tell the truth. He decides to be totally blunt.

“Yeah. I, uh-“ He clears his throat. “You told me about that time when you were like 6 when your birthday at the aquarium got cancelled and you never really got to go back. So I just figured it could be fun or something-“

“You remembered that?” You ask again, in slight disbelief.

Ken’s a really sentimental person, you know that. But he remembers that dumb story? You must’ve told him that months ago. A blush creeps onto your cheeks.

“Of course.” He shrugs.

Obviously, you end up having a great time at the aquarium (although he got scared in the shark tunnel and you had to hold his hand)

Your one-on-one hangouts evolve from casual outings to fancy restaurants quickly

The line between hanging out and going on a date is so blurred that neither of you are quite sure which it is

Not that you’re going to bring it up

One day you go out for a walk after dinner and end up sitting on a park bench, just talking

Ken looks over at you and noticed how perfect you look in the moonlight

He’s tempted to tell you how he feels right then and there

But of course it doesn’t work out like that

“Thanks for hanging out today,” You say, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

Ken smiles in acknowledgment before clearing his throat a bit. He shifts his gaze from you, to the stars, back to you again. You can practically see his brain racing.

“No problem. It’s nice to feel so wanted.” He says softly. “I really appreciate this, by the way. That you’re willing to put so much time and care into, uh, this.”

You take a deep breath. ‘He’s just being nice. Don’t look for implications that aren’t there.’ You think to yourself. But you have to respond somehow. He’s looking at you like you handed him the world. It’s really cute.

“Of course, Ken. You know I love you,” You realize what you said quickly, eyes widening. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Ken’s never felt so disappointed in his life

He really thought that was it

He’s pretty stiff for the rest of the evening

Like everything he says is scripted

It’s really just so that he can keep it together until he gets home to think out what to do next

As soon as he drops you off, his mind starts racing

What was that?

Was he friendzoned? Was that last part a coverup? 

Regardless, he cares about you too much to potentially hurt you in any way

Even if that means backing off a little bit

So he distances himself abbot, not knowing what else to do

You realize something is off pretty quickly and walk over to his usual spot on the beach

Sure enough, he’s sitting on the sand alone, his head cradled in his hands

You approach him slowly, sitting next to him on the ground

Ken glances up as your shadow casts over him. You sit next to him, not saying anything at first. He looks… confused. There’s a glint of relief at your presence, but also a slightly guarded look that Ken never usually carries.

“Hey,” You say softly, meeting his gaze. “You okay?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes betraying that he’s weighing whatever options he has in this situation in his head. Eventually, he sighs, shifting his gaze to his hands.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He says vaguely, fidgeting with his fingers. “Just trying to think I guess.”

“About?” You don’t want to press, but Ken’s almost never closed off like this. 

“You?” He says, blushing intensely. 

The two of you just sit there for a second, trying to process what effect that little comment had on the future of this conversation

He eventually works up the courage to tell you everything. From the very beginning.

He tells you what a great friend you are, and how he never wants to mess up what you already have

He starts rambling in his nervousness, trapped beneath your intense gaze

“I know you love me as a friend, and I obviously also love you as a friend. But I think I might also love you a little bit more than that, if I’m making any sense. But I totally get it if you don’t feel like that as well. I might be moving too fast. I’m sorry-“

You have to kiss him to shut him up (i know it’s cliche i’m sorry 😭)

He just stares at you after you part, his eyes wide as saucers, until a small grin sneaks onto his face

“So, is that like, an, uh-“

“An ‘I love you too’? Yes.”

You’ve never seen him smile to big

You two spend the rest of the day sitting on the beach and talking

About how you covered up your confession that day at the park

About how he thought he had to avoid you 

Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand

When you grab it back he smiles a little, turning away to hide the blush in his cheeks

[blackswan446]

worth it - two.

