#ignore my scribbled rambling lol

[ashyscribbles]

tfw you're live-posting your spider horror story and the firecrackers in the tdbk disco are like 'I thought you're talking about Shoto'

I finally managed to nail (older) Shoto looking like his dad. I just know Enji's genes gonna kick in. But damn, it's hard drawing a five o'clock shadow on anime dudes 😮‍💨

More art || Buy me a coffee || Please don’t repost on Tiktok, Instagram, Facebook etc., thanks!

[slutforitoshi]

mikage reo - star student *:･ﾟ✧

ft. reo x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: CORRUPTION KINK, virgin!mc, praise, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, fingering

synopsis: your dear upperclassman teaches you a few new tricks

wc: 1.85k

A/N: confession i was a reo anti until i read the manga LOL

mikage reo is the poster boy for model upperclassman. smart, athletic, and breathtakingly handsome. unlike other seniors he didn’t seem to view the younger years with distaste. after all, he was one of them just a few semesters ago. his generosity knew no bounds, from comped meals to private tutoring lessons. and you happened to be one of those pupils; a sprout eager to learn from the best. 

initially you sought out reo’s help since you happened to hear that he was the first in your school’s history to ace all the physics exams, a subject you were dreadful at. you expected the relationship to be cordial, professional even, but reo’s welcoming disposition made it hard to stay away. 

before you knew it he was assisting you with much more than physics, guiding you even in your personal life. that’s why it didn’t even occur to you as strange to blurt out, “i think i’m finally going to lose my virginity this weekend”

reo’s pencil that was currently scribbling away at his planner grinds to a halt, leaving only the slight hum of your ceiling fan to break the silence. 

shit. you’ve made things awkward. 

“oh my god i’m so sorry i don’t know why i said that,” you apologize immediately, realizing the vulgarity of your words. reo was your senior, and while he has helped you with relationship problems before, you should’ve known this was a leap further than that.

reo turns to you with a light smile though, relieving the regret you felt in your stomach. 

“what’s there to be sorry about? i’m glad you trust me to talk about it” he reassures you, in classic reo fashion. 

“are you sure? i don’t want to make you uncomfortable…” your voice trails off, but reo’s eyes don’t waver. his dear underclassman has a concern, and who else but him to help?

“well…ok. i’ve just been feeling left behind recently in that whole category. all my friends keep talking about their recent hookups, and it’s lame that i haven’t done anything past kissing”

reo’s eyebrows furrow in concern, “don’t tell me you want to have sex because of peer pressure.”  

“no no it’s nothing like that” you quickly shut down his unease, “i just feel like i’m ready for it. i want to join my friends.”

he slowly nods his head, taking in your true thoughts. 

“so how are you gonna do it? are you seeing anyone?”

“nah i was just gonna go to a party and find some semi-cute guy” you shrugged, and it’s clear by his expression that this was the worst idea he’s ever heard.

“you’re gonna settle for some random guy at a party, who will probably be mediocre at best in bed?” he spat, eyes narrowing at the prospect.

you’ve never seen reo like this, almost bitter at your proposed idea.

“i don’t see any other good options” you murmured. there probably were, but those other options included waiting, and you’ve had enough of that.

reo presses his fingertips to his temples, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“you think physics is the only thing i can help you with?”

he opens his eyes, turning towards you with such a piercing stare that it sends shivers down your spine. 

“n-no, of course not. you’ve helped me with loads of things before like math, biology-” you ramble, trying to ignore the quickening pace of your heartbeat. sure you were a virgin, but you weren’t naive. 

“i won’t force you. i’m just expanding your options” his eyes don’t leave you, and as much as you want to hide from his directness, you can’t seem to look away. as much as you wanted to run away, to say no, the growing heat in your abdomen has already made the decision for you. 

“p-please reo, i’m all yours”

“that’s my good girl.”

he places his right hand at the nape of your neck, then pulling you into his lips. gentle, you noted. his kisses showed no sign of aggression or neediness like you’ve experienced from the select few boys you’ve made out with before, but that’s not to say it wasn’t passionate. 

you break the kiss first, leaving your chair to kneel down before his. 

“can i?” you ask, looking intently at the bulge peaking through reo’s pants.

“eager aren’t we” he smirks, pulling down his waistband to reveal your first cock. and it’s impressive. your eyes widen at the length before you, mouth watering. you look up eagerly, lunging forward to envelop the head around your lips as reo gives an encouraging nod. 

“f-fuckk” he gasps, taking in the warmth of your mouth. it’s heavenly. 

you push your limits, inch by inch, until you feel him hit the back of your throat, and the sensation launches you off suddenly. 

“you alright?” reo sits forward, caressing your back as you cough through the result of your eagerness. you nod though, pushing him back into the chair. 

“wanna try again” you murmur, eyes fixated on your conquest. you wrap your lips around him again, taking note of the ache the girth inflicts on your jaw. it’s not an unpleasant feeling, and the view of reo’s eyes rolled back makes it all worth it. 

this time you don’t recoil from the hit, and start your trek up, then down, then up.

“focus on the tip, it’s sensitive there” he instructs, and you oblige, intensifying the bobbing motion near his ridge.

“circle your tongue around it” reo barely finishes his thought before you’re complying to his demands. 

reo’s fingers are digging into chair’s arms, leaving crescent shaped imprints. he couldn’t tell what was more pleasurable: the feeling of your tongue against his tip, or how fucking obedient you were. 

