#i want my purple boy to win so bad

[tei-to-tei]

rip donnie

we must stay vigilant, y'all

@autismswagsummit

[ham1lton]

─── WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS (WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE)

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader

warnings: 18+ content - [oral f. receiving]. mentions of injuries. slight mention of cheating. toxic relationships. a lot of flashbacks, be prepared.

summary: you both grew up together as fellow drivers and the relationship always toed the line from friendship until something more. until a bad accident on the track damages your relationship beyond repair.

author’s note: remember this is an au so things may not be 100% accurate to real life events. don’t be surprised if anyone is acting ooc.

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part one | part two | part three.

[ we can’t be friends / but i’d like to just pretend ]

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.

sometimes you feel like the loneliest girl in the world.

you sit down on the damp grass and start to play around with the green strands as a means of distracting yourself.

as the only girl in your current group, the boys would barely want to co-exist with you. let alone spend precious play time entertaining someone like you.

this meant that a lot of the time, you were alone. when you told your father at nine years old, that you wanted to be a formula one driver one day, he patted your head and smiled benignly at you.

“you can do whatever you’d like kiddo. just be prepared for the weight that comes with it.”

the weight would never feel as heavy as it did when you were excluded from the group.

you’d already exhausted all your entertainment options. you looked across the field to see all the boys playing with each other, roughhousing and kicking a football about. you had finished your book, you hadn’t been allowed an ipod until you were at least sixteen as your mother had warned and now you were bored.

until someone came and sat next to you.

you look up to see a boy that you knew vaguely. the one that had just beat you to narrowly win the go karting race. he looks at you and smiles, sheepishly.

“is it okay if i sit here?”

you nod. you didn’t have the luxury to turn away company. his arm was bruised, as you look at the motley of blue and purple on his fair skin. he sees you looking and hides it, laughing awkwardly.

“it’s nothing. the guys are just rough. that’s why i’m here.”

“i’m y/n.”

“i know.” he says. when you look at him blankly. he stammers again. “i know, i know because we race together a lot. i’m max. i’m not a stalker. i don’t think so anyways.”

“i didn’t believe you were. i just didn’t think you’d know who i was.”

“you’re really good. i always have to keep a look out for the competition.”

“thanks.” it was something about his matter of fact statement that made the warmth spread through your body. if the best thought you were good, that had to mean something right? maybe the sacrifices were worth it.

“no problem.”

you didn’t say anything else after that, but you knew you’d found a kindred spirit within him. the loneliness didn’t seem so lonely when he was there.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“hey maneater.” a tall guy with dark hair leaned over and grinned boyishly at you. “saw that race, you were good.”

“i try.” you smile, chagrined. you hated parties. you hated clubs. you hated anything that put you in the path of men like this. the ones that were oily and greasy and would slip out of your grasp whenever you wanted them.

ever since you had started racing actual cars, and beating records that had been in place for years. the media had given you a nickname, ‘maneater’. max had laughed when he saw the news spread and when you jokingly tried to bite him, you both ignored the shiver that went through his body.

he had already started your dream. he had been a rookie driver for about a year when you still were working your way up. a small part of you resented him. was he simply the better driver or was he deemed so by everyone else?

max comes up to you, face flushed with laughter and alcohol as he he wraps an arm around your waist and buries his face in your neck.

“y/n. i’m tired.”

thankful for the distraction, you mouth a pretend apology to the random man and move your position to a more comfortable one. max always smelt the same, you couldn’t pinpoint the smell but it was always something so undeniably max that it took everything not to intertwine you both together.

“i did tell you to cool it with the drinks.”

“but i won. i deserve to celebrate.”

“sure you do.” you hum, stroking a hand through his slightly sweaty hair. “tomorrow you won’t think this is much of a celebration though.”

he turns up to look at you. eyes wide as he looks at you, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. you smile down at him.

“it’s always a celebration when you’re here.”

“is that so?”

he nods. settling his head down on your exposed thigh as your dress had slightly rode up.

“if you win more races, that’ll just give us an excuse to celebrate more huh?”

FOUR YEARS AGO.

you had finally made it. you were going to be a formula one driver. you had done every stage of celebratory measures. you cried in happiness for your baby self. you called all your family members up, you called your friends and you called max. max insisted on sending a massive bouquet of flowers and a cake around. even though now technically you’d be rivals, he said it wouldn’t change anything.

you swore it wouldn’t either.

SIX MONTHS AGO.

it had been at the abu dhabi grand prix when the incident happened. it started as how every race did. you arrived, you prepped for the race, you interacted with fans and followed whatever inane social media trend your team made you do. you did your pre-race rituals, and listened to your playlist.

the race shouldn’t have been too difficult. you were feeling confident. when you signed a little girl’s poster for you, it made you more excited to go out on the track and make history again.

when max gets competitive, he gets nasty. you knew that. you had always known that. so when you’re leading the race and a car comes hurtling towards you and causing a collision that sent your car spinning off the track, you had a sickly feeling in the pit of your stomach that it was him.

so after you woke up in hospital, as your parents spoke to the doctors. you went through your social media, seeing the crash splashed everywhere. it was trending on three social media sites. the photos of your unconscious body being wrangled from the car by paramedics had been posted by many big figures with prayers. for you.

(“ladies and gentlemen, this is a dark day for motorsport. our hearts go out to y/n and her family.”)

your father came in, his mouth set in a firm line. he looked at you and his eyes were sad.

“hey kiddo. you’re awake. i’m glad.” he smoothed some hair away from your face. you knew he was hiding something from you but you weren’t sure if you should press.“the doctor said you’re going to have to sit out this season. possibly the next too. the crash left you with too many internal injuries. you’re going to need more time to recover.”

you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe. you could only listen to the static of the small television in your room. the sound of your heartbeat and the sound of your dreams cracking in half.

“no.”

“no? honey, you can’t. the doctor won’t be able to sign you off.” your mother places a warm hand on yours. “i’m sorry but we need to focus on getting you better. you’re lucky you didn’t die.”

“if i can’t race, i might as well be dead.” you want to scream. to cry. to punch something. to punch someone. “no. you can’t stop me. i’ll drag myself in the seat if i have to.”

“your team has already signed you off honey.” your mother looks upset at your face. “they said to focus on getting stronger again. you’ll bounce back.”

“NO!” you screamed. “i’ve worked my whole life for this shit and he took it away from me? no. no! no, no, no, no.”

you start to sob. your whole body curls in on itself as tears flow uncontrollably down your cheeks. your parents attempt to console you but what use is it? you’ve lost your first love.

you don’t even notice max standing behind the door.

SIX YEARS AGO.

you find yourself in the awkward position of being max’s date at some charity gala. you find this demeaning but max says it’s a chance to get your name and face out there. interact with the higher ups or something along those lines. he very clearly didn’t acknowledge your introverted tendencies when he said that.

the dress that you bought, hangs loosely around your legs. it’s cinched in at your middle to give the illusion of an hourglass figure. your body has been hardened by all the workouts and you desperately needed a night to dress up. yet, when you get the wrong sort of attention, you start to regret it.

(“you haven’t gotten a boyfriend yet honey. are you not into guys?” your mother had asked one night, as she helped you peel vegetables. your mother had never been a tactful person, but still, you spit out the carrot piece that you had been chewing on in shock.

“no! i mean i am. i am. i’m just, i’m focusing on me.”)

the truth was that you were in love with your best friend and it could never happen. he had a girlfriend for starters, you were attempting to claw your way into a man’s club and you knew that meant you couldn’t date any of the guys without the media hyper focusing on it.

you could imagine all the headlines if you’d threw caution to the wind and dated max. they’d all go after you and not after him. you thought for a moment if you could handle it. you knew you couldn’t.

you wanted max but you doubted it was mutual. you wanted max but it’d never happen, it could never happen. as long as you wanted a career, you couldn’t have the guy.

he walks up to you, grinning as he turns to the bartender and orders your favourite.

“what are you smiling about?”

“nothing. just, happy you’re here.” he hands you your drink and clinks them together. “i missed you.”

“i’m here. i’m always here.”

“so? i miss you even when you’re here. i think about when you won’t be here and i get upset. i’m thinking of glueing us together.”

“wouldn’t be very helpful when we drive our cars.”

“we’ll figure something out.” he takes a sip of his glass. thinking to himself for a moment. you wish for a moment you can read his thoughts. is he thinking about you? about the dress in his favourite colour? the fact you hired a makeup artist for tonight? that you spent hours on your hair? is he thinking about her?

“wanna ditch?”

“huh?” you ask confused. “we can’t. you said that this was important.”

“i spoke to everyone worth speaking to.” he shrugs. “we can stay if you’d like.”

“no, no. let’s go.”

he smiles at you, eyes crinkly and you want to kiss him so badly but you don’t. you can’t.

you leave the room together. giggling like kids as you attempt to sneak out. no one notices, or if they do, they pretend not to. when he reaches for your hand, you wrap yours around it.

as a shy, precocious child, when max had effectively taken you under his wing, you’d do whatever he’d ask. even as an adult, you’d do the same. when he kissed you in his hotel room that night, you kissed him back.

“is this okay?” he whispers, as his hand was on the zipper on the back of your dress. you nod and kiss him again. he groans as you press yourself down on him.

you step out of your dress, as he plays with the waistband of your panties. he smooths his thumb against the exposed skin as you stand in front of him. he leans in and kisses your hip.

“is this for me?” he looks at your matching lingerie set. you don’t know what to say. it was to make you feel sexy but he’s doing that for you now with the way his eyes darken as they look at you.

“do you want it to be for you?” he nods and you grin. “it’s always for you.”

“lie down.”

“why?”

“i want to eat you out. lie down, please.”

something in the way he sounded in that moment made you immediately listen. he sounded desperate. desperate for you.

losing your virginity to the man you’re in love with was never in the plan, but as you lie against the pillows as his face sits between your legs, you don’t care. you almost sing for him as he goes down on you. he presses his ring finger and middle finger in slowly and you shake as your legs lock in on his head.

the aftershocks tremble through your body as he crawls up and kisses you. smoothing his free hand against your skin.

“what about your girlfriend?” he shoots you a side-eye.

“now you ask?” he grins as you giggle. “we’re not together anymore. i never thought she was really for me. i don’t know. i think i compare every girl to you.”

you freeze. he kisses you goodnight and falls asleep but how could you sleep knowing that?

a week later, they’re back together and you try to swallow the hot tears that threaten to show. you channel all the energy into the race and place higher than him.

deserved.

yet, it still doesn’t get rid of the pain in your stomach when he posts her on his instagram with the caption - “my greatest prize.”

[thefandomthings]

❝𝐀𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Aomine Daiki x f!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suggestive (It's Aomine, duh), fluff

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I need more knb fics, pls. This is my first time writing for Knb, so I hope it's okay

Masterlist

 It will take a lot for Aomine to get into a relationship after his last one, he’ll never admit it but he’s afraid of getting hurt. (Again)

 So consider yourself lucky my dear.

 Daiki is a person who loves something or someone quietly.

 He’ll never really say he loves you out loud unless you haven’t seen each other in a long time or if you/him are having a bad day.

 His love language is physical affection and quality time. He’ll always be touching you with an arm around your shoulders or holding your hand or his hand on your tit.

 Speaking of boobs, well all know he’s obsessed with them. He’ll constantly try and catch you changing, or put his head under your shirt while cuddling just to be near the girls, as he calls them.

 Daiki is also extremely protective over you. He wants to keep you safe all the time. He’s lazy af, but whenever you want to go out just to run and errand he’ll be on his feet ready to go. My man will deck someone for looking at you wrong even in the slightest way.

 He calls you Idiot, dummy, and moron if you do something stupid or dumb. He does it out of love cause he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

 Aomine only uses your first name if you two are having an argument, or having an important conversation. Other than that your are usually called Babe or Baby.

 Your nicknames for him are Bubby/Bubba, Dai, Baby, and Kiki to annoy him.

 You two go on arcade dates at least once a month. Or you two go and kick it at the hoops downtown. Aomine plays a lot of street ball and knows a lot of guys down there.

 If you don’t know how to play basketball, he’ll gladly teach you how.

 If you already know how, you play 1 v 1 all the time, Aomine always ends up winning. But he will help you improve your skills.

 Teases the crap out of you any chance he gets. Loves seeing your flustered face.

 Aomine is totally the type to whisper dirty things in your ear while out in public. Not to mention he will just randomly grope your chest or butt whenever he feels like it.

 He’s also the type to rest his arm on your head not matter your height. He will also mess up your hair and use your head as a joystick whenever you sit between his legs.

 Daiki is a pervert at heart, whenever you are wearing a skirt and come to see him while he sleeps on the rooftop he’ll sneak a peak underneath.

 I feel like he’s a boob and thigh guy all the way. He will happily die between your glorious thighs and tits.

 Randomly leaves bite marks anywhere he wants. Adores when you have hickeys on your neck, fills his ego to the brim watching people comment on the purple bruise on your neck.

 Fucking loves when your wear his extra jersey to his games. It’s the motivation he needs to get going. Will completely crush his opponents just to watch you cheer for him.

 Pouts when you don’t give him his morning kisses or if you get up during your 2hr cuddle sessions when he wakes up.