→ pairing: yan!knj x reader

→ wc: 1071

→ cws: mentions of abusive ex boyfriend showing up

→ notes: before writing: i have a feeling i'm gonna write this whole thing and be very unhappy with it :( after writing: okay! it's not bad i think :')

days became weeks, which slowly turned into an entire month, of namjoon coming over almost everyday of the week. he was there so much, he seemed to be assimilating into your family life. and the fact that namjoon only started coming over because he was a school-assigned tutor for your brother would easily shock anyone who saw them together-by now, they were practically best friends, the two having formed a close bond within the short period of time. sometimes namjoon wondered, would jiwon still be his friend if he knew the real reason he kept coming around?

technically, he didn't have to be there anymore. your brother's math grades had improved tremendously, so there wasn't any real need for him to stick around. of course, there was no way he'd be going anywhere anytime soon. his friendship with jiwon was like a one-way ticket into your private life, and despite your mysterious demeanor and your refusal to say anything regarding life outside of your house, his mere presence was enough to collect the pieces of the puzzle. all he had to do was put it together.

he wondered, whether observing people was always this easy, or if you were more of an open book than he thought. i mean, he had pieced together your entire schedule within a month! a month full of you speaking to him for 10 minutes a day, tops. the idea was laughable! sometimes, he couldn't help but feel bad. you tried so hard to fly under the radar, to stay hidden from the eyes of others, to remain a private individual. and he had come in and thrown a wrench in your plans, and you had no idea.

in a way, he felt some strange sense of heroism. he had managed to barge into your life first, and instead of it being some villain who was out to hurt you, it was just him, someone who cared deeply about you. it was obvious that you needed someone to protect you from the outside world, since you couldn't do it yourself, and since he had already broken in, it would just make sense for him to stick around for a bit (re: forever) and play the role of the heroine you so clearly needed.

as for actually getting you to trust him, it wasn't easy. you acted so closed-off, you weren't going to be receptive to any acts of affection yet. but he couldn't let his undying adoration for you go unfulfilled! he knew all your favorite things, of course, and couldn't help but leave spreads of flowers, and notes, and gifts, in all your usual spots. all the while, he was slowly (trying) to weasel his way into your life. it was going to take time, and he knew that, but for you, he was willing to dedicate his life.

one particular afternoon, when namjoon and your brother had commenced their usual hours of homework, followed by TV or a video game, the entire day was entirely ruined before it even started. the alarm bells in his head started going off immediately, when he walked in and saw your sleek black shoes in the same place they had been yesterday.

trying to move on with the day, namjoon ignored the obvious problem; the first of many stupid mistakes on his part. he should have known that something serious had happened when he saw your water bottle, the same one you brought with you everyday, on the kitchen counter. and finally, the cherry on top of this disaster of a day, you didn't come waltzing through the door at the usual time you did every single day.

head reeling, namjoon managed to keep his worry under wraps as he unfolded the possibilities in his head. were you sick? seeing as he was still able to come over without being sent home by your brother, probably not. on vacation? unlikely, seeing as your wallet was sitting in a basket by the front door. just stayed home from school? that seemed the most probable, though it worried namjoon more than the other theories. he knew, from the way you came home with armfuls of books, to the advanced classes you talked about taking, that you weren't the type to just skip school for some reason. no, something had happened.

looking at the clock briefly, back to his computer, namjoon spoke. "so, uh, where's your sister? i mean, she's usually home by now, right?" he asked, not looking up from the text on the screen. the lack of response prompted him to glance up, and meet your brother's worried eyes. "sorry, did i overstep?" he said innocently, a fake look of concern gracing his features. jiwon shook his head.