“such a good girl for me, learning so fast”

you hum in content at his praise, sending vibrations that nearly push reo to the edge. that’s enough he thinks, it’s time for the next lesson.

he sits up suddenly, and his cock leaves you with a ‘pop’. you try to object at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already pulling you up, guiding you to the bed. 

“sit back for me, and keep your legs spread” he instructs, tying his purple strands back to keep away from the mess that will surely follow. 

you do as he says, revealing the growing damp spot on the panties underneath your skirt. he dives in, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you forward abruptly until his face is hovered above your heat. 

“r-reo-” your eyes widen at the sudden movement, but your voice morphs into a moan as he licks a long stripe above the cloth. 

“let me show you what you deserve” he peels off the drenched panties off your legs, marveling at your glistening folds. 

he makes haste, lunging forward to bury himself between your thighs. the sensation of the soft muscle of his tongue immediately makes you buck your hips forward. 

“f-fuck!” you splutter out, mind blanking as he circles your clit. he had you wondering why on earth you waited so long. strands of purple leaked through your knuckles as you held his head in place. 

a familiar coil builds, one that you’ve only felt through from your own efforts before. 

“you’re close aren’t you?” he smirks briefly before diving in again to chase after your high. 

stars dance across your half closed lids once he adds a finger into your entrance. it’s a stretch you’ve never felt before, but the feeling was more than welcome. then the addition of a second finger has your head falling back against the backboard. 

“your virgin pussy’s so tight” he remarks, noticing how cramped the hole was with only two digits in. his vulgar words brought a blush to your face; who knew the mikage reo could talk so dirty?

the curling of his fingers is what brings you over the edge, until you’re thrashing against the sheets while reo uses his free arm to hold your hips down. 

“how was that for your first orgasm?” 

“so…so good” you manage through your pants. it left you breathless, but he wasn’t finished with you yet. 

reo briefly gets up to roll a condom on while you recover. shit, it’s happening. you were about to kiss your virginity goodbye. 

“i’m gonna go nice and slow okay?” he says, positioning himself above you. a light kiss is placed on your forehead before you feel the tip nudge at your entrance. and then he pushes.

your eyes squeeze shut at the intrusion, nails raking at reo’s back to offset the pain. 

“deep breaths, it’s almost all the way in” he whispers, trying not to cum himself from the absolute bliss that your pussy gives him. 

you both let out a sigh as he bottoms out, and he stills himself, waiting for confirmation to move. 

“please reo” you whine, “make me feel good”

his eyes darken at your pleads, and a flash of possessiveness passes his mind. you were so fragile, and yet here you were begging him to ruin you. 

he builds his pace gradually, knowing the stretch must still cause you discomfort. but by the third thrust, your loud moans were a clear indicator of the pleasure wracking your body. 

“r-reo, feels amazing” 

he responds to your praise with a firm grip on your waist, pulling you in deeper against him, “yeah? don’t you ever settle for anything less than this”

you almost yelp as he scoops one arm around your back to flip you. you’re on your knees now as he’s laid back against the mattress, still buried completely within you.

“want to learn how to ride?” he suggests, lip twitching upwards in a suggestive smile. the challenge was daunting, but a star student like you wouldn’t back down. 

you place your palms against his taut chest, shakily raising yourself up before crashing back down. 

“fuck, you’re a natural” he groans as you sink down again. 

the new position has his tip kissing your cervix, and it’s not long before your thighs are giving out. 

“looks like you need some help” he teases before his hands are supporting your hips, guiding you up and down his length. by the way your walls were fluttering, he could tell you were reaching another high. reo decides to add even more assistance by taking a free hand towards your clit, rubbing circles onto the sensitive bud. 

your body goes slack at the sudden onset of pleasure, but reo has no problem making up for your efforts to ride, still thrusting upwards at impressive speeds. 

“c-cumming again!” you exclaim again before clamping hard against his cock. your pulsating walls are enough for him to unload as well, thrusting erratically to maximize both your orgasms.

you collapse against his chest, limbs completely drained of energy. he laughs lightly at the state he left you in before wrapping his arms around your back and laying another kiss to the side of your temples. 

“reo how am i supposed to fuck anyone else after this” you whine, “you set the bar too high”

“who said we were done? you still have much more to learn”

[sorencd]

hey hannah! hope you're well <3 could you write about having a study session with charlie dalton? im studying rn and i cant stop thinking about him lol

LOVING IS EASY

pairing: charlie dalton x reader

word count: 0.7k

a/n: hii anon! here u go :) GOOD LUCK WITH UR STUDYING BBY MWAMWAS

masterlist

charlie knows where the extent of his intelligence is. he wasn't as much of a genius as meeks but he wasn't dumb either. he only felt the need to study when it was really necessary. mostly, he'd rather spend his time with you, the other poets, or playing the saxophone.

when he met you though, he's come to love studying more and more. he loves lying on your carpet on the ground beside you with a bunch of textbooks sprawled out in front of you. he adored the little snacks your mom would bring in the middle of your studying with a grin on her face, saying you'll accomplish more with a full stomach. he always liked staying at your place more than his. besides, your dad's starting to like him.

sometimes, when you’re helping him find the answer to a seemingly impossible maths problem that’s stumping the both of you, he'd opt to stare at you instead of focusing on the task at hand. he’d watch you chew on your pen, angrily ramble about how it all makes no sense, scribble formulas that he’s sure aren’t the right ones, and listen to how pretty your voice sounds. he’d ease his cheeks into his arms that were crossed on the floor and nod his head to everything you’d say, occasionally flipping the pages to put on the guise of knowing what you’re talking about. he knows by the end of the day, he’ll distract you and avoid you two from achieving anything.

while you were busy marking your latin notes to their respective places, and to give charlie an easier time reading it all when he needs to, you heard a soft thump! to your right. charlie, whom you thought was also doing the same thing you were, at least was doing the same thing, had now decided to slump further onto the carpet. ‘that’s gotta hurt.’ you wondered, slightly wincing before poking his cheek. his brain was getting fried from all this studying.