 I 100% believe he is half Hispanic. He definitely knows Spanish and will call you names like Puta or Pendeja.

 If his mom here’s him call you that just know he’s getting a tongue lashing and the chonclas getting thrown at his head.

 He gets his accuracy from his Mom.

 It takes awhile for his mom to like you, she doesn’t want anyone hurting her baby boy.

 After awhile, she’ll treat you as her own daughter, and even teach you Spanish.

 Bonus if you already know Spanish, that’s a +1 with his mom.

 His dad liked you instantly, you were a lot different then his old girlfriend and welcomed you with open arms.

 Daiki has his dad’s ego, it’s like looking at the same person anytime they compete with each other, which is almost always anything they do.

 Aomine will totally be at any of your games/meets if you play sports. Even if he is late, he’ll be there cheering you on.

 Get’s jealous easily, especially if you talk to Kagami. If looks could kill, Kagami would be dead.

 Will have you against the door of his room, or pinned to the bed whenever he gets jealous. He makes sure you know that you are his and only his.

 His room is a disaster, clothes, old school papers, blankets etc.

 He try’s to clean his room up a bit before you come over. It’s adorable, it usually doesn’t look to much different just the floor was clean cause he moved everything to the corner of his room and covered it with a blanket.

 Loves to get you small gifts. He saves up for months to get you a beautiful promise ring. And what made it even better, you got him a promise bracelet that he wears absolutely everywhere.

 He makes sure to take it off before a game or when does anything that could break it.

[critterbitter]

If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your comic making process? I find it hard to make comics that look eye-pleasing to read and yours are like candy.

Ah, comics! Dig under cut to see some old wips as I attempt to explain my nightmare thought process to you.

For making a comic AESTHETIC and APPROACHABLE:

I've noticed that it's easier for people to be pulled into a comic if I set the environment first and foremost, so people have some vague context for the scene. Of COURSE that's not always necessary ( there are a lot of comics that start out without environmental story telling and it works perfectly) but I've always liked having a lil illustration before digging my rat claws into the meat of the story.

For example! “Emmet and Elesa have a clandestine meeting in the library at 4 am.”

The sketch was sort of the jumping point to where I wanted to go with the comic. I wanted to a. explain wtf is happening and b. draw a nice conclusion about what the f is happening.

You don't need to make the environment available in every panel too! I'd suggest making your first panel tell all the environment detail you need and then like... slowly removing irrelevant detail from there. And then hit folks with the background again at the end. (So basically, you don't see the library in this comic until the beginning and a bit towards the end. I have tricked you! aha!) So that's one tip i have. For Readability: Anyways, to make a comic easy to read, spacing is super important. Dialogue tends to cramp a shot by a WHOLE lot. For example! Remember the "Lamp is told she's beloved (and has a tsundere moment over it"? That used to be TWO panels. Man. Nightmare fuel. Lemme find it. (This is the rough. I Lined It, realized the pacing is off, and then withered. Please don't look at it too hard.)

So here's the thing. This READS. But the sheer amount of dialogue in the beginning is fatiguing for me and the "you are beloved, Lampent" NEEDS that oomph of both characters realizing that over the span of years, their relationship stopped being antagonistic and started being family instead. Some folks are fine with blocks of dialogue, but I have the attention span of a patrat on candy. I will not make it. SO! To match the almost moody atmosphere, I stretched the comic out. I stretched that bad boy out a LOT. And I got this out of it.

Something to keep in mind in comics is there's always going to be one or two iconic lines. Lines that make people FEEL things. Those lines deserve their own panel, their own shot, their whatever. A good story has lulls in its conversation. If you can replicate it, you're winning. Character Blocking:

So basically no, it's not all witchcraft. It's only a bit of witchcraft. Another thing that helps is differentiating characters if they're on the same panel is by solid blocks of color. I have, for the longest time when working on storyboards, blocked characters different tones in order to help differentiate them. Don't be shy! Do that if it helps your comics read! Ingo will always be darker shaded then emmet. The angry nightlight will always have some hint of purple on her (unless I forget). The first goal in a story is to convey information, hehe. Here's an example of color blocking! (This is from a VERY old botw comic I did for linktober in 2021.)

It's, ah, rather rustic compared to what I do. usually. I know! BUT the primary goal here is to convey where the characters are in relation to each other. And the fact they're color coded makes life easier for both reader and artist. Alright! That's all the tips I can think of off the top of my head. Time to get off that soap box, haha. Overall: Basically, my work process is-- draw a story telling image/ write a funny piece of dialogue. Build the comic around that. Pace it so the important lines stand out. Color code the characters for max visibility. And then four to twelve hours of lineart, but that's neither here or there.

Thanks for coming to my unregulated rambling!

[innocent-cat]

can you make headcannons abt ramattra from ow during the unholy 🙏🏻🙏🏻

god it'd be my pleasure

Ramattra x Reader

Warnings - NSFW!!!!!! lol

"Robot dick?? dont mind if i do." Ramattra x Reader

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻

i've been waiting for this one ong

HE'S SOOOO FINEEEE

Now, for the sake of these head canons, he does in fact have a omnic dick.

You were his first fuck, so when he first came into you, he rebooted

crazy sensation for him

obviously circumcised

6.8, dark purple, tip fades into light purple

feels really silicone like because duhh its fake

but boy is that dick game real

probably does quick fucks to get stress relief but can defo be caring if you asked

His frame literally cradles you when hes fucking you

full on whimpering in your ear

ever used mei's slush, ashe's bomb, and ana's bullets on him?\

thats what i meannn

He has like? fake cum?

Whatever it is, its still white, sticky, and safe to be in you so win win.

Whoever coded his ass wanted him bad

sensors on his groin and chest is crazy

Very sensitive??

like, he can last 10-15 mins but that entire time he is ready to spill all over you or bury himself into you.

Choker.

only if you say its okay though, he loves consent

he loves begging even more though.

"Please, Ramattra, fuck..-"

"Resorting to begging, slut?"

degradation kind of guy

Defo holds your hands above your head while he fucks you

loves watching you squirm against him

literally fingers you just to watch you squirm against him

He'll legit just fuck you anywhere???

of course, not in front of people, he understands social norms

At one point, the two of you were in overwatch head quarters for a meeting or something and he dragged you into an empty room

you pulled off your pants n underwear and he picked you right up

anndd slid you onto his cock

loved watching you choke on your moans so no one knows where you guys are

if someone DOES walk in, he'll position the two of you so the person who walks in can't see you/your naked body

literally made him want to do it more

his little wire hairs??

tug on them.

he loves hair pulling

(If you're a girl)

he loves your boobs

no reason behind it

mm squishy and warm

Aftercare is crazy good

above and beyond in any situation

Bath, food, drinks, you name it he'll do it

he loves you dearly, so really, whatever he does in bed doesn't ACTUALLY reflect himself as a person fully.

he loves u

[tygoii]

Sub Scaramouche x Goddess Afab Reader Smut

Warning: Dacraphilia, Dom Afab Reader, Brat Scaramouche, Boobsession, Edging, Collar, Cockwarming, Humiliation

♝

“Oh please i’m gonna fuck you up you’ll be begging me to stop” said an indigo haired short boy “..You wanna challenge me?” said a woman who opened her eyes showing her eyes pupil shaped four pointed star shaped “Yea because you keep ignoring me every time thinking your better only because your a god!” said Scaramouche his face red due to anger the woman sighed “and if i win what do i get?” said the woman she stopped floating and her heels touched the ground she was taller then the boy “Ha really im in the status to being a god myself!” said Scaramouche smirking the woman sighed “Brat.” said Y/n “What did you say.” said Scaramouche “I said your a brat seeking for attention.” said Y/n looking at the short boy the indigo hair boy mumbled something making the woman smirk “I’m sorry i couldn’t hear you from how short you are” said Y/n “Are you changing the subject so you don’t have to fight me how pathetic.” said Scaramouche “Oh you were being serious?” said Y/n she summoned a sword and pointed it at Scaramouche “Gine if that is what you desire.” said Y/n Scaramouche smirked summoning a catalyst “Don’t worry if you want me to stop just beg.” said Scaramouche he raised his fist and electricity surrounded Y/n bolts shot out Y/n raised her hand suddenly the bolts were gone she threw her sword at Scaramouche nearly hitting his face but only made a small cut on his cheek Scaramouche groaned he summoned more electricity at Y/n she hits the boy with a energy bolt Scaramouche fell on his knees he looked up seeing the woman standing unfazed “I won little boy.” said Y/n smiling the boy blushed for some reason he felt some kind of excitement built up “I won i get to choose anything~” said Y/n she

bent down to scara and she had a leash in her hands Scara whimpered feeling Y/n’s hot breath on his neck “I wonder what the harbingers would think about you on your knees so needy for attention isn’t that the reason why you wanted to fight~” said Y/n Scara’s cheeks were red and he was trying to protest but the only thing that came out was a whimper “I-i don’t wanna go out in public like this!..” whined Scara “Well that’s what you get for challanging a goddess” said Y/n the boy’s head fell onto Y/n’s chest and muffled cries could be heard “No no no!” said Scara he looked at Y/n hoping she would have mercy “Don’t look at me with those eyes now let’s get going if your a good boy i’ll give you a good treat~” said Y/n the boy stopped complaining but had a frown on his face he teased Y/n’s nipple making her whimper she looked at the boy before pinning him to the floor “Ok that’s it wait til we get home.” said Y/n.

♝

“P-please hiccup ahh! m-mommy!” Scara was babbling he wanted to cum so bad but every time Y/n felt he was close she would stop teasing him “I told you to behave but you didn’t listen” said Y/n rubbing his red tip “y-you f-fuckin— hng!” Scara couldn’t even form a sentence he was to busy feeling Y/n’s tight walls hug his dick “P-pweees! Y-y/n” Scara kept begging for release but Y/n wasn’t having it Scara tried thrusting into her but he was tied by some kind of barrier Y/n pulled on his leash making him stop “I-i swear when i gwet my h— hah!” Scara felt Y/n’s pussy tighten around him “Well it’s been a hour i guess you do deserve to cum~” said Y/n she started riding Scaramouche’s dick making him whimper and roll his eyes his chest marks glowed purple before coming inside her Y/n snapped her fingers Scaramouche was soon released and he hugged her laying his head on her soft tiddies and giving kitten licks “Now don’t challenge me again i will have you babbling nonsense.” said Y/n Scaramouche nodded his eyes closing and cuddling closer to Y/n still inside her.

[bloofinntoona]

A Whisker Away

Word Count: 4.4 k

Themes: major fluff, a lot of friendship, sebastian sallow x f!reader x ominis gaunt

Summary: your transfiguration spell had gone wrong - you were stuck as a cat for the day. it wasn't bad, after all you get to spend time with your friends in a new perspective - even you get to confess to the boys that you had been harboring feelings for.

So bright.

You blinked a few times, adjusting to the blinding sunlight shining through the trees in the courtyard. Everything was brighter and clearer. Your body felt significantly lighter and nimbler. The grounds felt rough and hot. The spell works! You tried to yell, but what came out from your mouth was a loud "Meow!"

"It's not a difficult spell, Y/N." Professor Weasley smiled, her motherly aura was always comforting. She was very patient in teaching you some basic spells that were already taught in the first four years of the Wizarding School. But alas, you only had a couple of years to catch up before your N.E.W.Ts.

A year passed after the Ranrok incident, you've aced your O.W.Ls, and you've made great friends along the way - especially your unbreakable bond with two infamous Slytherin boys. The three of you were inseparable, and the school knows that. However, on that specific day, Professor Weasley asked you to study the Transfiguration spell by yourself. Conveniently, Sebastian and Ominis also had to do their assignments.

You found yourself in the middle of an empty courtyard, wand ready in your grasp. You imagined a black feline cat, similar to a cat that your family had back home in London. With a gentle swish of your wand, a blue light sparked, surrounding you as you quickly shrank down, and soft black fur covered your whole body. 

At least it works, you thought, Now I just need to get back to my human form. To your horror, your head blanked - no memory of how to do so. You eyed your wand, raking your brain as to how to actually hold the stick and cast the Untransfiguration spell. You started to panic, especially after hearing a hoard of footsteps approaching the courtyard. You hesitantly bit the wand, strutting to a hidden spot just behind the bushes, and set your wand there. Hopeful that it would stay hidden until you transform back into a human. 

The experience wasn't as bad as you thought, you received a lot of compliments and pats from the students. You finished your class schedule for the day anyways, so no Professors would be worried about your whereabouts. 

In the corner of your eyes, you spotted a small girl, hunched by herself. Zenobia Noke! You thought. It was the girl that you helped finding gobstones all over the school. You felt bad, really, even though she was a bit odd, she didn't deserve to be ostracized for a mere game. You made your way to the girl, earning a sincere smile.

"Oh, hi kitty!" she beamed, patting your head. "Want to play with me?"

You meowed in response. It's not like anyone is looking for you at the moment. 

"Great!" Zenobia chuckled before going on about the game rules. You were slightly bewildered why this girl would go that far for a cat, but you shrug it off. You knew the rules obviously, being coerced to play by none other than Sebastian a while back. Somehow Zenobia wasn't suspicious that a cat was pretty deft playing the game, even winning once against her, spraying a God-awful stench towards the poor Ravenclaw.