"no, it's not that. it's just..." he paused, quickly glancing down the hallway, towards your room. "she's been having some trouble with her ex boyfriend." he said, tone much more hushed and cautious compared to a minute ago. namjoon, with his eyebrows knitted together, looked shocked. what ex boyfriend?! "oh god, that's awful." he said, matching the concerned boy's quiet voice, "what...uh, what happened?" he said carefully.

jiwon sighed. "she's been getting all these gifts, lately. we thought they were from him, so we just ignored them." he explained. namjoon's heart dropped at the mention of the gifts. his gifts. the same ones he chose out with his own two hands. "anyways, he showed up here late last night, and saw the flowers and note in the garbage, and he just...went berserk. we had to call the cops, it was that bad. she's been pretty shaken up since." he said sadly, a pained expression on his face.

for the first time in his life, namjoon truly felt stupid. stupid, for not finding out about the thorn in your side. stupid, for buying all those gifts and treats and launching you further into your little bubble, and stupid, for not being there to protect you. he was supposed to be your guardian angel, that was his whole reason for doing what he's doing, and this is how it ends?! even worse, it was his fault!

masking his panic and guilt with a sympathetic look and comforting comment, the realization of what was next crept up on him. namjoon was a smart guy; he knew what he had to do. the only question was, would he be strong enough to do it?

taglist:

[nattinatalia]

Urban Wyatt x Reader Instagram AU

Liked by urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, loganpaul, cozane, selenosunni, and 7,567,245 others

yourusername She’s a very cool girl. ❄️ 🧊

View all 1,900 comments

loganpaul 🥵

cozane FUCK OFF

yourusername Copeyyy, be nice 😩

cozane NO

neelamthadhani 😍😍😍😍 There she is.

urbanwyatt 🤤 😋 MINE

yourusername For life baby boy 🤞🏼

jackharlow 🤮

yourusername Here your annoying ass goes 🙄 get over it already.

jackharlow One day, not today but one day.

���

Liked by jackharlow, nemoachida, 2forwoyne, yourusername, and 7,577,245 others

urbanwyatt Who did it better, my girl or me? 🧊

View all 1,600 comments

neelamthadhani Definitely Baby Harlow 💖

yourusername Not you calling me baby Harlow 😭💀

neelamthadhani 🙊🙊🙊

jackharlow For obvious reasons, you.

yourusername You’re just a hater.

jakepaul Definitely your girl 🥵

urbanwyatt That’s right, MY GIRL. About time you’re getting it.

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, russ, louiecasttro, cassieemua, neelamthadhani, and 6,838,466 others

yourusername These were meant for my man sooo enjoy ☺️

View all 1,600 comments

urbanwyatt 🥵🥵🥵🥵

urbanwyatt 🍆 🍑 💦? 👉🏻👈🏻

yourusername Say less baby omw

jackharlow They should’ve been kept for his eyes only. I’m sick of you.

claybornharlow Let me and J post a thirst trap and mom would have us by the balls. You do it, she applauds you for it.

yourusername Because I’m better. We’ve been through this 🙄

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, jackharlow, cozane, selenosunni, claybornharlow, and 8,678,355 others

yourusername He said we were going on a date night, he brought me to see trucks crash into each other! So white of him. But that’s my man and I’m gonna stick besides him 🤭🤞🏼

View all 1,400 comments

urbanwyatt 🙄

urbanwyatt I didn’t see your ass complain when you were enjoying the show!

jackharlow I told him you’d hate it.

urbanwyatt She didn’t hate it though 😒 she’s just fronting’

user girl-

user aren’t you white though?

user she literally is she’s related to Jack and he’s where lmao

mamamaggie My baby is Hispanic, thank you next.

claybornharlow It’s like they don’t know she’s adopted!

user 💀 Not even her brother claims her

yourusername No you idiot, I’m actually adopted!!!!! 😭😭😭😭

jackharlow Stop with the shits 🙄

mamamaggie Urban, next time take her to some street racing, she’ll love that 👀

yourusername 🙊 I don’t know what you’re talking about mother.

mamamaggie As if I don’t know you and your brothers used to sneak out to see illegal street racing.

urbanwyatt 💀 she caught y’all

mamamaggie And you used to pick them up Urban so stop acting innocent.

jackharlow Ha 😂

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, cozane, jackharlow, neelamthadhani, and 8,866,456 others

yourusername Traveling with these idiots is exhausting.