“i don’t understand how this could possibly be used in the future. when will i ever say ‘quid est tempestas hodie?’” he whined. you do have to agree, when will you use latin? you shrugged and just guessed it would come in handy one day.

“don’t be like that! latin is fun! imagine how many swear words you could say and no one outside of welton would understand you.”

“then what’s the point? most of the people i want to say ‘stercore manducare’ to is from hellton.” 

“it can’t be that bad!”

“enroll and find out then, it’ll make me very happy if you do that.” he batted his eyelashes and puckered his lips, his face contorted into a silly expression, making smooching sounds to your dismay.

you giggled and pushed him away in a joking matter, “stop, you’re making me lose focus!”

charlie feigned hurt as he let out a huff, turning to lie on his back and raised a hand to his forehead. “the world is treating me bad, misery! my darling has finally cracked and can now ignore the un-ignorable me!” it was like he was reciting a poem. it always made you laugh whenever he did that. his sudden outbursts of poetical literacy always successfully being able to lift up your spirits.

“i’m getting sick of the floor, let’s study in bed instead! it’ll help us think better.” he cheekily proclaims, trying his best to persuade you. it didn’t take much convincing for him to get you to do anything. how could you ever pass up any opportunity with charlie? so inevitably, you would give in and you’d end up in bed, supposedly studying with a textbook in between your blanket covered legs. you could already see yourself waking up only to realise that you fell asleep. with charlie spooning you and your notes haphazardly scattered onto the floor.

you continued jotting down useful information both you and charlie could use when examination arrives, and he continued admiring you trying to write down on an uneven surface. it didn’t take long for charlie to realise that in every version he imagined himself as, he saw you in each one. he loved being nuwanda with you. because with you, loving is easy.

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[madlittlecriminal]

Heeyyy, not sure if your requests are open or not... If not, no worries, feel free to ignore this, lol. But I gotta say, I absolutely adored your mk fanfics! They were just so good! And it got me thinking, you know? What if, in Steven's date episode (the one in the series), the reader showed up? Like, maybe she could be the waitress or just someone who happened to be alone at the restaurant and saw him there. What do you think would make her approach him? I don't know, maybe a sense of sympathy, or just wanting to be cool? Or maybe he's just really good-looking? Who knows! Anyway, sorry if I rambled a bit, and please forgive any mistakes in my English. It's not my first language. Once again, I LOVED your mk fanfics!

- Anon🐌

Chocolates and Wine ☾ Steven Grant × Female!Reader

your English is great, don't worry anon! :) im glad you liked my fics though! it means a lot to be honest, especially since i was hesitant at first to write for the moon boys. but you and everyone else who has liked and reblogged my work has made my days so much better :') thank you and i hope you enjoy! :) also, i ramble too, so you can ramble as much as you want!

Warnings: being stood up, the so-called date of reader has no specified gender

You glanced at your phone and sighed when you saw it was now 7:30 and your date wasn't there. 30 minutes late and not one message to you saying that they were cancelling or at least letting you know that they were running late. Honestly, you were beginning to lose hope. However, when you turned around to see a guy looking a bit sad after getting off the phone, you felt bad. Had he gone through the same thing you were?

It was kind of unfortunate really. I mean, he was handsome. Not to mention that he looked good in black, but that was beside the point. You saw he had a heart shape box with him, and you quickly knew it was chocolate. The waiter walked over to him, and you quickly decided that there was no way you were going to waste this night and let him be sad.

He looked too good to be sad anyway.

So, you did what you thought was right and quickly ran up to the table and sat down across from him. The look of shock on his face was hard to miss and you let out a breath. "Sorry I'm late! I typed the wrong address and from rushing to get here, I forgot to let you know." The waiter smiled at you while the man in front of you was frozen. "Did you order yet?" He shook his head and you smiled. "Great! Can I get a glass of red please?" The waiter nodded and looked over that the man. "And for you sir?" He nodded and looked up at the waiter. "Y-yeah, I'll take the same. Thank you." The waiter left while scribbling the drinks down on his notepad. Once he was far, you looked over at the man, his dark brown eyes meeting yours.

"Sorry if I scared you, sir. I thought it was best if I joined you." He shook his head. "No worries. I saw you waiting and I thought it was for someone. D-Did you get stood up?" You look down at menu the man had and sighed. "Unfortunately. I don't understand why people do that, y'know? Did you get stood up too or did they have the decency to reschedule?" You scanned the menu before deciding what you wanted before passing it back to him. He took it and embarrassment was written on his face. "I got the days mixed up. Thought today was Friday when it's actually Sunday."

"Yeah, it happens. Especially when time goes by quickly, you lose track of days, right?" Something was written on his face as the waiter came back with the wine before putting it down and asking if you were ready to order. You and the stranger placed your orders and he walked away. "You could say that. Sorry, I'm Steven...with a v." You raised your brow with a small smile as you looked at him. "Nice to meet you Steven with a v. I'm (Y/N)." His embarrassment quickly faded, and a small smile crept on his face. "This date of yours, did he bail because he was nervous?" You shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Tried contacting them and they never responded, so I gave up and came to your table."