"I've never had this much fun in a while," she giggled, even though she smelled horrendous, "I must say goodbye though, good cat. I need a shower."

As she left you, she shouted, "I'll see you again, Gobby!"

You were amused by the name, Zenobia was an odd girl after all, but she wasn't as bad as you thought. I guess I'm Gobby now. You chuckled to yourself.

As you were walking past the hallway, your nose picked up an interesting smell - a mix of marshmallows, grass, and burning rubber. Not long after, you heard a loud BANG!, followed by a massive purple smoke coming out from the male's lavatory. A few first-year students ran out of the premises, shouting as their bodies were covered in what seemed like purple dust. You shook your head, surely it was the fault of a certain Gryffindor boy. 

You marched into the bathroom, finding Garreth Weasley leaning against the bathroom wall, coughing his lungs out. You dimwit, what did you do this time? You wanted to say it out loud, but all you could do was utter another Meow. "Hello?!" he jumped, "Oh, it's just a cat." He laughed at himself, crouching down to pat your back, which was now littered with purple dust.

"You see, I'm in a predicament here." The redhead looked at what seemed like a destroyed toilet stall - or whatever was left of it. A cauldron filled with a sorry excuse of a potion was placed on top of the toilet, different rare ingredients (not sure where he got them from) scattered all over the floor. "I was testing my greatest invention. But you know what they say, there is no success without failure."

If you were in your human form, you most likely already had your face buried in your palms. You don't even remember the day when Garreth succeeded in his "inventions". As you were looking around for the cleaning supplies, the door bursted open, revealing another redhead - Leander Prewett stomped into the room, face red filled with anger.

His voice was calm in comparison to his visible veins popped on his temples, "I knew it was you again when I saw those poor first-years covered in purple dust!" he crossed his arms, "Do you know how many points had been taken out of Gryffindor because of you?!"

Garreth put his hand up and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry?" He sighed loudly, "I'll clean it up before anyone else noticed. Really. Plus, this little cat here will help." Garreth winked at you.

You groaned internally, the sheer audacity of this man. "Oh, I didn't see you there." Leander flashed you a smile, also giving you a gentle pat on your head, "Sorry you had to see this, cat, but we need your help in saving Gryffindor's house points." He gave Garreth a vicious side-eye, "Would you help us sneak into Professor Sharp's storage room so I can steal a jar of Blatta Pulvereus?"

You nodded, forgetting that you should've acted like a normal cat: not understanding human gestures. The two Gryffindor students just shrugged, probably too deep into their plan of cleaning the mess before anyone else noticed. Garreth decided to stay and tidy up as best as he could, while Leander took you in his arms, striding towards the Potions class. "The plan is simple. I'll sneak you in through a small opening on the wall, and I shall tell Professor Sharp that my pet cat wandered into the room. He'll give me permission to go in," he grins mischievously, "Unlike Weasley, my records are squeaky clean."

Leander paused for a bit, the silence was a little awkward if you had to be honest. You never had the chance to talk to Leander a lot, your Slytherin friends often made unsavory remarks towards Prewett, and you weren't surprised since there was an unspoken tension between the two houses. "Since you're a cat, I'll be truly honest," his voice was low, almost inaudible, "I appreciate my friendship with Weasley. He's a menace and a serial troublemaker, but he always makes me laugh. He was the first person to say hi to me during our first year - and guess what? They thought I was a Weasley too!" he ended his confession with a laugh.

Leander and you arrived at the potions class in no time. He let you down, pointing towards a small hole leading into the storage room, perfectly fitting your nimble body. You gave him a meow and sneaked into the room. You overheard the brief conversation between Leander and Professor Sharp, the man was definitely too tired that he approved the request right away. In no time, the door clicked, and Leander winked at you. He grabbed the Blatta Pulvereus jar in a jiffy, stuffing it in his pocket, and scooped you up again in his arms. Leander thanked the Professor, who replied with an obviously annoyed grunt.

“Nice job, cat!” Leander grinned widely, “I think you deserve a name - Ginger!” He laughed at his own joke, “You might have black fur, but you can be the third member in our redhead trio.”

You meowed loudly in response, it’s definitely a better name that whatever Zenobia came up with earlier. The two of you practically ran back to the lavatory. “Just the people I wanted to see!” Garreth greeted with a toothy smile, “You took your sweet time… I had to pretend I had a terrible bowel sickness to make sure people stay away from the bathroom.”

Leander was visibly disgusted. “Whatever, here, work your magic.” He handed Garreth the ingredient. The Gryffindor boys quickly spray it all over the purple residue, promptly diminishing any proof of Weasley’s “failed” experiment. The boys high-fived each other, and they both gave you pats, “Welcome to the redhead trio, Ginger,” Leander and Garreth laughed, “You are more than welcome to join our, more legit, adventures next time.”

“Oh, I bet Ginger is hungry!” Garreth pulled out a black-ish jello from his satchel, “I made this super food that makes you not hungry for days- Wait!”

You walked away quickly from the two Gryffindor boys, I will definitely die if I eat that, you thought, shivering.

Garreth’s remark about food did make you realize you haven’t had anything since breakfast. Your stomach started to rumble, signaling that you need some substance if you have to continue your journey. You were busy thinking about how to find some sort of human food that you didn’t realize you’d bumped into a pair of legs. You looked up, Poppy Sweeting and Natty Onai! You were relieved to see your closest female friends.

“Such an adorable creature!” Natty mused, picking you up and hugging you close. You purred, Natty always gave the best hugs.

“Poor kitty,��� Poppy added, patting your head, “I can hear your stomach grumbling! You must be hungry. I have some animal treats in my satchel if you want!”

You meowed loudly in protest, hissing at the Hufflepuff girl. She was taken aback. You felt sorry, but you were sure your good friend would understand if she knew the situation.

“Looks like our little friend wants something heartier and fancier,” Natty smiled,” We are planning to visit Hogsmeade for a little shopping spree. But looks like one of our friend forgot.”

You blinked, Merlin’s balls! You totally forgot that you promised the girls for a little trip to Hogsmeade. You felt bad, truly, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t tell them that you were stuck in the body of a cat. You were sure Natty and Poppy would understand, but-

“I knew Y/N forgets about us!” Imelda barged in, face visibly grumpy. Oh no, Imelda will skin me alive for this. 

Poppy held her hands up, “Calm down, Imelda, I’m sure Y/N is just busy with her schoolwork. We’ll ask her why tomorrow.”

“I’m sure she’s busy with Sallow and Gaunt!” Imelda huffed, “It’s hard enough to get us together these days… I just wanted to spend time with my girls.” Now you felt worse. You had a lot of schoolwork, but you did spend more time with Sebastian and Ominis these days. The two boys were pretty much hogging your time. You made a mental note to hang out with your girlfriends more - after all, they were always there to listen to your worries and gave more compassionate advices compared to the boys.

“I agree with Poppy,” Natty smiled, “I’m sure Y/N has her reasons. Let’s go to Honeydukes anyways. Plus, we have a stand-in over here.” The Gryffindor girl held you up to Imelda, who greeted you with a head scratch.

“Fine. Let’s go!”

With you in Natty arms, the three girls grabbed a handful of floo powder and set their destination to Hogsmeade. A green flame enveloped the students as they immediately transported to the middle of the small town. The courtyard was bustling with vendors, students, and shoppers. They hurried off to Honeydukes, with Imelda leading the charge. She rushed to a quaint table next to the window, the group’s favorite spot. 

“A pumpkin pasty for me, raspberry cake for Natty, blueberry muffin for Imelda, and a meat pie for our new friend.” Poppy brought their orders to the table, setting the meat pie on the ground for you to eat. You gobbled up the pastry in no time, you knew you can depend on your girls.

Imelda poured tea for the three girls, while she set a cup of milk on the ground. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “There is a specific reason why I asked you all to meet me today.”

The other two girls looked at her intently. You jumped onto Poppy’s lap, I’m not missing this! You thought. To your dismay, Imelda’s face was blushing red. She leaned in as the other girls did the same, “Everett Clompton asked me to be his girlfriend!” Her voice gradually went higher as she finished her sentence.

There was a short pause as everyone processed the information. Your jaw hung low in shock. “Oh dear, I’m sorry- Ouch!” Poppy yelped as Natty pinched her side.

“...And I assume from your giddy reaction, you said yes?” Natty smiled widely.

Imelda slowly nodded, “Yes, I did.” she whispered.

The group erupted in cheer, as they got glares from other customers. The girls laughed. “Congratulations, Imelda, you’re the first one in our group to be in a relationship!” said Natty.

“Ha! And you don’t count whatever Y/N have with Sallow and Gaunt as a relationship?” Imelda laughed, sipping her tea. What do you mean?! You meowed, frustrated that you were the topic of the conversation, even though you can’t say anything to defend yourself. “They are inseparable these days. I tried to ask her for Quidditch tryouts, but Sallow was all up in her space.” Imelda added.

“It’s pretty amusing to see how she is so oblivious,” Natty giggled, “I swear I saw Gaunt’s smile disappeared completely whenever Y/N talks to other boys, except for Sallow, of course.”

You were flabbergasted. Were you that daft? Sure, you harbored special feelings towards your closest friends, but you were too scared to speak up. The friendship that you shared together was like a treasure that you held close to your heart. You would rather bury your romantic feelings deep in your heart to not spoil your friendship. 

“Our dear cat is tense,” Poppy hummed while she stroked your back, “Hush now, it will be alright.” You purred and leaned back against her hands. You really wished you could vent your frustrations to them right now.

“So, Poppy, Natty,” Imelda eyed her friends, “Any gossips from your ends?”

The other girls and you looked at each other. Natty took the lead and shook her head, “Not for me,” she laughed, “My mother will skin me alive if she even thinks that I’m in a relationship while I’m still in my studies. Plus, I’m not rushing anything.”

“Cheers to that.” Imelda held out her tea cup, clinking it against the others’ cups.

“I..” Poppy paused, blush crept up her face, “Samantha Dale was being really nice to me.”

Natty and Imelda grinned, and you meowed loudly, “Go on.” Imelda wiggled her eyebrows.

“She’s probably nice to everyone!” Poppy quickly added, voice louder than before, “Plus, she’s so focused on her studies, I don’t think she even thinks about these things…”

“I think she’s just a nerd.” Imelda joked, earning a kick on her shin from Natty, “I’m sorry! I was just joking!” she sighed, “You should go for it, Poppy, if you don’t stay true to your feelings now, you will regret it. I am very sure of that.”

You took Imelda’s words. Their conversation seemed to drawned out by the thoughts in your head. Maybe Imelda was right, you should have stayed true to your own feelings and confess to Sebastian and Ominis. Will they think it’s weird for you to have a crush on two people at the same time? You raked your brains, not realizing that it was time for the group to head back to Hogwarts.

They returned to Hogwarts with another handful of floo powder. The girls bid their goodbyes as they took turn patting your head. “You’re a part of the coolest group in Hogwarts now,” Imelda laughed, “We’ll call you… Chamomile. Just like the delicious tea we had earlier.”

“I still wished Y/N was here.” Natty and Poppy sighed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give her a good smack when she’s back!” Imelda nodded her head, smiling mischievously. 

You laid down on your back at the astronomy tower, looking at the array of stars decorating the night. The tower was the place that you often went if you wanted to find an empty spot to think. It was always cold, but you had never gotten tired of the beautiful night sky. The conversations you had with the girls were echoing in your head. You barely saw Sebastian and Ominis that day. Are they worried that you’re not around? Do they not care about you anymore? The two Slytherin boys plagued your mind. Maybe it was better for you to stay as a cat so you didn’t have to deal with your urge to be more than friends with them.

Suddenly, a pain from your tail shot up throughout your body. You let out a loud shriek, your body instinctively jumped back, fur stood up, and you hissed at the boy who accidentally stepped on your tail. 

“Merlin’s beard! I’m so very sorry!” Amit dropped his scrolls, repeatedly apologizing for stepping on you.

Apology accepted, you meowed. You purred against his leg to show him that it was fine, and you understood that it was a mistake. He sighed and crouched down, patting your back.

“I’m sorry, kitty, I’m usually alone here.” Amit gathered his belongings and set down his books and scrolls on the table with a loud Thud!

You looked at him in awe. Amit was a diligent student, but you had never thought that he would stay up late to study. You jumped on the table, sitting down next to him as you scanned the books - all of them related to astrology.

“You don’t mind if I study here, don’t you?” Amit laughed, scratching your chin. You meowed in response, as if you were trying to say it’s alright.

“Well, even if you don’t understand, It’s nice to have a study mate.” He smiled, pointing at a cluster of star in the sky, “That’s Ursa Major, and that one is Draco… wait no, that is a Leo minor! And that one on the far right is Pollux.”

He sighed, “Do you know why I like stars, kitty?” he leaned back against his chair, setting his telescope down, “They are always in groups. Even if in reality they are far apart from each other, from our perspective, they look like they are never alone.” 

The Ravenclaw student smiled bitterly, “I missed my family,” he whispered, “It was hard for me to move here alone. My parents and siblings are currently living in India, so it’s so difficult to see them during breaks.”

“I tried to make friends, but they are hard to come by,” He sighed, but his smile came back again, looking at you, “But you are a good company and listener.”