View all 1,300 comments

jackharlow You’re exhausting 🥱

cozane What did I do to you?

yourusername Not let me sleep.

urbanwyatt I’m about to spank your ass.

yourusername That should scare me why?

neelamthadhani I’m so happy you’re here. Being on the road with them can be annoying asf.

claybornharlow 💀💀

•

Liked by yourusername, claybornharlow, cozane, quiiso, jackharlow, and 8,677,345 others

urbanwyatt My baby for life 🤞🏼

View all 2,700 comments

yourusername Nah, what happened to the original caption?

urbanwyatt I do not want to get punched by your brother.

yourusername So fakeeee. You don’t see me hiding away when I post some outta pocket shit YOU sometimes write on my captions.

urbanwyatt Leave me alone

neelamthadhani I love you two together ❤️‍🔥

yourusername I do too 🤭

claybornharlow Okay I guess you two together is something I’ll have to accept. I’m starting to like this relationship.

yourusername Ohhhh? You thought I’d stop riding- I mean dating him if you weren’t okay with it?

jackharlow You always do too much Y/N.

yourusername So what?

user I know for a fact y’all enjoy annoying Jack and Clay, but especially Jack, with y’all’s relationship.

jackharlow They really do.

druski I want her next 👀

urbanwyatt GET AWAY BRO

druski Y/N when you get tired of him, come my way girl.

yourusername 👀

urbanwyatt Don’t fucking give him hopes babe.

yourusername Let me live my life 🙄

jackharlow See what I had to deal with all my life? Throw her away!

druski Yeah throw her away, but my way 🤪🤪🤪🤪

•••••

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree

[yuikomorii]

Let's judge fairly. Yui had her development too. It's not like she didn't have any development.

// I wouldn’t necessarily call it development, I would rather say the story itself advanced and she grew accustomed to the circumstances. Over the course of the games, she got better at managing the Diaboys since you get to know someone after spending a lot of time with them and well… she also started acting more cheeky and bolder with them, for the reason that they started dating. She didn't know Karlheinz well in HDB and MB, so she didn't have any opinion about him, but in DF and CL, she called him out after Karl revealed how much of a jerk he is. It's not like she wouldn't have done that earlier if she had known the truth about him from the beginning—she called out Cordelia in the first game, after all.

However, I do think there are two particular scenes where they tried to highlight some major (?) development.

One is from Ayato's MB route, when she acknowledged acting in a selfish manner and concentrating solely on her feeling rather than on Ayato too, who was also having difficulties. She came to the realization that Ayato isn't perfect, despite being cute and giving her pleasure, and learned to accept him for all of his good and bad traits.

The other one is from Laito’s LE route, in which Reiji tries to make her understand that not believing in your lover can be very painful and that it’s not okay talking like that behind his back.

The message itself was good but this is the type of forced character development I have mixed feelings about. They didn’t have to make Yui act like that because it only portrays her as the bad one here. Yui is the first person Laito has ever opened up to and she was well aware that Laito hates Karlheinz, so getting his powers would undoubtedly damage him, yet she kept failing to understand that, despite the fact that they’ve been dating for some months and should have known better. The scene in which she says that Laito knows everything about her, yet she knows nothing about him only makes her appear so foolish in order to generate conflict. Like… come on, how can the heroine claim such a thing after dating a guy for SIX games?? Plus, the reasons of Laito’s actions were OBVIOUS that not even Reiji could entirely put the blame on him based on his situation.

As for Ayato’s MB route, I can’t entirely put the blame on her; I mean… Ayato is super good-looking and could probably pull anyone, but I can’t comprehend how she failed to realize that he has negative traits too?? It should be crystal clear that nobody is perfect and that everyone has their own issues, so you can’t beg someone to consider you special if they don’t feel like it.