"Out of pity?" You took a sip of your wine. "Honestly? Maybe a bit, but I figured I would take my chances. You seemed decent enough to talk to." He chuckled. "Thank you...I think?" You smiled. "Plus, it was a bonus for me since you definitely are cuter than who my date was." He raised a brow. "A man?" You shrugged. "Male, female, gender neutral, doesn't matter. You're really handsome, Steven." He looked down at his hands and you tilt your head to the side. Did he not get compliments? Surely a man this handsome got compliments daily, right?

He gave you a shy smile. "I'm not used to flattery, so I'm sorry." You grinned. "It's fine," your waiter returned with the food and you both began indulging on the food, having a nice conversation. You found out he was an Egyptian mythology buff and you thought it was cute. He told you about how he wanted to be a tour guide for the museum he worked at, but his boss was, and you'd quote "a complete twat" which made you snort. You told him about your career and your different interests as well, causing him to look at you with so much focus that you honestly became nervous.

However, as quickly as this whole thing started, it came to an end; he paid and you gave the tip since he refused to split the bill, insisting that you did so much for him, the least he could've done was pay for your food as well. As you both began to leave, you traded numbers, agreeing to hang out again soon. He then looked at the chocolate box that was now under his arm and turned to you. "Do you like chocolate?" You were shocked by his response and nodded. He handed you the box of chocolates with a smile. "There you go, love. Enjoy, yeah? You did a lot for me today and it was great. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Steven. Do you need a ride?" He hesitated for a second before nodding. "Yeah, alright." With that, you gave him your phone so he could put his address in it and got into your car. Honestly, you were glad your date stood you up or else you wouldn't have met Steven. After Steven handed your phone back to you, you send the person a text saying that you wished them the best, but you were no longer interested in them. You deleted their number and went back to your navigation app and began taking Steven home.

[somuchcoffeeandwine]

I saw this post cross my dashboard this morning, and I just had to do this with how much it resonated with me as a former child who used to be obsessed with Zelda. Warning, I ramble. So tagging @flutefemme right here. I hope she loves the new Zelda game.

Of course, the beautiful original from Maddie herself of the Majestic Queen Zelda

And my interpretation of her! Didn't do a background because I was a little lazy lol (If you would like a version to share with her without the DTIYS tag, let me know)

Below the line break is just a bit of a personal story, because I have a similar experience as a young child and I enjoy typing. Feel free to read, or ignore it

So I was also a child obsessed with Zelda, and this resonated with me, because I was made fun of for it. My first character I actually made was a Zelda character, another Queen in fact. Her name is Majora (Because I didn't want to change her name and it fits so well) and she goes by Queenie. And in honor of supporting a talented young artist, I decided to pull out my old sketchbooks from elementary, and the first ever sketch of Queenie I did, to encourage her to keep pursuing her art. Also, beautiful use of both markers and colored pencils. I actually color picked all of those colors (Besides the gold, I know the pain of not having a gold color) from the original drawing.

So now, the first drawing of Queenie! (Fingers are blocking out some very edgy things I scribbled there in middle school)

[magicratfingers]

hi!!! ive been putting off sending this ask bc idk how to phrase it in the best way but … ive been trying to work on my drawing lately even tho the Voice that wants to give up bc im not immediately good at things is VERY strong !!! & i love your work so much + ive been taking a lot of inspo bc its kinda scribbly and pared-down but still really expressive + differentiated (i.e. im just saying its something i feel like i can try match the vibe of rather than like, a very detailed and refined thing?!?! absolutely not my intention to sound rude at all!!!) .

anyway very rambly but the main thing is ive been struggling a lot w figure+perspective+silhouettes and honestly everything so i was just wondering what ur process was like??? particularly bc ur style is more pared back but everything is so cohesive and all the perspective n posing is perfect. i’m curious sketching/planning is involved before a typical work you’d upload? and idk like……. how much technical skill + consideration goes into a drawing especially re: posing & perspective. just bc i feel like Such a Noob and like my eyes r literally wrong and nothing looks Right. im such a type A planner it just feels like maybe idk am i supposed to be educating myself on figure drawing and shading perspective first??!?! or do i just draw until it’s good?!?!?

idk man i create in a lot of different mediums and i feel super comfortable letting my writing be terrible before it’s good but w drawing the self-critique is SO difficult to ignore. thanku for what turned out to be a vent lol. but i would appreciate any insight! also i love your art ok bye

Hi! yeah great ask. I've been there. Live there, even. Here're two of my comfort hacks

1. Scribbles = Bonsai It can be real hard to know when you're 'done' with an illustration (or anything really) if you don't have a job for it. My doodles are 'done' to me if they have Character, Rhythm, & Balance. I stole that from a youtube doc about Bonsai.

2. Figures / Perspectives / Shading = Planning The Chunks These are kind of all the same thing - 'how am I using volume to say something.' I've found formal perspective stuff to be stifling. I work around it by making little marshmallow toothpick people and putting them in a diorama.

I like the diorama method because all I have to do is make far things lighter and close things darker. That's a lot of depth for very little effort and I'm on a budget.

If this helps y'all I'd love to hear about it 🍀

[siilvan]

Solitude

Characters: Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

Summary: The feeling of being alone. (Or something like that.)