You are my friend, Amit! You screamed out, resulting in a series of loud meows. He chuckled, “You are a smart one, aren’t you?” he tapped his chin, “I’ll call you Taara - it means ‘Star’ in Hindi.”

You meowed gleefuly, it was the prettiest name anyone in the school had given you so far. “I bet not a lot of students will understand that,” Amit chuckled, “It’ll be our little secret!”

Before he could continue, the doors opened. “I think it’s Professor Shah,” Amit said as he picked you up, striding down the tower and put you down in front of the classroom, “Sorry, Taara, Professor Shah isn’t too fond of animals in the Astronomy tower,” he frowned, “I’ll see you again soon!” 

Amit waved his hand as he retreated back to the tower.

Gobby, Ginger, Chamomile, and Taara.

Today was beyond eventful. It was almost time for the night curfew, and you were still stuck as a cat. Your limbs were tired from walking around the castle. A big part of you were grateful of this mishap, as you were able to get to know your schoolmates better. Although you spent your day with other students, you haven’t met the two people you were looking for.

“Ah, such a pretty cat.” You were startled at the sudden complement. You jumped back, eyes wide as you stared at a boy clad in shirt and long pants, a green Slytherin tie adorned on his chest. His auburn hair kept tousled. A huge smile formed on his freckled face. Sebastian! It’s me! You yelled on top of your lungs, still resulting in meows.

“A loud one, for sure.” A chuckle left another boy behind Sebastian. His eyes were light grey, as they were reflecting a cloudy storm. His hair was still neatly combed. The tip of his wand glowed, casting a beautiful red light against your black fur. 

Sebastian gently picked you up, holding you close in his arms. You hoped that he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was thumping. Surely, they don’t know about your situation, right? You inhaled his scent - cinnamon, musk, and a tinge of burning wood. You shamelessly curled up to him, purring as you did so. You felt Sebastian’s chuckled, “Looks like this cat is tired.” He gently stroked your back.

“Let’s bring it back to the common room,” Ominous replied, closing in to Sebastian as he slowly moved his hand, tracing your soft fur, “We have cozy fireplace and warm milk for our little friend.”

You heard the sound of fire crackling and warmth against your skin. You contorted your body as you found a comfortable position the pillow. As you blinked your eyes open, you were laying down on a pillow on top of Ominis’ lap. The two Slytherin boys were sitting on the sofa next to the fireplace. Sebastian was lounging with a book on his hand. Suddenly you were washed with sadness. You never felt safer than this moment, just with Sebastian and Ominis, the two boys that you cared for the most. You closed your eyes again, too cozy to wake up.

“You know, I haven’t seen Y/N today,” Sebastian muttered, eyes still glued to the book. Your ears perked up as they started to mention your name.

Ominis sighed, “I know, I’ve been worried sick. I hope nothing happened to her.” You found it hard to rest as your heart was beating faster. They were worried about me! you thought.

“I think she will be fine,” Sebastian hummed, “Y/N is smart, and strong to boot. I know she’ll be alright no matter what opponents or tasks she’s facing.”

“I agree. That’s why I find her so… beautiful.” Ominis added. With that sentence, you jolted up. Your heart and mind were in a jumble.

Ominis’ fingers caressed your head, “Sebastian, the cat is awake.”

Sebastian sighed in content as he closed his book, tossing it to the side. He walked closer to you, scratching your chin, “Did you have a good rest?”

You instinctively purred. Sebastian and Ominis chuckled at your reaction, “So adorable.” said the auburn haired boy.

“You know, Sebastian,” Ominis added, still stroking your back, “Since this cat wil probably stay with us for a while, should we name her?”

Sebastian nodded, smirking, “I have a name in mind…” He crouched down to meet your gaze, “How does Y/N sound?”

You stood up, meowing loudly. They knew?! Your emotions were mixed up; panic, embarrassment, and a bit of anger for not helping you earlier. 

“Hold on now,” Sebastian laughed, “I’ll help you.” He took out his wand and gently tapped your head. The same blue light reappeared around you as you turned back into human in a split second. You examined your fur-less fingers and grabbed onto your uniform, “I’m back!!” you shouted, pumpking your fist as if you’ve won a match. Realization sinked in as you heard the boys snickered. Your face immediately went tomato red as you felt Ominis squirmed underneath you. You scrambled away from his lap, curling in the corner of the sofa and hiding your face behind a pillow.

“...Just let me disappear.” Your voice was muffled behind the pillow.

Ominis was the one who stopped laughing first, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I genuinely thought it was too adorable to see you as a feline.”

Sebastian rubbed the tears from his eyes, “Oh, I agree, as much as I felt bad, I was enjoying it.”

You tossed the pillow at Sebastian, “you could’ve helped me earlier!”

Sebastian caught the pillow, setting it aside, “I’m sorry! Truly. But I did get you back, didn’t I?” he winked.

“How did you both know it was me?” You asked, still hitting Sebastian and Ominis with whatever pillow you could find.

“Y/N…” Ominis impressively dodged the hits, “We’ve spent everyday together, how could I not feel your aura even if you’re not human?”

“Oh, and here you go.” Sebastian handed your wand back, “Did the professor not tell you to keep it safe?”

You huffed as you calmed down, “Thank you. I mean it. I was scared I was going to cough up hairballs at some point.” You twiddled your thumb, blush spreading your cheeks, “Were you both… Looking for me?”

Ominis let out another laugh, “We were panicking around the castle,” he coughed, “Well, Sebastian panicked around the castle. He almost asked the Headmaster for a search party if I didn’t hold on to his collars. On the other hand, I am searching for you calm and collected.”

“Lies. He almost cried.”

Ominis’ face turned sour as you laughed at their antics. You held out your arms and hugged the two close, “Thank you, again, you both are always there for me.”

“It’s because we love you, Y/N.” Sebastian sighed in content as he stroked your hair.

Ominis placed his hand on your back gently, “You are the most important person in our lives.” A gentle smile plastered on his face.

You looked up at them. Their confessions were stern and confident, but your heart leapt as you saw how red their faces are - sincerity evident in their expressions. You hugged them even tighter, “I love you both so much.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The DUFF 4

Warnings: groping, insecurity, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

The prospect of doing your walk of shame is intimidating. You try to plot how exactly to skulk home as you search for your panties. It’s the only piece you’re missing. You have your skirt on, your shirt, bra, even both your shoes. Goddamn, they couldn’t have got that far.

You grab your purse and check inside. Of course they’re not there but you want to make sure you have everything. As your keys jingle noisily within, Curtis pokes his head out from the kitchen. You didn’t even realise he was in there.

“Off already?” He asks, “I was just about to start breakfast.”

You stop short as you look at him. That’s not exactly how these things work, is it? You clasp your purse shut and let it dangle from your elbow.

“Breakfast? Well, uh, I guess…”

“I don’t mind. You like smoothies?”

You remember all the times Stephanie complained about a guy sticking around too long. Or how Isla called her last boy toy a stage five clinger because he wanted a kiss. Were you doing this all wrong?

You meet his eyes. A cornflower blue so soft and pale you could sink into them like water. It’s an innocent offer. You feel bad just racing out but it seems just as awkward to stay. Still, you feel like you owe him.

“Sure,” you answer, “I like smoothies.”

“Bacon? Oh, shi–oot, you vegetarian? I got tofu, too.”

“Bacon’s fine, really,” you assure him, “is there anything I can help with?”

“Help? No, no, you’re a guest, just… sit down and relax. I’ll take care of you, bunny.”

You mull over his insistence. He’s being a good host but you can’t help but wonder why. He’s almost too nice to be true. Are you missing something?

“Everything okay?” He startles you as he touches your arm gently. You can’t help but wince.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, “it’s fine, I just… I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Not at all. Please.”

You can’t argue with him. Not when he’s being so nice. You can’t complain for the night you spent with him. What’s another hour?

You retreat to the living room and take out your phone. You still haven’t heard from the other girls. That’s not really unusual but it’s not often you split up for the night. You typically keep a sort of buddy system. You feel a bit forgotten.

You sit on the couch as you scroll then pause and look down. You remember last night, right in this spot. You swear you can feel him still, hear his sultry growl as he coaxes you. You still can’t believe it. 

You never thought you were the one to fall for sweet words, yet you never had the opportunity before to prove that true. You melted like sugar at his first touch.

The blender whirs, followed by the noise of his cooking. You tuck yourself into the corner of the couch and try to distract yourself with a game of solitaire. You’re hungry but almost too nervous to eat. You’re not sure you’ll even be able to keep any of it down.

He emerges with a tall glass, a dark purple smoothie that he places on the table next to your elbow.

“I hope you don’t mind blueberry. Guess I should’ve asked.”

“It’s fine, thanks,” you assure him.

“Anything else?”

“No, no, that’s good.”

“Well, let me know. Anything you want, bunny.”

You smile and nod as you lift the smoothie. There it is again; bunny. It’s adorable but you’re not too sure about it. Pet names aren’t entirely warranted after a single night. You think. You need to stop acting like you know everything because quite clearly you’re clueless.

You sip through your straw as he goes back to the kitchen. You flick your finger up and close the card game. You can’t even win against yourself. The smoothie is delicious. You nearly drink half of it before you catch yourself.

You set the glass down on a wooden coaster and steady your phone. You flip through your contacts; Stephanie, Isla, Mindy… You should text them, make sure they’re okay.

“Here we go,” Curtis interrupts your indecision.

You put your phone down, tilting it on the popsocket as you look up at him. He carries in two plates and places them on the low coffee table. He stands and glances around.

“I have TV trays. Sorry, I’ve been tryna get outta this place. Somewhere a little more roomy.”

“It’s okay, really. My place is tiny compared to this.”

“This one’s yours,” he takes a plate and a keeps the cutlery from slipping off, “hope you like sunny side up.”

“It’s wonderful,” you affirm.

You admire the sliced avocado and the rye bread. The bacon looks like it’s turkey and his own plate only has egg whites. You can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. You don’t often have such a healthy breakfast.

You balance the plate on your lap and grab the cutlery. You get yourself situated and your phone buzzes loudly as he sits beside you. You glance over at your phone and quickly swipe away the call with your finger. You’ll call them back later.

You go to slice into your eggs as Curtis clears his throat. You focus on carving out a small bite, not enough to make you seem piggish.

“So, who’s Andy?” He asks.

Hsi tone carries an unexpected edge. You peek over at him then shake your head. You’re confused.

“That’s who called. Boyfriend? He’s okay with you going out?” He prods tersely as his knife hits the plate sharply.

“Boyfriend?” You laugh anxiously, “no, I don’t— he’s my boss. Probably had a call-in.”

“Ah,” he nods and you hear his breath, each one measured. You don’t know why he’d care enough to ask.

[maaneskin]

GOODBYE, MY PEACE. inarizaki vb team x f!reader, 1.1k

note, this is not serious in the slightest — it’s also old

“no,”

“please!” the boy with the newly dyed blonde hair, smiled brightly, nodding his head up and down. right behind him was an identical face but with newly dyed gray hair instead of the blonde atsumu had chosen. he – atsumu – was most definitely not using the purple shampoo you got for him after the dye job; his hair was more yellow than blonde.

despite popular belief, osamu was not less annoying than atsumu. sure, osamu was quieter, more laid back, and usually let atsumu take the lead in whatever stupid activity they had come up with, but he was not any less annoying, “(name), please,” his voice was also deeper and had a more nassaly tone to it.

watching the two do their best puppy dog eyes to you in an attempt to get their way, was somewhat amusing but also somewhat annoying, “i don’t want to be your manager… again,” your time in middle school was spent watching the two idiots you called your best friends play volleyball and somewhere during your second year they convinced you to become manager for the boys volleyball club. you did have fun, though you would rather be set on fire than admit that. watching them play, watching them score and win brought you deep satisfaction.

atsumu tried again, pleading with you to, once again, become manager for the boys volleyball club, “aran wants you to join too. you love aran,”

you paused, “i do love aran,” ojiro aran had more than once been your savior for when the twins got out of hand and you didn’t feel like dealing with them. he was all around a nice guy with a kind heart. one of your most trusted companions.