It would have been 10 times better if Rejet actually tried to overcome her weaknesses, instead of adding new flaws. No, writing the heroine to suddenly have a shallow or selfish mindset only to make her “become a better person after realizing her mistakes” was not needed at all. And it’s also not fun making a character learn the same lesson in more games.

Credit to: dialovers-translations on Tumblr

The best scene, in which they could have genuinely made her evolve as a person, was in Carla’s LE route, when she admitted wanting to help him and the ghouls. It would have been nice seeing Carla putting faith in her and giving her an important yet hard task. Seeing Yui try her best to do it right, even if she was struggling at first, would have been such a cute moment. But nope, they decided to push her aside instead.

Other than that, idk if becoming a masochist and less sane as in the beginning count as development, lol, but if it does then it works like that too.

I get that it’s an otome game and most people play it for the guys but I feel like the heroine deserves to have her own storyline where she discovers herself and improves. DL feels more like the Diaboys' journey than her own, which is ironic because she’s the HEROINE, and in her most recent appearance, Rejet literally described her as “Ayato’s lover” without even using her name. I don’t really think the developers care that much about her, otherwise I doubt they’d be ok with all her character inconsistencies.

Yui is my favorite heroine because I find her really cute and likeable, plus I relate to her, but I’m aware of the fact that a likeable character does not equal a good one. She’s your average early 2010s heroine, who could have been indeed better written but serves her purpose, which is still good.

[melodygatesauthor]

Wouldn’t it be cute if one of the moon boys finds someone in a library, reading about different mythologies but they are currently reading about Egyptology? Like this person can have a flowing academia vibe. They sit across from her, and slowly start a conversation? Or she slowly starts a conversation with them?

More Beautiful than Hathor

Jake Lockley X f!Reader

Hi Nonnie, I realized after writing that this isn't quite what you mentioned but I hope you liked it anyway. I thought it came out cute!

Tag/Warnings: SFW, Jake is a cab driver, Jake gets nervous, asking out, steven is there too a little, fluff, cute.

Word Count: 841

Jake walked up the steps of the library after finishing his cab shift. Steven had asked him to return a book for him after he was done with work. What Jake wasn’t expecting was to see someone so radiant sitting all alone with her nose in a book about Egyptology. Jake’s mind sparked alive with a voice, the little British man who had a knack for forgetting to return his own library books, and who had a thing for girls that liked Egyptian mythology.

Jake, let me out. He said from the headspace.

Ignoring the other alter, Jake walked up to the librarian and handed him the book scheduled for return.

Jake, I know you can hear me perfectly. Let me out, I want to talk to her. She’s pretty, and we already have something in common.

Jake walked over to where you were sitting and put a hand in his coat pocket. You looked up over your book, peering at him skeptically.

“Hola hermosa.” He said in the most sly tone he could muster.

You scowled. You didn’t come to the library to get hit on. In fact, it was one of the few places that you could go and almost guarantee that you weren’t going to have some loser come up to you and try to smooth talk his way into your pants. With a heavy groan you dropped the book on the table.

“Seriously?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

He screwed up, that much was obvious. This was out of his comfort zone. He was used to girls flirting back. He felt his cheeks getting hot, and he was scrambling around in his head for anything to say. For once, he was turning to Steven for advice on girls.

Alright, well, it’s too late for me to front now, yeah? She’s going to think we’re even more mental if we switch places mid conversation so…try commenting on her book. Yeah, that should work.

“I like your book.” Jake said in an almost robotic tone.

No, Jake…I know you know how to talk to women, I’m the one who gets anxious. Just breathe, say something smart about like Egypt or something.

“So…you like pyramids?”

“I’m trying to do some research, not that it’s any of your business. This isn’t a club, I didn’t come here to pick up idiots. So if you don’t mind…” You kept your eyes on his, daring him to say anything else absurd.

Jake gulped harshly.

Oh no, Jake you really messed it up. Oh! Tell her she looks more beautiful than Hathor! That’s bound to work!

“Look, I just saw that you were into Egyptology, and I thought…wow, you’re even more beautiful than Hathor herself.”