Genre: Light angst? Idk, it's just sleep-deprived rambling lol

Warnings: Semi-proofread, light cursing, some mentions/allusions to canon-typical violence, again it's just random shit

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: I wrote this in a few hours because I've been an emo bitch lately and figured I'd do what I always do when I'm sad, AKA take it out on my oc (◡‿◡) I might leave it up, I might cringe after I wake up and delete it, who knows honestly? I promise I'm working on things people actually want to read, btw

If Petra was one thing, it was a woman not easily phased by trivial matters. War, violence, exhaustion, death – all things she was experienced with. All things she knew how to handle on any given day. She earned both her call sign and her position for exactly that reason, even.

Now, if Mylène was one thing, it was a woman constantly weighed down with the things she faces on any given day. War, violence, exhaustion, death – it haunts her every waking moment. She had learned to deal with it over the years, how to put a pin in her emotions for the sake of getting the job done. People needed her to be the steady hand, so that’s what she became.

She never quite learned how to deal with the loneliness, though.

"Just call me if you need me, okay? Any time, I don't care when or where. I'm there."

The words felt foreign as soon as they left the captain's lips. She wasn't used to hearing that. She was always the one people came to rely on.

A heavy sigh escapes Mylène's lips as she unceremoniously flops down on the sofa with her old scrapbook in-hand. It was a hobby her mother had, one she didn’t understand until it was too late to even tell the woman that she learned why she loved it so much.

That's another thing she was. Sentimental. All she ever seemed to do when she was alone was reminisce. The good days, the bad days, the moments that she was sure went right in and out of anyone else's brain – her first sniping lesson with Price, the first time Nikolai called her "Mila," the first time she heard Ghost's genuine laugh, when she and Soap discovered their mutual love of art, the one single time she almost beat Gaz in a race… small moments, but ones she held close to her heart.

As she flips the near-overstuffed book open, she's immediately greeted with another memory. One she was honestly surprised she could still recall so clearly, considering she was only six years old during it.

A photo, taken in the dead of winter. Her family was in the states, visiting her aunt and uncle for Christmas. They were at the dinner table – her aunt was to the left, her honey blonde hair tossed over her shoulder as a few streaks of silvery grey finally started to show, with a three-year-old Emiel sitting in her lap and babbling away to her. To the right was her uncle, the grey in his dark hair and beard far more visible as he leaned back in his chair, a soft smile resting on his lips as he watched the six-year-old in his lap frantically scribble away on a piece of paper with a crayon. In the back, standing in the backyard and visible through the half-open glass door, was her father – younger, not yet the man she knew him as – and her two cousins, tossing a football back and forth and laughing away. Even her childhood dog was there, a blur in the picture as she ran after the ball.

Her mom wasn't in the photo. Judging by Emiel pointing somewhere behind the camera, she was the one taking it.

The more Mylène thought about it, the more it almost became funny. There was a point in time when she was surrounded by people, almost too many for her to keep up with. Her gaze lifts from the page; she tries to ignore the wetness clinging to her eyelashes as she looks around her living room. Other than her, it's empty. Her brother was somewhere else in the world, surely finishing another sensitive mission that Laswell assigned to him. "I want the best for the job," she always says. Her aunt and uncle were still in the states, but every time she thought about them, all that seemed to come to mind was how they lost fifteen years to the anger of her father.

After years of losing people left and right – allies, entire teams, patients in her care, civilians, friends – maybe it was for the best that she was alone. Even the task force had some close scrapes over the years, moments when she worried about losing one of the people she had come to consider a second family.

Mylène closes the scrapbook with a heavy thud and sets it down on the small coffee table in front of her. She shifts, pulling her knees up to her chest and eyeing the cellphone sitting next to the book. It was silent, save for the occasional spam email or update from her superiors. If she wasn't a woman ruled by her sense of pride, she'd consider sending someone a message.

Maybe she could text Freya and ask about her progress with the recent training exercises she gave her. Or, maybe she could text Christine for an update on the new batch of recruits. Maybe she could even come up with some lame excuse to text Olga, ask her how she's doing after her company rapidly expanded out of the blue.

No, no… She's a woman with too much pride for that. Johnny, Kyle, Simon… She didn’t have a viable excuse for bothering any of them. Between their work and their partners, she doubted any of those three had time for her, anyway.

Price? No, definitely busy with the missus. Nikolai? She can never predict what he's up to, but she assumed it was probably work or his own love, too. Laswell? God, what weak excuse could she even come up with in that scenario.

"Any time, I'm there."

She lowers her head and lets her chin rest on top of her knees. She was only home because she had to be – the captain claimed she was working herself to the bone and needed the time off before she ran herself ragged.

"You can take a week off," He chuckles, patting her shoulder before squeezing it in a firm grip. "Everything'll keep running when you're gone, I promise. We won't fall apart without you."

She laughed at the time. "Just give me a call if Johnny blows one of his fingers off, he's already almost done that three times this month alone." She said.

Was she selfish for feeling a pang in her chest? "It's natural to want to feel wanted," she can already hear someone wiser than her saying. Who could she actually say that to, though? Everyone around her was too busy and too interested in their own lives. She was just… well, herself. Lieutenant Petra; always stable, always the guiding hand, always the last one to complain when times get tough.