“please,”

“i don’t know,” you sighed, tilting your head.

atsumu clapped his hands together, “please. we won’t fight for the rest of the week!”

you raised an eyebrow as osamu stuffed his hand in his pocket to pull out his phone, “what day is it today? thursday, we can do that,” the brothers made eye contact, having a mental agreement. they both nodded, “yeah, we can do that,”

“no fights until next thursday! and i’ll think about it,”

they both grimaced but nodded, shoulders hanging low. you rolled your eyes, “you’re so annoying,”

“she’s talking about you,” osamu taunted his twin. atsumu, as predicted, began throwing a tantrum, “she was talking about us both!” osamu put his hands behind his head and began walking away, knowing the blonde would follow, “you’re the annoying one, so it was about you,”

you sighed deeply, watching them leave the vicinity with loud voices. one thing about them was they never failed to entertain you. you muttered that it was about both of them, but they were too far away to hear you. atsumu turned back around and yelled for you to meet them at the gym after school, to which you gave a lazy wave and walked in the other direction.

the miya twins weren’t all that bad. despite how you act most of the time, you treasured them both deeply and were happy to have them in your life. you didn’t regret talking to the teary-eyed boy who had been looking down at his fallen onigiri for ten minutes straight. he had been somewhat unconsolable, having removed his tears but still in a sad mood. at least until you offered him some of the stirfry you had in your lunchbox. apparently he had never tasted anything better, for the next day he was by your side when the second lunch was called and didn’t leave you alone until lunch was over. with starry eyes, he asked if he could have some of your food and in return you could have some of his. (“my name is miya osamu!” he introduced himself with his mouth full of food, you could barely understand what he was saying). he later introduced you to atsumu and they never left you alone since then.

that did not mean you wanted to be manager again. it was a lot of work all the time and being around sweaty high school boys seemed more and more like a nightmare the more you thought about it.

you had half the mind to ditch them and just go home instead of going to the gym, but when thinking about the consequences of doing that, you decided against it. with a filled out club application in hand you headed for the gym. maybe you could convince the coach to reject your application. you gasped, stopping in the middle of the hallway, “i’m a genius,”

—

“please let me be manager, i’m a huge fan of the miya twins!”

kurosu norimune, head coach of the inarizaki’s boys volleyball team, looked taken aback for a moment and then sighed heavily as if this wasn’t the first time he had heard those words today. it probably wasn’t, given how, even as first years just out of middle school, the miya brothers’ were already popular.

“(surname) was it? we really can’t–”

“ah, (name), you’re here?!”

most times you consider ojiro aran to be a blessing. he and you formed a special bond from having to deal with the miya’s. but right now, he was more a curse than a blessing. what if he fouled your super genius plan of not becoming the manager for the boy’s volleyball team.

“coach, sorry for interrupting you!” he bowed in an apology, “i just hadn’t seen her in so long,” he explained, scratching the back of his neck.

“you know her?” kurosu asked, taking a second look at your filled out application.

with a horrified expression, you, subtly but rapidly, shook your head, mouthing the words ‘no, you don’t’. he was going to expose you.

“yeah! she’s close friends with atsumu and osamu, so we’ve met many times before!” he smiled.

you closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

kurosu looked back at your defeated face. the situation turned over in his head and he barked out a laugh, “i take it you’re not actually a fan?” he asked you, finding amusement in your inevitable doom.

having already accepted that you’re not getting out of the situation, answered him honestly, “i’m more of a hater if anything,”

he laughed again, “i’ll consider you for the manager position then, (surname),”

“please don’t,” you muttered under your breath. he left after asking a few more questions and you directed your attention towards the guy who was apparently praying for your downfall.

aran smiled sheepishly to you, “sorry?” he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but it felt like doing so would be the best course of action.

“you should be,” you snapped, “now i have to deal with dummy one and dummy two again,”

the male had half the mind to say you were dummy three. while you knew how to restrain yourself most of the time, you had your moments when your intelligence dropped to the lowest and you joined the twins in whatever bullshit they had going on.

“i’m going to die, aran,”

he chuckled, patting your shoulder, “it won’t be that bad,”

[sorbeau]

hi its me again i feel legally obligated to ask about your thoughts on the new riz design (but also extends to al of the other new art for the bad kids too!!!)

HI SHOKO sorry this took so long to asnwer, it feels a little late to the party now but I have lots of thoughts and this has been in my drafts for a hot minute so I'll break my thoughts down in order <3

Fig

GOD DO I LOVE FIG'S DESIGN. It hasn't changed too drastically in many ways, it's largely the same beats with the plaid skirt, leather jacket, biker gloves, and docs, but there's a lot more detail pertaining to her character now. Ayda's feather earring is abviously a huge win, everyone loves to see it, but I love the small details like the added wallet chain on her skirt, the added ear piercings, and her painted nails. If I had to choose something I didn't like, it'd be the color of her shoelaces, which isn't a huge deal bc you know spyre might have different cultural beats, but it's very reminiscent of punk doc lace codes, which were a way to sort of factionize yourself among punks. Fig wears one purple and one red, and traditionally purple means gay pride(which is great and i would've picked it for her too) but red usually means you allign yourself with neo-nazi's and similar groups which. is definitely Not Fig. It's not a HUGE deal but, maybe some more research could've been put into it.

Gorgug

Gorgug's new design is so. Perfect. Amazing. Spectacular. No notes. It's exactly the changes I wanted to see. The goggles, the dirt-covered face, the ripped jeans, the bags and tools, the gloves, the most disgusting worn pair of convers you've ever seen. It's absolutely amazing and the artist has managed to bring all the beats we loved about his original design(his extremely fashionable purple pants) and mixes them perfectly with all of the new facets of Gorgug's personality that have changed and grown theough their adventures. A little detail I love is how the color of his headphones has changed to match with the rest of his outfit better, creating a more cohesive design with the introduction of more red/maroon tones. This was always a little bit of an issue with the old design for me. The colors sort of didn't go together.

Kristen

She's going through a break up. She's at the most chaotic she's ever been and she's trying to fix it. It is so genius to make her jacked. The bright yellow tracksuit is beautiful and exactly something Kristen would buy and wear every day. Plus the tiedye purple sports bra tying in her old church camp shirt aesthetic is brilliant. I'm mourning the loss of her sandals, but the matching shoes to her tracksuit can't be complained about. Not a whole lot to say, I'm excited about how this design will change and reflect her growth this season! Praise Saint Kristen Applebees!!

Adaine

THE ELVEN ORACLE IS COOL NOW!!! I love her jacket, all the patches and the toned down fur lining is absolutely perfect. I also love the cool strapped bags on her hips and legs, it's just a really cool adventurer addition cementing her as a bad ass practical caster. Her entire face seems more assured and relaxed, which is absolutely amazing for her and reflects how her resting state is no longer as addled with panic and anxiety as it used to be. Her hair also seems a lot more her! Not sure how to describe it, but it seems like she's focusing less on keeping herself perfect, and more on just keeping herself, herself! Not very big design swings or changes, but she doesn't need to change, she just needs to be true to herself. (Also. a huge fan of her cool magic circle shirt.) My only gripe. Give her blue hair. And pronouns. And glasses pretty please.

Fabian

That boy is the future of dance!!!!!!!!!! I love the color palette shift for his design, it's a really great way to show how he's grown out of Bill's shadow and embraced his own passions with the grey tones with red and gold accents. Also a huge fan of the fancy robed pants, tons of great movement lines and something a dancer would totally wear. On the same note however, I feel like it doesn't really go with the rest of his outfit. I love how the changes made are geared towards movement and dance(his shoes changing from sneakers to dance shoes is great) but I feel like the changes are all sort of mismatched? The dance shoes look a lot like tap shoes, but the pants look more big and flowy, better for a more leaping and running style of dance, and his jacket has almost nothing to do with dance. It's delightfully artsy and detailed, which is so chic and Fabian, but the shapes of it don't really match up, and especially without a clear view of the front it makes him look like he's wearing half of a matador outfit. I would've loved to see a more dramatic silhouette without the use of the battle sheet(which is absolutely perfect, no notes) with either lots of flowy parts for movement, or a sharp jacket with skinnier pants for that exaggerated silhouette. Again, I think this is really all due to a lack of research, but the spirit of Fabian is still in the room with us. The colors are great, the bandages on his hands are perfect, and the fanciful element is very on point, just needs some better shape language and cohesiveness.

Riz

There he goes, he's gone from gritty detective to gadget-heavy superspy. I LOVE the character choices that Murph made for Riz, he's become even more of a loser and seems a lot less hard and fast, and more generally passionate. In freshman and sophomore year, he was entirely goal oriented, completely focused on completing his mission and solving the mystery, this time around he's still got a mission, but because he can't do it all himself, he's sort of given the opportunity to branch out and explore himself. This is all to say, i love the insufferable loser hipster kid that he's become. He is truly the trinket goblin of all time, I love all his wild little gadgets and jewelry, and all the extra arcano-tech screens on his glasses are brilliant. I'm also a huge fan of his torso gun-holdster, which is a beautiful homage to his detective nature. The undercut is also obviously perfection. The loser teen-boy urge to cut away your beautiful hair for a nerdy undercut is so painfully lore accurate that it's one of my favorite details. It's probably because he's a dork. but I would love to know why he has rolled up pants and no socks. What is that. Why would he do that. ALSO STOP BEING A COWARD D20. GIVE HIM DIGITIGRADE LEGS AND A TAIL. CAT GOBLIN TRUTHERS UNITE!!!!!!!!!!

anyways that's probably the end of my rant for now. I love the bad kids and overall their designs are great. constantly wishing all of my headcannons were real but understanding that the cannon will never relent.

[din-miller]

Hey, I humbly ask for the bad batch x femreader (separately) who has muscles? Like she's super insecure about them because she feels like she can't wear anything nice because she looks to bulky?

Fluff or smut it's up to you!

❤️

Ooohhh that’s a cool ask. I’ve never really had toned muscles so this was a challenge to do in a sense that I don’t have those insecurities about my body. Hopefully for those badasses who do, I didn’t completely fumble this ask.

Insecurities Get Us All, Just Thought You Should Know

Pairing: The Bad Batch x Female Reader

Words: all together is 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, implications to sexy times, Crosshair’s is spicy, insecurity, female reader, talks about how women should be soft and feminine for male pleasure, ugh, our boys will step on those men

A/N: unfortunately after spending two days thinking about how to do Echo’s part, I gave up. He will be missed. Crosshairs part is maybe (?) a little rough around the edges but I really struggle with his character. Tech loses the ability to speak with big words because you know, women with muscles leave us speechless. Dividers by @saradika

WRECKER

You stare at the dress in your hand – if you can even call it such – and wonder if you could get away with murder; more specifically the murder of one trandoshan.

While you tend to hate the missions she sends you and the Batch on, this one definitely is on top of the hatred list. You turn the dress around, eyes taking in all the straps that make up a complicated crisscross pattern, a poor excuse for a back. The dress is floor length, more elegant than daring, looser than fitting but it’s sleeveless.

It’s not ugly, the deep shade of purple is stunning to be honest. It’s just that, well it highlights the part of yourself that you keep hidden under baggy clothes. Your arms have always been an issue for you. Out of all the boys only Hunter and Wrecker’s arms are bigger than yours. The former just barely.

You were admittedly scared at first when the boys saw your bare arms. You had expected them to judge you, make fun of you, but instead they asked about your workout routine. It mostly involves saving their asses and a hundred pushups before bed.

They let you feel free to unapologetically be yourself, muscles and all. But this isn’t a hot afternoon or a Sunday swim. This is a stupid mission to a sneezy cantina.

A knock at the ‘fresher door startled you. Cid had allowed you to use her private fresher to change. The only people who’d be knocking is her, Omega, or the boys.

“One second.” You call out realising that you’re still standing naked in the room save for your undergarments.

You get to work changing, slipping the dress over your head before realising that was a mistake and you’re now stuck tangled up in the fabric. You try wiggling your body, shifting your arms as much as you can but nothing proved helpful. You’re one hundred percent stuck.

You must have made a noise because the knocking is back followed by a concerned voice, “Everything okay in there?”

Wrecker.

Sweat, loving, Wrecker.

Wrecker who playfully challenges you to arm wrestling matches despite knowing he’ll win every time. Never once making a stupid comment like if you were a man you’d be able to beat him. Wrecker, who has never made any negative or cruel comments about your appearance.

Wrecker, the man you’re oh so helplessly in love with.

The man who has never seen you in a dress, who has never once seen anything bare except your arms. That’s about to change now ‘cause there is no way you’re going to be able to get unstuck without ripping the dress. So, you swallow your pride; “I think I need help-,”

“Help? Are you hurt? Wait there, I’ll go get Tech-,”

“No, I’m not hurt. Well maybe my pride is a little,” You grunt, trying to free yourself because honestly this is not how you imagined Wrecker helping you with your clothing. No, he’d be taking them off, not putting them on, “I’m stuck.”

“Oh,” Wrecker clears his throat, sounding lost, “Do you want me to come in?”

“You can, but I’m sorta…” You frown, trying to figure out the best word, “Indecent.”

Wrecker cleared his throat again, this time a little louder, “Oh, you’re naked. I can go get Cid.”

“No! You send her in here and she’ll be coming back out in a body bag,” You warn him, completely truthful, “And I’m not naked, I have underwear on. Look it’s okay, I can get one of the other boys-,”

“Yeah, that’s not happenin’.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m going to unlock the door. Is anyone else out there?” You ask, unlocking the door for him, a little awkwardly as you can’t move your arms without your entire upper body going with. You had to bend at the waist and blindly find the doorknob.

You hear shuffling from the other side, footsteps coming closer until they stop just shy of the door. You can see the silhouette of Wrecker’s boots, “No, just me. ‘sides I wouldn’t let anyone see ya half dressed. Bad enough some besom is going to eyein’ you all night like you’re some slab of meat.”

Your stomach turns unpleasantly at the thought of being subjected to lust gazes all night long, so you push away all thoughts about the mission and the foal men before they can consume you. One fear at a time.

You relax your arms, making sure you don’t flex. Good practice for tonight you think bitterly and move away from the door to let him in. He was quick, door closing hot on his heels. You avoid his gaze, not wanting to see the look of disgust as he takes in your muscular body. Thankfully nothing private is showing, leaving you with some modesty.

Your hands are stuck in the air, trapped by fabric and straps, the gown part of the dress is bunched up around your waist, leaving just enough fabric to cover your private part.