Jake had never been so off his game. Nothing had ever thrown him off the way you did in that moment, being so bold and not giving in to his advances. A small beep went off on your wrist. You pulled your watch up to your face and groaned.

“Shit.” You said, standing up and grabbing your bags. “Thanks, I’m gonna be late.” You started for the door.

Oh man, you really messed that one up, better let me take over next time.

Jake felt the pit in his stomach that came with rejection. He wasn’t used to such a feeling, and he wasn’t used to girls pushing back against his advances. You were outside on your phone when Jake made his way through the glass doors. You were upset and yelling at whoever was on the other end.

“What do you mean it’s going to take you ten minutes to get here? I need someone here asap, please!” You clicked off your phone and then turned to Jake. “For fuck’s-can you please just leave me alone?”

“I was just going to offer you a ride.” He put up his hands in surrender. “I’m a cab driver, I can take you wherever you need to go.”

You furrowed your brow at him in frustration. You didn’t have much choice, or you weren’t going to make it to your meeting.

“Fine, but no shitty pick up lines on the way.” You insisted, getting into the back of his cab.

Alright Jake, you’ve got this, just don’t say anything stupid alright?

Jake got you to your destination in one piece, and quickly at that. He needed to think of one more thing he could say to turn this around, and get you to go on a date with him. The thought crossed his mind, and he thought for sure it would work, and if nothing, it would at least get a laugh out of you.

No, bad idea don-

“Maybe next time I’ll let you take me for a ride, hermosa.”

Jake spent the drive home rubbing his stinging cheek and listening to Steven rant in the background about how dumb he was for saying something so ridiculous. It was alright though, he knew where to find you, and he knew he’d try again when the opportunity arose.

Celebration Masterlist

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I've seen a few people saying that the people who don't like how Lila is written are just impatient or lack imagination, can we be certain beyond all reasonable doubt that that's not true?

Alright, I'll play devil's advocate for you and show you how, even if we view Lila's writing in the most favorable light possible, it's still perfectly reasonable to have no faith in her as the main villain. In fact, to my line of thinking, it's a little insane to have any faith that she'll be good moving forward. For the sake of your own mental well being, expect her to be terrible otherwise you will likely be terribly disappointed.

The main argument against Lila is that she tells really stupid obvious lies that no one would be fooled by, so how can she possible be seen as a master manipulator by the audience? Well, if we accept that Lila's lies were just exaggerated for the sake of humor the same way that Marinette's crush is played up for humor, then we can hope that that humor will go away and that she'll be played serious now that she's our main antagonist.

This is actually a fair argument. I truly think that this might have been the intent, it just failed to land because the lies are a serious plot point while Marinette's crush antics are not. People wanted Lila outed and every lie was used to hurt Marinette, so the quality of Lila's lies mattered because that's the way that the way that you out a liar. Marinette's crush was never going to be outed by her antics. They were the main way that the writers kept the crush going for five seasons without outing it!

So while you might find the antics just as frustrating as the lies, the expectations built around the antics were met. They never lead to anything. Meanwhile, the expectations built around the lies were never met. Lila was outed by a forced confession, not by her lies even though, when you introduce a liar, audiences will expect the lies to be their undoing. So the lies are bad writing in and of themselves, which is strike one, but we can hope they change so let's move on to strike two: the lie's effect on the cast.

Marinette's antics only made her look bad while Lila's lies made everyone look bad. This is a big, concerning issue since we know that Lila will be a student at Marinette's school again, meaning that it's perfectly reasonable to assume that she'll keep on lying. It's also reasonable to assume that she'll be in every episode.

Even if you take Lila in the kindest light possible and assume that she told decent lies, the writers appear to only know how to write her by dumbing everyone else down and that's concerning. Characters like Max and Alya are supposed to be smart. Max looks into everything and quotes random statistics. Yet he never questioned Lila even though a smart kid like him would be inclined to look into some of the stuff she says just out of pure curiosity and a desire to learn.