Her phone buzzes as the screen flashes to life. She picks it up and sees her brother's name in the notifications. When she clicks into their messages, it's a picture of him sitting in the back of a helicopter, his gear half-stripped off but his mask still on, covering the lower half of his face and leaving his smeared eye black and messy hair on display as he gives the camera a little thumbs-up.

Always his way of telling her he's okay after a mission. Whenever she was sent out, she'd do the same. Mylène sends a quick reply – "Try and spend more than three days at base when you get back." – and turns her phone off again.

It would be easy to message someone at this point and tell them the truth. "I'm feeling lonely, do you have time to chat?" are just nine little words. She was always the one telling her teammates and the soldiers under her command to reach out if they ever needed her, and yet the thought of doing the same felt like an impossible goal.

She turns her phone on its face and leans back against the cushion. After years of being her own shoulder to cry on, why was she suddenly feeling so lonely? She didn't need to be coddled, she didn't need to be someone's baby, she was always capable of relying on herself and no one else. She promised herself that the last time she broke down in front of someone else would be the last time she let herself do something like that. She didn't need it. She could take care of herself.

Mylène pushes herself off the sofa, worrying at the inside of her cheek. Everyone has their priorities and people they're already focused on caring for. She has herself, and that's all she needs. She doesn't need a shoulder to cry on or someone who knows how she's feeling all hours of the day.

"Verdomme…" She lifts her hands up and presses the heels of her palms to her eyes. "Get it together, Scholten…" She mutters in the empty room, drawing in and releasing slow, deep breaths until she can lower her hands to her sides once more. She handles it, just like always.

She has herself, and that's all she needs.

[wyrdle]

"Papa, like you, I have committed a grievous sin."

(Mini fic under the cut)

"That it took Mama's death to realise the haunting visage of you... was not your ghost... but my own fraying conscience... I regret much.

Thanatos never did speak to me, but it was easier to ignore you by pretending something greater spoke through me.

What next? Surrender? I know not of how to atone. Perhaps it is appropriate for Lunatic's final enactment of justice... to purge the world of Lunatic. An evil is he, a murderer I am, as you had taunted often.

I shall welcome Tartarus' fires with open arms, and burn away for a better world in my ashes. See you, papa."

---

All at once, there was only the bright blue and greens of Lunatic's fire and Kotetsu's alarmed shout, then the cold and wet embrace of nothingness.

Yuri thought to destroy himself, a final act of penance for his crimes. But Tartarus' fires rejected him, and the sea washed him upon the shore. By a stroke of dumb luck, those that would lock him into a cell, to continue breathing but never live, did not find him. Wild Tiger however, is the persistent sort.

Shocked, conflicted and uneased, Kotetsu and Barnaby fished the battered judge and wanted criminal and treated his many wounds.

"What do we do with him?" Bunny asked.

"I don't know."

Wild Tiger did not agree with Yuri's actions, but imprisonment, much less death, seemed unproductive a means for repentance and redemption. This is Mr Legend's son, he thinks, and curses at the conundrum he now faced.

Weeks later, Yuri blinked open tired eyes and struggled to hide his bafflement at being housed at Kaburagi's countryside home. Met with kindness he thought he did not deserve from the family but was learning was essential to living, he healed. Under Barnaby's watchful, thoughtful eyes, of course. The knowledge that he could melt the security cameras and tracking bracelet with ease was kept to himself.

It takes a long time, and patience from all parties, to learn: Yes, crimes could never be erased, but only through living could anything be better be achieved and wounds tended to. Yuri found himself to be his own observation subject, the ironic testament to Kotetsu's brand of justice.

Eventually, the judge of Stern Bild reclaims his role. Yuri hopes, with many days of overwork interspersed with some of his new friend's kindness, that every day he spends living is never wasted.

Yuri is not a good man, but with another life-changing scar upon his chest, he could try.

----

Lol. Lunch break scribble and rambly fic. I would make a comic of this very thing but!! Time!!! I do not have it. I was trying to mesh together my thoughts about why Yuri thinks suicide is the way out i guess. I wish there was more support in show to tell us he actually showed remorse for his actions as lunatic.... Lol some other fanfic writer and their fixit can do better than me

Anyway someone help me name this au haha

[swan-of-sunrise]

The Halcyon Hypothesis

Summary: A chance meeting on the New York subway between a stressed-out graduate student and a brilliant but dorky scientist takes a surprising turn in both of their lives.

Pairing: Bruce Banner X Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Here’s another little one-shot I found hiding on an old flash drive! It’s officially dedicated to all you guys who’ve been struggling with finals and to all the other Bruce Banner fans out there lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!  

The Halcyon Hypothesis (Fanfiction Masterlist)

“Dammit!” (Y/N) swore under her breath as she edged her way into the extremely cramped train and tried not to lose grip on the large stack of notes in her arms. People funneled into the train behind her and in no time, she was crammed tightly into the train as the doors closed; if Professor Taylors hadn’t kept us after class, I’d be on an almost-deserted train right now with my own personal space, she thought with annoyance as the train began to move, but at least I can still cram a little studying in.

She planted her feet so the motions of the train wouldn’t cause her to lose balance and opened her notebook to her most recent notes. Sweat-covered passengers shifted around her as more and more people boarded at the next several stops, but she did her best to ignore them as she struggled to understand everything she’d hastily jotted down earlier. Burnout was hitting her hard as the fall semester drew to a close and her roommates were in the midst of a fight of epic proportions, so the only think keeping her going was the six cups of coffee she’d already had and the promise of another when she arrived back home. All of a sudden, the train slammed on its brakes harder than usual; most of the other passengers were holding onto hand straps but since (Y/N) wasn’t, the train’s jarring movement sent her stumbling into the man standing next to her. “Shit, sorry about that.”