You keep your eyes on the wall in front of you as you try to ease the awkward tension in the air, “Didn’t Hunter ban you from using such foal words?”

“Only in front of Omega.” He replies, stepping in close and his fingers trail down your arm, from your elbow to your shoulder where the straps all twist together.

The first brush of his fingertips against your shoulder blade has your knees going weak. His breath is hot against your neck as he asks, “Got a reference to how this is ‘posed to go?”

“Oh, yeah I think the package had one actually,” You half-blindly search for the package before handing it to him, “Here.”

Wrecker studies the picture for a few seconds before giving a small ‘aha’, “I think I understand.”

His hands are back on you, warm and welcoming as he works in silence, occasionally grunting when a finger gets tangled up in the straps. In those moments you snort and he gently pinches your side in response.

Either the dress is more complicated than you originally thought or Wrecker is going at a snails pace – almost like he’s milking the closeness and skin on skin contact for all its worth. You hope it’s the latter and you’re not hopelessly reading into the way his fingers are caressing your skin even though the task at hand doesn’t call for such loving touches.

“There, all done.”

“Thank you.” You give an experimental wiggle of your shoulders to make sure the straps stay in place for tonight before rewarding Wrecker with a kiss on the cheek before thinking better of it.

Realising what you had just done, you hastily turn away, missing the dorky awestruck expression on his face, and in your turn you catch your reflection and oh.

Your arms, well, they’re not hard to miss. Your eyes are drawn to them, impossible not to see. You don’t necessarily hate your muscles, they’re what have kept you alive. You don’t survive a war ridden galaxy by having noodle arms. It’s just seeing them on display like this, for people to see and judge you, mock you, it’s too much.

If it wasn’t for your arms you’d actually consider yourself attractive in this entire – or at least attractive in the eyes of men.

The rest of the dress is flowy, with a little support for your breast, but other than your arms it highlights no other muscular features your body has. Still you try to make yourself appear smaller, more feminine, but it’s not working and your stomach is starting to turn again unforgivingly.

In the mirror you catch Wrecker taking small steps towards you, “Any chance you’ll let me know what’s going on in your head, mesh’la?”

You give a deep sigh, “Cid picked the wrong person for the job. Slap some lipstick on Crosshair and he’d get more attention than I would. How am I supposed to seduce anyone when I look like a hairless lasat? The moment I step foot in the cantina all eyes will be on me but none of them will see me, you know?”

The corner of Wrecker’s lips tilt down, sadness brief in his eyes before he shakes his head and pulls you back into his embrace, taking you by surprise but you melt against his chest all the same.

“You know what I see?” His arms come to wrap around you, hands locking together over your stomach, “I see strength. Arms that are strong to carry your kin to safety. I see warmth and comfort; a safe place to rest, to be held. I see a strong beautiful woman. I see you.”

You gasp, eyes wide and locking onto Wrecker’s for a split second before turning in his arms and pulling his head down to catch his plush lips in your own. Wrecker lets out a startled noise before moaning softly against your lips, arms wrapping around you to pull you in closer to his body.

His mouth separate from yours for a brief second and mirth colours his next few words, “If you need help taking off your dress-,”

“Oh, I will.”

HUNTER

You flop yourself in bed, body aching in every sense possible. You hadn’t even done much. A simple supply run, nothing too demanding of your body but lo and behold your leg decided to cramp up and you did the entire walk back to the ship trying your best to mask the limp you took with every step. If Omega had seen you struggling she’d immediately call Hunter and Hunter would get Tech, who would tell Wrecker to carry you back to the ship, where Crosshair would be waiting seemingly indifferent about your pain but he’d hover over you nonetheless.

It would be an absolute shit show.

So you hid the pain until you got back to your private bunk, or the small storage room that has been rearranged to house you, you should say. Your plan for the night is to sulk away and hope the cramp eases up through the night.

The worst part is that in your hurry to get back to the ship and lay down, you forgot to stop and restock the ship’s supply of heat packs. Something that would most certainly come in handy right about now.

A knock comes from the door and you groan. The last thing you want right now is company. Knowing that shooing whoever it is away would only result in the entirety of the Batch piling into your room to make sure you're okay, you have no choice but yell for them to come in.

Hunter – of course it’s Hunter – peeks his head through the door before stepping all the way in, “Hey, can I come in?”

“It’s your ship.” You point out, straightening yourself to sit up properly on your bed.

“We both know it’s Tech,” He laughs, stepping into your room, face turning serious for a moment, “Omega said you were walking funny earlier. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You should know by now that you can’t hide anything from me. You also should know that I don’t like it when you try too. We’re an allit, which means we take care of each other.”

“Even if that person in dumb and forgot to get supplies that could actually help them manage the pain?” You ask, self blaming as you start massaging your leg. No point in hiding the cramps now.

“Especially then,” Hunter states before dropping down beside you. He shifts himself until his back is against the wall, sitting himself upright before laying your legs on his lap, “Crosshair gets really bad cramps. I learned a long time ago how to rub the knots out. Allow me?”

Hyper aware he can feel your muscles under his fingertips you hold your breath waiting for a comment that never comes. His fingers tuck themselves under the hem of your sweats, rolling them up the slightest as he asks, “May I? It’ll help if I roll your pant leg up so I can see the knots clearer.”

You swallow around the lump forming in the back of your throat. May he? Could you push away your fear of judgement to receive help? Your legs are the most muscular part of your body for you were raised in a small village, no public transport, everything was in appropriate walking distance from your house. And now running with the Batch you’re on your feet more than ever. Always trying to stay one foot ahead of imperials. It’s no wonder why your leg is throbbing.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter's hands leave your leg, “I obviously overstepped.”

“It’s fine,” You say meekly, willing your body to relax in his embrace. He gives you a look and you sigh, “Truthfully, my legs are seen as unattractive in some beauty cultures and I don’t feel like hearing snide comments right now.”

“Unattractive?” He repeats, brows drawn together as he takes a second to sort his thoughts. His lips eventually purse together briefly before nodding slightly, “You are incredibly well built, it’s something I find admirable about you. You’re fast, saved our asses a few times in battle because of these muscles in your legs, and that’s not to be taken lightly. I don’t know what ‘beauty standards’ you were raised with but I find your body to be very attractive, mesh’la.”

You study him for a minute, “You’re being honest.” It’s not a question, more of an observation and you are a bit taken back, “It truly doesn’t bother you that I’m built like a lasat?”

“A lasat? I wasn’t aware you only have four toes.” The amusement in his tone has you rolling your eyes. His hands return to your leg and he gives a reassuring squeeze, “If you allow me to continue, once I’ve got all the knots out, I’d love to take you out for dinner and maybe afterwards I could show you just how attractive you truly are.”

You grin, laying your head down in the crook of his neck as you watch his hand slide your pants up, “I’d love nothing more.”

TECH

“You should not have done that,” Tech scowls at you, arranging the necessary medical tools, “It was reckless and could have been avoidable.”

You’d wave his scowling off if the action didn’t cause your body to scream in protest. He’s right, you could have totally avoided showing off your impressive speaker skills – or at least not fail at jumping that ramp.

It could have been worse. The scanner picked up no broken bones, just a deep laceration on your stomach and some small ones paired with bruises that’ll bloom into some nasty colours. You had shredded your pants in the crash too, the fabric now hanging loosely in some places.

Tech sets his jaw and orders you to lift up your shirt, “I need to flush your wounds before applying any bacta.”

Panic floods your body, “No.”

Tech brows rose ever so slightly, just visible above his goggles, “No? What do you mean by no?”

“No, I will not lift my shirt up.” You will not allow him to see your less than feminine body. Will not face the hard truth that the man you’re crushing on is repulsed by your body. You would not survive it.

Tech, oblivious to your inward panic plainly states, “You do realise that in order for me to stop the bleeding and clean the cut so it doesn’t get infected, I need access to the wound?”

Honestly, bleeding out is better than Tech seeing your stomach. You don’t necessarily have abs, not like Hunter. You’re built more like Wrecker; big bodied. Far from soft and delicate. Never feminine like the girls in the holo movies.

Tech gently lays his hand on your arm, tilting your head up with his other, eyes holding yours hard like his next words are the most important he’ll ever say, “If you’re afraid I may try to take advantage of you in your undress state, I can call one of the boys-,”

“No!” You yell, desperately needing him to know that’s not true, not even close, “That didn’t even cross my mind. I trust you, Tech.”

His body relaxes at your words, “Then I see no reason for me not to clean the wound.”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth and admit defeat. You pull your shirt up enough for the wound to be visible but not high enough for Tech to see your chest band. Your body is tense, awaiting an insult that normally comes by now. But instead Tech makes a noise at the back of his throat, an audible swallowing sound followed with a quiet ‘oh’.

You don’t dare to look at his face.

“I’m sorry.”

Tech doesn’t try to gain eye contact this time. He gently wipes away the dry blood flaked on your skin, “For pulling the stunt or getting hurt?”

“For worrying you,” You softly say, tone apologetic, “And for you having to stare at my stomach. I’m sure you could be spending your time fixing the ship or watching holo videos of twi’lek.”

Tech blushes at the last part, “I don’t indulge in such videos. And while I do find twi’leks’ pleasing to the eye, my ‘taste’ is, well,” His eyes linger in your bare skin, darkening a little when you flex your stomach, “You. Not just your body, but your mind, your personality. You’re beautiful, strong, caring. Any man would be lucky to have you as a partner.”

“Any man?” You ask, lips turning up, finally meeting his eyes. You lean in close to his body, taking the medical equipment from his hands and set them aside, “Does that include you?”

Tech adjusts his goggles, lips holding a shy smile, “Most definitely.”

There’s a dull ache in your stomach when you lean up to kiss him but you don’t care. The softness of his lips and the way he draws in a sharp inhale makes it worth it.

CROSSHAIR

“You have to be kriffing kidding me!” You huff, kicking the side of the dryer, “Echo said he fixed this blasted machine.”

Behind you came a snort, “He did. That’s him fixing it.”

You raise a brow at Crosshair, “Not helping.”

“Wasn’t trying too,” He quips, toothpick switching from one side of his mouth to the other, “You could borrow one of our shirts. Wrecker’s would be too big for you and Tech is very picky about his clothing.”

“And Echo’s are specially designed to regulate his body temperature. I’d sweat to death in the first hour.” You sigh, that leaves you with two options: Hunter’s or–

“Take one of mine for the day,” Crosshair says, deciding for you as one of his shirts hits you straight in the face, “Oops, I was aiming for your chest.”

“Sharpshooter my ass.” You grumble under your breath and wait for Crosshair to turn away. The clone raises a brow, smirk on his lips as he cocks his head, gesturing for you to start changing. You give him the middle finger as he finally turns away from you, mumbling something under his breath about missing a good show.

Bastard.

You take off the shirt you’re currently wearing, nose scrunching up at the stench soaked into the fabric. You easily manage to slip your head through the neck hole but as you insert your arm into the sleeve you realise it’s much tighter than your baggier clothing, leaving you with a challenge. You eventually get both arms through but when you pull your shoulders forward a loud rip sounds through the small corner of the ship.

Crosshair’s ears twitch and his head turns a fraction to the side, not fully able to see you, “Did you just rip my shirt, cyar’ika?”

That’s a question you’re afraid to find the answer to. Nonetheless you slowly lift your arm up and wince at the slight breeze you feel on your skin. You bite down on your lip, eyes shifting to the hanger door and you wonder if you could escape without Crosshair catching you.

“Don’t even attempt it,” Crosshair huffs, “I’m going to turn around now.”

You stand frozen, holding your breath waiting for him to snap at you or worse, make a snide comment about how a ladies arms should never be bigger than a mans.

Crosshair's face holds no telltale sign of what he’s thinking as he take in the ripped fabric and the places where the hems are starting to come apart at the seams as your muscles threaten to rip the fabric even more.

His eyes go dark and he starts walking towards you, following as you take steps back until your back presses against the wall behind you. You swallow audibly, unsure of how this is going to turn out, “Crosshair? You have every right to be mad-,”

His left hand slams against the wall beside your head, palm flat on the wood whilst the other hand comes to your arm and squeezes the muscles over your shirt.

“If you wanted me to look at your arms you could have just told me and saved a good shirt from being ripped,” He chided, hand slowly trailing down your arm, “I see fear in your eyes, none of that, cyar’ika. I’m not like those osi’kovid who feel threatened by the strength of a woman.”

His legs nudge yours apart, leg slipping into the gap he created and presses his thigh against your core. His fingers slip under the bottom of your shirt – his shirt – to pull it over your head but the fabric doesn’t bunch, seemingly glued to your muscles. With an annoyed grunt Crosshair tears the shirt down the middle, no longer caring about seeing if it’s salvageable.

“A woman like you should be worshipped,” He whispers into your ear, teeth grazing against the flesh, pulling a whimper from you. He pulls back, a cocky smirk on his face before he’s dropping to his knees, “Allow me to taste you, to feel your strong thighs squeezing around my head as I bring you pleasure a true man could only hope to achieve.”

Your head is spinning; everything is happening so fast, your pussy begins gathering arousal between your folds as Crosshair breaths promises against your clothed sex. His words are unlike him, different from anything you’ve heard before. No snappish tone, only plain lust.