We could pretend that Lila told a believable lie about Ladybug like "Ladybug saved me" instead of "Ladybug is my best friend," but even then, Alya learning Marinette's identity still should have been the end of Lila's power over Alya. But the writers didn't know how to handle Alya knowing since Alya would confront Lila, so Alya stayed on team Lila even though it makes no sense and makes her look terrible.

We could pretend that Lila planted better evidence than doilies that Marinette could have taken for free from her parent's shop. That still doesn't excuse Tom and Sabine from immediately believing that their daughter was a thief. They're supposed to be good parents who trust their kid, but the writers don't know how to write that around Lila.

And giving Lila all of that grace makes no sense because it relies on you giving the writers faith that they haven't earned. They had full control over Lila! They knew that she was going to be the next big bad! And yet they wrote her in a way that is totally unbelievable.

Even if Lila's upgrade was decided late in the game, they still could have spent seasons five changing her character to be smarter, but they didn't. Most of the above examples come from season five! It's perfectly reasonable to look at that and say, "I have no faith that you're going to completely reimagine this character into something interesting instead of something frustrating because you have spent five seasons writing her poorly."

And if that's still not enough for you, then here's strike three: The writers have proven time and time again that they cannot write a truly clever character. Lila's most convincing episodes are petty BS that she makes up on the fly. When it comes to complex plots? Lila, Gabriel, and Marinette never come across as particularly impressive.

Others have talked about this, but pretty much every big dramatic plan relies on the writers being able to control the characters' actions. They're not plans that would actually work. Here are just a few examples:

Lila's plan to go to the mansion and get the butterfly only works because the writers know that the butterfly will be unguarded. No reasonable person would assume that would happen because why would it? So why did she go to the mansion? What was her original plan? How does she even know that the butterfly is up for grabs? In a good story, she would have had a plan that lead her to the mansion, but that plan gets scrapped based on what she sees. We don't get that good quality writing because the writers already know that the butterfly will be open season so they never bothered to make Lila's actions logical to any other scenario. They didn't even bother to have her watching the final fight.

Along similar lines, Gabriel only gets all of the miraculouses because Adrien has an evil twin who shows up when the plot demands it. Without Felix, Gabriel would have once again failed and Felix's betrayal makes no sense, especially after his season five characterization. Felix fears his uncle, why offer all of the miraculous AND Adrien's ring? Why not only offer a few? And why is Gabriel able to open the yo-yo and get the miraculouses? The yo-yo opens to a phone, the miraculouses, and a purse. Why would Gabriel be able to control which one it opens to or even open it at all? Especially since access to the miraculouses was implied to be a Guardian power. And why does Felix not immediately betray Gabriel? He's got no reason to stay loyal and he supposedly wants his uncle stopped. Answer: because then the plot would fall apart.

Marinette's plan to hide her identity via the kwamis was asinine and clearly made up last minute by the writers. It would have been very easy to foreshadow this plan by having her hide something in Chat Noir's bell back in season four, but they didn't because the writers didn't actually plan out this plan. There's also the fact that we're apparently supposed to think that the Tom and Sabines is the only bakery in Paris? "Follow the smell of croissants" would not get you to a specific bakery nor would it get you to Marinette's room. It would get you to the bakery. Yet Gabriel goes to the right bakery and to Marinette's room because that's what the writers needed him to do.

I just... how can anyone look at the last five seasons and think, "oh sure, this show can handle having someone who plots and manipulates as the main villain! I'm sure that will lead to lots of satisfying episodes?"

It's not impossible, miracles do happens, but it's the height of arrogance - or perhaps desperation - to act like it's unreasonable to assume that the first five seasons weren't a reasonable representation of the writing quality that we'll be seeing in future seasons. They're not replacing the writing team. What you've seen is most likely also what you'll get. Do you have five bad meals at a restaurant and then say, "It's unreasonable to assume that meal six will be bad, too! Have some faith in the chef."