“That’s okay. There’s an extra hand strap over here if you wanna use it.”

(Y/N) glanced up from her notes and momentarily forgot to speak when she caught sight of the man’s kindly smile and strangely-captivating eyes. “I’m fine, I’ve gotta hold my notes.”

The man nodded in understanding and she returned her focus to the scribbles on her page of notes. A few moments later, though, the man spoke again. “You mixed up a couple of your definitions.”

“Excuse me?”

He looked a little startled by her annoyed reply, but nevertheless he continued. “The, um, the definitions for adenosine triphosphate and adenylate cyclase at the top of your page should be swapped.”

Still slightly irritated that her studying was interrupted again, (Y/N) looked at the definitions he spoke of and to her surprise, the man was correct. “Well, I’ll be damned. Are you a biology expert or something?”

“You could say that. I, ah, actually have one of my PhD’s in it,” The man replied. Instead of acting smug about his apparent multiple doctorates, he seemed a little embarrassed to have mentioned them at all; he rubbed his neck awkwardly with his free hand and looked at everything in the train car but her as his ears flushed a vivid shade of pink.

His shyness is kinda cute, (Y/N) thought with a growing smile, her earlier annoyance long-gone. “That’s cool! I’m working on my master’s in biology right now and I can’t even imagine working on a doctorate; I’ve never been more stressed in my life. So stressed, apparently, that I can’t tell the difference between a nucleotide and an enzyme! It’s just that my professors won’t ease up on the workload and things are a little tense with my roommates so I don’t get much studying in at home, and-” She stopped her rambling and cringed internally; why the hell was she unloading all this onto a stranger on a train? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on a rant there. Stress, you know…”

“That’s okay, stress can make people do a lot of weird things.” The man’s eyes were unfocused, as if he was thinking about something else, but the strange look disappeared after a moment and was replaced with a bashful grin. “…If you want, I could look over your notes to make sure everything’s correct? Not that it’s not correct, of course! I’m sure it’s great, but, you know, just to be on the safe side…?”

“Um…sure, I guess. Thanks!” (Y/N) handed him her notebook and pencil and watched as he began flipping through the pages, scanning the information and used the pencil to make corrections when necessary. The train clinked and clanked along as he remained concentrated on his work, and (Y/N) took the opportunity to examine him a little. His dark curly hair was streaked with a few strands of grey, even though he appeared to be on the younger side. I’d probably have grey hair too if I had more than one doctorate, she thought with an inward chuckle before resuming her observations. He wore wire-framed glasses that had a tendency to slide down his nose, and she could clearly see the smile lines that surrounded his vivid green eyes. Just as she was debating whether or not she should try to give him her number or just simply ask for the handsome stranger’s name, he closed her notebook and looked up at her.

“Well, there were a couple of mistakes with some formulas but other than that, everything looks great! Not bad for a person who says they don’t know the difference between a nucleotide and an enzyme.” His teasing words and flirtatious smile caused her stomach to flutter.

“Thank you,” She took her notebook back and clutched it to her chest. “Now I’ve just gotta study all this and try to pass my final on Friday.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine; your notes are very thorough and well-written, so you shouldn’t have any problem.”

“Easy for you to say, dude, you’ve probably got half-a-dozen PhD’s under your belt.” Her eyebrows rose when he gave her a sheepish look. “You’ve got more than that?”

The man shrugged as he shuffled his feet in embarrassment. “I’m not really the type to brag.” A silence fell over them for several moments until he spoke up again, his timid green eyes fixated on hers. “I, um, I just wanted to say that I think it’s wonderful you’re involved in the sciences…as a woman, I mean, because women haven’t always been encouraged into pursuing STEM careers but times are finally changing and I…well, I-I think it’s admirable.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly and he gave her a half smile that made her heart skip a beat. “You know, it’s like what Nichelle Nichols used to say: ‘Science is not a boy’s game, it’s not a girl’s game. It’s everyone’s game. It’s about where we are…’”

“‘…and where we’re going.’” (Y/N) smiled bashfully at the impressed look he was giving her and fiddled with the metal spiral holding her notebook together. “Lieutenant Uhura was my favorite Star Trek character when I was a kid. That’s sweet of you to say, Doctor…?”

“Bruce. My name’s Bruce.”

She shook his outstretched hand. “(Y/N).” Their eyes met and her breath hitched as she took in the intensity of his gaze, barely aware that their hands were still touching and that she could smell his intoxicating cedar cologne. The intensity of her courses that semester meant that she hadn’t had much time for romance but judging by the way she felt herself react to Bruce in the brief amount of time she’d known him, she could easily imagine herself charging headfirst back into the world of dating alongside the handsome scientist standing so close to her.

“Now approaching Grand Central Station!”

“This is me,” Bruce looked almost disappointed at the announcement but then his green eyes suddenly lit up; he scrambled to pull his wallet out and finally pulled out a business card as the train stopped and the doors opened. “Here’s my number, let me know how your test goes! It was really nice talking to you, (Y/N)!” With a small wave, he pushed through the packed train and out of sight.