Of course, Crosshair is Crosshair, and the next second his eyes dance with mirth as his fingers slip under the band of your pants, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fucking that shock look off your face soon enough. Bend you over all surfaces until you're drunk on my cock, begging for more.”

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 6

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here.

I found out Charlie and Way's superpowers last week from the tags on my post, so let's pray those blue gloves Babe just gave Charlie stop him from -redacted- and lying.

Wait a minute! I thought that was a flashback. Barbara is racing too?! Now, I'm confused about the plot because I thought the team needed to fill Babe's spot, but . . . they need a third racer? Is this you rethinking the plot, Barbara? Or did your special superpowers heal you already and you're thinking about letting Charlie win? But you didn't have superpowers last week. What is happening?

Dean, I know you are going to screw everyone over because you now have to race Charles AND Barbara, but you are already sitting in the red. Damn, sir. No need to spoil the plot development.

Babe won, so what was with all those *looks* from him? And I want to hate Way, but he is the only one who is feeling like me as Charlie's RED IS EXPOSED! Dean, go ruin everyone's life. You have my permission.

Alan, you have tattoos, and you are the only man I trust in life and love, so I'm gonna ignore these red gloves. Not every show can be Wandee Goodday and get color-coded boxing gloves.

Charles wore Babe's black in episode three after sleeping with Babe, then Babe got the picture of Charles getting into the red car. I want to trust Charles and this color exchange, BUT HE IS LYING!

I wish the cards could have stayed in Thai. I did not need to know Alan was apologizing to Jeffrey as he sits there in blue, with that red bag and red smoothie (it's pink, but I'm seeing red, dang it!). Don't throw out those cards, Alan. Jeffrey is gonna need them when he has to apologize for LYING all this time!

CHARLES AND THAT DAMN RED!

Barbie. Stuck between the blue and red. He deserves better.

You know what makes a sky look purple like that? Blue and red. Which is really odd, SINCE BOTH OF YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE BLUE, CHARLES!

It's turning pink! STOP HURTING MY FEELINGS!

No. Putting Barbie in glasses will not make up for the pain I just suffered.

To go from that locker room scene to Waymond looking so sad only for PETER TO BE WATCHING HIM IN THE PINK TOO! I knew they were gonna be an item, but Peter, my man, have you loved Waymond for a while?! Did you know him before you shook his hand and that's why you hesitated? Patricia, I have questions!

Yellow is my favorite color, but, Sonic, why can't you wear blue? I know you like North. You are protecting him right now. But just wear more blue beyond that small stripe on your shirt, so I can trust you!

Jeffrey is back in the red, Alan. Get out now or he'll take you "home" aka Big Red's house that he doesn't know how to get to without the GPS because it's hard for liars to keep track of all their lies.

I won't be crazy and mention the red house showing through the window behind Charles. No. Never.

What do you see, Jeffrey?! That your roommate is gonna break Barbie's heart?!

My God, this episode is laying it on thick with Charles constantly in the red. I get it! He is lying! I KNOW!

Waymond just had to remind me his ass is red too. You're lucky Peter has been in love with you for a minute apparently because I like Peter. But you, sir, are on thin ice.

Did Charles post that picture?! (Sonic, wear blue damnit!)

Barbara, you're fucked up. It's clear that Waymond loves you, and you pull stunts like this. Rude. Selfish. Let the boy brood in peace. You make me feel bad for him, and I don't want to feel bad for him because I know his superpower now, and he keeps trying to touch you.

Every now and then, the show must remind me that Barbara was originally red.

Are you conflicted, Waymond? Because this purple is telling tales that you are in-between the two. Where do you stand, Waynette? Blue or red? TELL ME RIGHT NOW!

Wait a minute!

Before he was a Slut for Christ, Barbara gave you the steering wheel necklace?!

Fuck! Waymond, no! Turn away from the red, bruv! DON'T GO FULL DARK SIDE!

PETER LOVES YOU!

But eff Charles!

Jeffrey has red on again. Someone is dead under that car, so since he is talking to Charles and there are only two drivers now (is Babe still driving or no?), I'm hoping he saw Charles dead and not Waymond. Can I get a Christmas miracle?!

KIMBERLY, MY BELOVED! Please go collect your husband, Kenta, and fuck Big Red up!

In short,

I'm conflicted about Waymond.

I want to know how long Peter has loved Waymond.

I need more of the Kardashians, Kimberly and Kenta.

I still hate Charles because the show is constantly telling me he is red.

I'm happy there was no Whiny Winifred.

I'm okay if Dean messes up everyone's day.

I need Jeffrey to grovel to Alan when his time comes.

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

“You have to tell me why were committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.” For Jesper x Reader??

For you my beloved anything, but especially Jesper content are YOU KIDDING ME this man understands the assignment.

It's All Bad Choices From Here On Up Baby - Jesper Fahey

Content Warnings: Gambling. Guns. Canon Compliant Threat And Violence. Jesper Being So Unbelievably Sexy All The Time. No Beta/Proof Reading.

You pull the card up from the flat of the table and it looks easy, it looks effortless, it looks entirely like you're playing the game as you should be. But Jesper spots you, from the bar, and that coy smile of his almost makes you lose your concentration. You're not cheating, at least that's what you tell yourself, it's not cheating if everyone else at the table is cheating too, it's levelling the playing field.

"Gorgeous you want to let me in on this?" Jesper whispers close to your ear as he takes a seat next to you. His words warm against your neck send a chill through you, and you know he did it on purpose, trying to throw your attention, trying to bring it back to him.

"Not a chance, I am winning," you say, giving him a playful grin.

"I am your good luck charm," Jesper argues. You look him up and down, he is wearing that purple waistcoat with the metal buttons and his smirk is all too enticing, it's that look in his eyes that gets you though, today, not unlike most days, Jesper is looking for trouble. You will not let the tables be the place he finds it though.

"Tapping out," you say, collecting your winnings. Jesper lets his smile slip for a moment, clearly disappointed you won't let him play, but he quickly perks back up again once you cash your bets.

"Couldn't let me have one game?" Jesper asks.

"No," you say, "house always wins Jes," you remind him, "besides the way you're tapping those feet, you have a reason for saddling up next to me, besides my charm."

"Do I need a reason gorgeous?" he asks, stepping closer to you as you both walk. His flirting is normal, it comes as naturally to him as breathing, and you don't hate it.

"What's the job Jes?" you ask, eager to pull the answer from him. He slips his hand down, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, his skin is cool against yours, even in the night air. He pulls you to the side and you stare up at him, not understanding his motives at all.

"You're going the wrong way," he tells you.

"I don't even know where we are going," you remind him, shaking free of his grip and giving the mans jacket a playful tug. "You still haven't told me."

"Well, it's just a usual evening," Jesper says, his smile bright even in the dingy light of the Barrel, "Kaz wants us to do a small job, you know, some bribery, a little breaking and entering."

"No breaking, just entering," Wylan says joining the fray.

"Merchling," Jesper says, not sparing the boy a glance, "didn't know you were here for this."

"I am here to prevent the breaking part," Wylan explains, fumbling with something in his bag.

“You have to tell me why were committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

"Someone has been causing trouble for Nina-,"

"No need to finish," you wave a hand at Wylan, no one messes with Nina Zenik.

"You know that's not why Kaz asked us to do this, right?" Jesper asks Wylan, "it's more about the giant sum of Kruge that he owes Kaz."

"Sure," you say, "it's about that."

Kaz was as unwilling to admit to his attachments as you were willing to admit you liked Jesper more than the playful flirting you both had going on. So needless to say, very much.

Jesper stops in his tracks and you're delayed in stopping, eyes not on the path but on Jesper, and Wylan catches the look. Wylan was not blind, he was one of the most observant people you knew and knowing Inej and Kaz Brekker, that said a lot. But there were things certain people are more inclined to notice than others. Wylan, who for all his doubts still believes in love, he sees it where it's hiding, even if it's hiding well, and you aren't sure it's hiding well.

You look at the house and you wait for Jesper to tell you that you're taking the sewer route from here, or anything more plausible or appealing than this being your destination. "That's a... that is owned by a member of the Merchant Counsel Jesper," you say staring at the harsh metal gates in front of you.

"Yes it is," he confirms.

"Tell me this isn't where we are breaking into," you say.

"This isn't where we are breaking into," Jesper says.

"You're lying," you state, the annoyance in your voice clear.

"You told me to tell you, so I did," Jesper says, "I'd do anything you asked of me when you ask like that."

You want to quip back with something equally flirty, but the looming threat of the nights plan is overriding even your fluttering feeling in your chest when he flirts with you like that. "We will not be given another job if we mess this up," you say confidently.

"We don't need to worry," Jesper says finally.

"We don't?" Wylan asks confused.

"No because if we fail this, Kaz is going to kill us, and dead people don't need jobs," Jesper says, "you ready for this?"

"Am I ready for this?" you ask yourself. "Not really, but no one messes with our Nina."

Wylan pulls a strange grey compound from a folded piece of cloth out of his satchel and starts tearing off sections to hand to each of them. "This should be able to get you through the locked doors without breaking any of the mechanisms, it'll leave a trace obviously, but it won't cause damage so that's one less thing to worry about," Wylan explains.

Jesper frowns looking at the strange grey putty in his hand. "I still hate this plan," Jesper says, but you can see it again, that thrill in his eyes he gets when he is excited. He spins his guns over, one, twice, and a third time before re-holstering them, a little way to release some of that eager, nervous energy before we have to be more tactical. "So gorgeous," he smirks at you, "what are you doing after this?"

"Well, assuming we don't die and we don't get caught by the Stadwatch," you grab a hold of one of the metal spikes on the gates side, pulling yourself up and over in one swift movement, so you stand on the other side of the gate, smirking through at Jesper as you finish, "I think you'll be buying me a drink."

Jesper chuckles. "Trying to get me drunk?" he asks.

You laugh. "Why would I need to do that when you'd do anything I asked of you dead sober," you say, turning away from him and heading up the garden.

"Does Kaz really hate me this much?" Wylan asks, opening the gate with one hand.

"Probably, but why?" Jesper asks, watching you as you walk ahead, a million thoughts he think he should keep to himself swimming in his mind.

"Because this whole third wheeling thing, it feels like a punishment."

[mandy-asimp]

You’re all mine

pairing: lady lesso x fem!reader

summary: Y/N was meant to be an Ever, but what happens as she becomes a Never?

warnings: death, teasing, fluff(ish)

a/n~ how many times ive watched this movie just for her is actually baffeling.

Y/N walked through the hall. There had to be some mistake, right? She was born and raised good, so how is she being handed dark reds and purples?

She walked quietly to her dorm. Thinking she would have some people to get to know. But when the door opened, it was empty. Shocker.

The girl Placed her very few things down. Skimming through the different dresses that would suit her side more. Finding a short dress that had ruffles all over the skirt. Grabbing the wooly black cardigan.

She skipped over the entire main hall, especially after the questioning stares she received.

After all, Y/N didn't care if she had friends or knew any of her professors or even her dean.

The girl changed and made her way to the grand room that held the welcome ceremony. Which she wished she didn't have to go to. But alas, she made her way through the building.

And it wasn't bad, really. Until the doors opened. Everyone turned to look to see who walked in. Gasp erupting from the Evers and the Nevers scoffing.

Y/N didn't belong where she was put.

It was even worse when she looked to the dean and professor. Professor Dovey looked shocked, and Lady Lesso...well she looked like she just got told she was teaching the Evers.

Y/N felt uneasy at all the unwanted attention. Even as she at down in the far back, she still had the attention.

Thankful for when the the Ever's boys came in. Dragging the attention of the entire class. They did their little show, and then Tedros came down. Giving Y/N her perfect escape.

She didn't know where she was going to go, but she just enjoyed wandering. And after hours of just roaming, she did eventually get lost. And then lost turned her day into night. Where did she run off to? Which way was her dorm?

That's when she noticed herself in the woods.

"Shit," she mumbled to no one. Or she thought there was no one.

"Aaah, so the Ever Never is lost!" A low voice hummed. Getting Y/N to look around confused. "I didn't think you could even speak!"

Y/N was scared. Terrified even. Her only plan was to run. Which she did. Her boots breaking branches and crushing leaves. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision to the point she missed her step and blacked out before meeting the ground.

~T.S~

Y/N shot up. Her room still only her. Her eyes lazily found a clock. Classes started in half an hour. Giving her only time to really just change and lightly fix her hair.

Where for the next twenty minutes she tried to find her class. Getting looks when she walked into the room. Taking the desk in the back and not saying anything.

The red haired dean walked in, and never in Y/N's life did she wish she was anywhere else as much as she did then and there.

"Defense class, my favorite! Either you're going to end up in the infirmary or you'll come out on top. That choice is yours!" Her voice was cheerful to watch this day. "Hort! You're first!"

A boy with black hair got up. Smiling when the thought of this would be easy. Until a guard walked in. His smile dropped in a blink.

That's how the class went. Student after student. Most winning and only a few failing.

"Never Ever! Head out the clouds, it's you're turn." Lady Lesso let her voice carry. Bringing her back to reality. "Defend or be end!" She smirked.

That's when Y/N noticed the open circle in the middle of the room. But without question, she stood in the middle of the room. Her outfit on full display for the room.

That's what she wanted to believe. Not the fact she was in the wrong school. She believed it was the ruffly belt around her snug maxi dress. The dull red corset being her the reason for her lack of air.

The guard stood almost twice her height. His teeth bared and his sword ready for battle.

"Go!" Lady Lesso boomed. Waiting for any move to be made. Her eyes trained to how scared Y/N looked. Her smile growing as the wolf charged.

The two danced around with Y/N getting a few scratches. It was getting repeadative. "For Hell's sake! Just kill her!" Lady Lesso scoffed.

Y/N panicked when the wolf lunged at her. But without thinking, Y/N closed her eyes.

And when they were open, she stood covered in blood. Her vision was in all black and white and everyone was gone. She could hear her name being called over and over.

"Y/N! Back down immediately!" Lady Lesso ordered. Her hands both wielding magic. "I'm serious! You've proven enough to me!"

Y/N looked down. She found everyone. The guard was dead on the ground and everyone was backed into a corner. She stared then to her feet. Closing her eyes once again.

And when she opened again. She was the last one in the room. Tears fell from her eyes.

"Y/N." Lady Lesso called. She had just walked back into the room. Closing the door behind her. "The objective was defend. I told you to stop and you didn't. Not to mention you broke a very big rule."

"I'm sorry." Y/N whispered. "I c-closed my eyes, I don't know what happened."

"I don't know if this can even be covered. The class is terrified of you and soon so will everyone." Lady Lesso completely ignored the student. "They're going to kick you out."

Y/N looked up. Meeting the dean's eyes. And the concern and worry made her break. She ran off and straight into her dorm.

~T.S~

"She hasn't been seen since. She's missed almost a week of classes. I don't think she meant to do it." Lesso sat in the room with all the other teachers and The School Master.

"She killed someone none the less! That's one of your schools biggest rule!" Dovey retaliated. "She's a danger to us all!"

"She apologized and ran out crying! A true Never would relish in a kill. She's punishing herself. I don't even know if she's eaten once. She has no roommates, no friends, she's a Ever placed as a Never." Lesso brought up the the self-quarantine. "She truly means no harm. She just can't control it yet."

"Well, our only choice is to put her on trial. I'm sure the roles are clear. We'll bring in a mix of former Nevers and Evers to be our jury. Either they decide it was a harmless accident, or they decide it was on purpose." The School Master concluded.

Lesso huffed, but she was the first person out the room. Making quick pace to Y/N's dorm. Knocking on the door aggressively. Finding the door already unlocked.

"Y/N." Her voice carried through the room. A small hum dragging her attention to the open balcony. The green eyes wandered through the dark, picking out the girls figure sitting on the railing. "We need to talk."

"I'm leaving...tonight..." Y/N spat out. Jumping down from the rail. "I'm not going to fit in anywhere."

Lesso sighed. "You can't leave. We met and agreed that you'll get a trial. If the jury decides you didn't mean it, you stay."

Y/N shook her head. "I can't stay. I'm nothing but a murderer. Nobody will like me even more. After all, I'm the Never Ever."

There was a silence engulfing the room. Lady Lesso watched carefully as Y/N packed what she brought. Grabbing her by the arm as she tried to walk past.

"I...can't let you leave. Y/N you don't understand what power you showed me. You need to be here to learn how to control it. So, even if I have to sit her and block you until the trial, then so be it." The red head let her go, only slightly pushing her back.

And it would've been a normal fight, until Y/N crumbled to the ground and started crying.

Lesso stood for a second, not knowing how to handle this, but she was going to try. She was going to try her absolute hardest to help her.

~T.S~

The year had flown by. Then the next. And the next. Then finally it was Y/N's last year.

Over each year she witnessed a lot. The schools unite from two readers, a Nevers ball, a Evers ball, and she finally had a few friends.

Y/N thought she would be home and have a lot of explaining to do, until she was told she got the privilege to be a teacher. It would only be an idiot to reject the offer.

Lady Lesso had delivered the news to her. Which only surprised her when Y/N threw herself to hug the woman.

They had become extremely close over the years. It wasn't a shocker. Someone had to become responsible for Y/N if she were to stay. Lesso took that role. Having a hint of hope for the girl.

And they both, in the end, were glad Y/N stayed. She learned so much from her mentor.

Like what it feels like to be in love.

But of course, it would only be a silly, measly, school girl crush. A lot of people fell for the beauty of evil. God, was she beautiful.

"Thank you for everything," Y/N pulled back. Her eyes seeming so innocent in the light. "I literally couldn't have done it without you."

"Of course, dove. And because of your history, they're creating a class specifically for you to teach. Powerful Defense. You'll teach the students who have extreme powers. It's almost like an advanced class." Lesso hummed. "You'll do amazing."

A silence fell between the two. They just start longingly at one another

The other professors watched the interaction from afar. It was obvious the two were practically married without knowing it. And was it getting boring!

So, when Dovey walked by, she shoved past Y/N on 'accident'. Pushing the two incredibly closer.

Now they were centimeters away from kissing. Their warm breaths brushing past each other. They weren't moving. In that moment, it was only them.

"I..." Y/N whispered. She wanted to form any sentence.

"Come on, use your words princess." Lesso teased. Smirking at the intense blush.

Y/N couldn't breathe. How was this woman so calm?!

Stammering and stutters were all that Y/N could form. "Aww, look at you. Going all dumb for me." Y/N closed her mouth and stopped the noises.

"It's just you're so...so..." Y/N trailed of her sentence. Getting lost in the hands that squeezed her hips. Increasing the force when the sentence stopped. "So attractive!" She spat. Panic taking over her.

"Oh, you are just too cute for evil. It's why I adore you, always boosting my ego." She narrowed her eyes. "I'm gonna kiss you now."

"In front of everyone?!" Y/N shot her eyes open. Catching the nod.

"I'm gonna let them know you're all mine darling."

[ceilingfan5]

it's gotta be arcade carpet, I will start a fight and I do not care if I win that fight, even though I will win that fight. I want to draw blood, and Taako

"I hate him," Taako says, with feeling. "I hate him so bad. I want him to be naught but purple viscera traumatizing onlookers. You get me? Like, am I being clear enough?" He dips his pretzel passionately into the communal cheese and gets that succulent plastic nacho sauce all over the tray and his hand. He scowls and sucks his fingers loose and Kravitz thinks, not for the first time, him, huh? This is where I've laid my affections?

"For sure," Kravitz says calmly instead. He slides Taako a napkin.

"His strategies are garbage from a toilet, he has no flair, he cheats, I fucking know he does, I don't know how but I Know he does-" Taako huffs and chews his pretzel. Kravitz props his head up on his hand, looking at the jewelry store behind them, and the poster in the jewelry store with the deliriously happy gay couple, and he like, knows, okay, he knows all the diamond things and the capitalism things and the marriage things. And targeted advertising and rainbow bank icons. But listen. What if, is the thing.

"You could find another place to play?" Kravitz suggests, already knowing the answer. But Taako is in a ranting mood, and wants to get the magma out of his system. Kravitz is happy to divert the flow. It's certainly more interesting than going back to work in fourteen minutes.

"Obviously I'm not going to run, Krav," Taako scoffs, mouth still full. Nasty <3. Kravitz has it bad. It might be infectious, how bad he has it. Limbs falling off. In twenty years they'll be like how did the zombie apocalypse start? And no one will answer, because everyone will be gone of zombieism. The end. "I'd rather kill him."

"Noo," Kravitz says, laughing. "Really?"

"Yeah, really!" Taako almost manages a straight face. Usually he's so good at locking it down. Perfect stupid asshole. "I'd kill him good. I'd uh, I'd. Uh. If he beats me at Dance Party Castle again, I'm gonna start a fight."

"A fight? With what, your beefy fists?" Kravitz laughs. He knows Taako could hold his own in a scrap. But also.

"I will start a fight!" Taako declares, maybe a bit too loudly, but the empty food court just echoes dimly about it. "I will start a fight, and I don't care if I win, but I will win. I will win that fight. I wanna draw blood."

"Blood on the dance floor?"

"Boooo!" Taako breaks up into giggles. "Blood on the arcade carpet!"

"Oh no! Think of the blacklights!"

"Think of the Jenkins meat getting fed into the- what's the- Polybius!"

"You said Jenkins meat out loud with your mouth and now you have to go to the Phantom Zone forever." Kravitz shakes his head so sadly. What a loss. Taako cracks up.

"Noooo, I wasn't thinking!"

"That's it, you never think." Kravitz folds his arms, and gets cheese sauce on his suit jacket. "Wait, aw, fuck…"

"Are you sure you don't want to watch me defeat Dance Party Castle one mo gain?" Taako teases. He slides the nakins back over. What a loss!!!

"Only if there's an arcade massacre."

"Beb, I'd commit all kinds of crimes for you."

"Murder?" Kravitz pretends his cheeks aren't heating up, even after all this time. The classic Ken doll of a dude proposing to the slightly more racially ambiguous Ken doll in the glossy jewelry store ad almost winks at him.

"Easy."

"What about tax evasion?"

"Peasy, even."

"We got 'im, boys! Lock him up!"

And as Taako pretends to get dogpiled by a number of invisible undercover tax assassins, he has at least gotten less righteously incandescent about the fucker ruining his favorite thing. So Kravitz wins.

Just not at Dance Party Castle.

[blueberri-chee]

Is this the end?

A/n: just a little thing if satoru was my brother.... oh i would kill for him to be my lil bro.. fun times bullying him.

Warnings- spoilers SPOILERS spoilers SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

I watched Satoru fight with Sukuna/Megumi and I remember the conversation I had with Megumi one day while I was training him.. He had asked me how it felt to be the elder sister of the strongest sorcerer… it was nerve wracking to say nonetheless. I had chuckled and simply shook my head saying, “he was a pain in the ass.” To which Megumi cracked a smile. Quite the reaction coming from him. I smiled as he said, “I agree.” But there was so much more to that.. Satoru is a man with tremendous potential and power which also brought tremendous sadness and grief… he lost his best friend not once but twice… he saw his co-workers die.. His students perished to the curses. He has to fight the boy he raised because he was possessed by the king of curses… Satoru had gone through a lot and I saw him go through it and I couldn't do anything about it… Now that I watch them fight I can't help but feel that I've failed to protect my brother… The one for whom I gave my whole life away… I spent hours in the god forsaken training room of the Gojo estate so that I could protect him from everything but I failed. I failed so miserably and I can't even do anything as I watch them helplessly. Kento had asked me one day, “Why don't you trust him, then? You've worked your whole life to raise him, right? To make him a good person who'd know right from wrong..... I think it's fine to trust him a little more. You can't protect him forever, can you?” 

I sighed and looked at him with what I could only describe as heaviness in my heart, “that is the thing... I was the first person to hold him after he was born... he was a big baby with bright bright blue eyes. and I was like I’m going to protect him forever... I was holding the baby who was going to be the strongest sorcerer of this era... I was holding the baby because of whom the balance of the universe was altered and curses stronger than what you can even imagine were born to match his strength and I had taken upon the responsibility to protect him.. Forever” 

I looked at him and he had this weird look in his eyes. Like I had said something so heart touching and idiotic at the same time. “I see.” he said after a long pause, "Then..." He hesitated, but he wanted to ask me this. "Why are you so scared?" He said gently. "I thought that you had made him strong enough so he wouldn't need protection anymore." He added. I knew what he meant.. I had heard it enough times from Suguru and I gave Kento the same reply I used to give Suguru, “"I did make him strong but I can't help it. Actually.. He made himself strong. I was just there for him. The enemies he is up against. They are strong… He might be the strongest but for me he is just my little brother… I might hate his guts but still.. It is just. I can't help but worry about him..." 

Satoru was all I have left of the family and I raised him myself like he was my own son.. Now watching him fight the boy he had raised, hurt me more than anything. I wanted to protect him from experiencing such pain but here I am witnessing it.. 

I truly failed but there is no point crying over spilt blood so I pray to all the gods above that Satoru wins without harming megumi… which is impossible. If Kento would have heard me mumbling these prayers he would have called me a fool and would have told me to trust Satoru.. But he is not here to tell me that so I continue to pray. I want Satoru to win.. I wanted him to win so badly but I had this intuition. A very bad intuition which is never wrong. I looked at Yuuji who was standing beside me and then at my brother and his student? His enemy? His son? I don’t know…. But I know that this isn’t going to end well. I clasp my hands together as I rest my chin on it. 

He uses purple hollow.. I hold my breath as I wait for the bright light and the debris to settle down. 

……..

Did he just win?

…….

Did Gojo Satoru just defeat the king of curses? 

…….

Is it too early to cheer for his victory? 

……

Is….. it?

…..

….

…

..

.

Maybe it is…. Maybe my intuition was right… maybe….just maybe….. Am I wrong for the first time in my whole life?

….

…

..

I was right. I clench my fist as I watch him.. Falling… My chest feels heavy as I watch the strongest fall. The strongest.. Who was Yuuji's teacher. Shoko’s best friend. My brother… I fall on my knees as everything happens in slow motion… this is bad. This wasn’t supposed to happen…. He will rise… The strongest can’t give up so easily. Gojo Satoru never loses. 

Gojo Satoru won’t lose.