“Bye Bruce,” (Y/N) mumbled dejectedly; she’d finally met a nice guy but he was gone as quickly as he came. But at least I have his number, she thought with a growing grin, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long while. She looked down at the business card in her hand and nearly dropped it in surprise, for printed neatly on the card was the name Dr. Bruce Banner. “Holy shit! I had an Avenger look over my biology notes?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, let me get this straight: you met a beautiful woman on the subway the other day, bonded over your shared nerdy love of science and Star Trek, and even stared into each other’s eyes for a little bit like they do in those cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies…yet you didn’t bother to try and get her number? Geez, you’re rustier at all this than Capsicle!”

Pulling away from his microscope, Bruce took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I already told you, Tony, I gave her my business card before I got off the train. If she wants to contact me, then she will and we can see where we go from there.”

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed as he spun his desk chair around in a circle. “Yeah, that’s just the way every woman dreams of being wooed. Ever hear of romance, Brucie?”

“Did you seriously just call me-?”

“If you knew her last name and where she went to school, then we could have J.A.R.V.I.S. track her down and then you could go down there and surprise her…” The billionaire’s face illuminated with a bright smile. “I’m talking flowers, chocolates, expensive dinner reservations, front-row tickets to Hamilton, the whole shebang. You could easily sweep this chick off her exhausted and stressed-out feet, dude, if only you’d just bothered to take a page out of your BFF’s book.”

Bruce snorted. “And conversely, have you ever heard of stalking in the fourth degree? Those tricks might work with Pepper but you’re you and I’m me, Tony, and I’m definitely not the kind of guy that women would want to be swept off their feet by. I can’t even remember when I last went on a date, it’s been so long-”

The muffled chiming of Bruce’s cellphone echoed throughout the laboratory and interrupted his protests; he unearthed the phone from beneath a pile of loose papers and frowned when he noticed a new text message from an unknown number, but his confusion quickly shifted to elation once he read the text.

Unknown: Hi Bruce, this is (Y/N) from the train. You’ll be pleased to know that I got an A on my final!

The gif of a cutely-animated Spock dancing around in circles on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise made Bruce snort in amusement, and it was soon followed up by a second text.

Unknown: Would it be too forward to ask if I can buy you a coffee, to thank you again for double-checking my notes and brightening my day?

“It seems that I might’ve misjudged your mystery lady…” Tony admitted as he peered over Bruce’s shoulder at the cell phone in his hand, a small but genuine smile on his bearded face. “You know what the word ‘halcyon’ means? It indicates a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful, but a funny thing about that word is that can also describe happiness in the general sense.” Bruce arched a brow and the billionaire shrugged. “Pepper’s got me listening to some philosophy podcasts, they’re weird but pretty good. My point is that your chance for halcyon isn’t gone, my Jolly Green friend; it’s quite literally in the palm of your hand, but you’ve gotta be the one to hold on tight to it.”

The billionaire clapped Bruce on the shoulder and whistled a show-tune as he left him alone in the laboratory. The scientist reveled in the lighthearted feeling that threatened to consume him, unable to recall the last instance he’d felt so pleased to receive a simple text; (Y/N) knew about the Other Guy and the life Bruce led as an Avenger, and yet she still reached out on her own volition and even invited him out for coffee. It was presumptive to assume she felt the same way about him, but he’d be naïve not to acknowledge the intensity that had been evident in her (Y/E/C) eyes when they shook hands on the train.

“It’s just a cup of coffee,” Bruce muttered to himself, nervously biting his lip as he stared down at his phone, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard in hesitation. “Not necessarily my halcyon…”

The scientist typed out his enthusiastic reply and he couldn’t help but smile again, his heart hammering away in his chest as he thought about all the data he’d need to collect to prove his halcyon hypothesis correct and how nice it would be to have a scientist as lovely as (Y/N) to conduct some experiments alongside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Aww, I love a happy ending! Bonus points to anyone who can guess which show-tune Tony was humming (Hint: It’s from an old film musical that people consider to be a Christmas movie lol). Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season!

Fanfiction Masterlist

Marvel Taglist: @brooke0297

All Works: @crowleysqueenofhell @momc95 @groovy-lady​

[mikodrawnnarratives]

Two years ago I started on ideas for a full blown rewrite of Miraculous Ladybug. And it was the result of bad faith critiques against the show and just an overwhelming amount of salt I didn't realize I could filter. I lost my enjoyment but I did think of a lot of ideas for what could have happened in the show. It was kinda like "oh I haven't seen anyone else do it so I'll make a rewrite that makes everyone happy"

Completely ignorant that I was not original, it's been done before, etc.

Is it any surprise I burned out hard on that lmao. I barely posted stuff for this and yet here I am. Burnt out from my self imposed perfectionism and consistently going back and forth on if I think the show is bad enough to warrant a full rewrite. It wasn't ever going to last since my fuel was trying to create something that everyone would be happy with.. impossible.

I think after reading enough text posts from bugga chat I think the show can be viewed in a way that is better done than you'd expect. I enjoyed creating stuff Abt ml much more when I wasn't bogged down by salters

I've realized I like creators (bugga chat & Anne scribbles to name a couple) that enjoy the show a lot more than creators that don't. And I also don't think I can top Zoe's Scarlet Lady au in terms of fixing canon's issues and characterization. That's a full blown project I recommend checking out lol

And y'know, even if I wrote this out, I'd be catering for an audience I just don't agree with anymore. Like, Chloe redemption arc for instance, I don't think canon was perfect with how they handled Chloe but I also don't think that arc was destined to be a redemption and they did a 180.

I've begun to feel DEEPLY uncomfortable with some Chloe stans (not all) too since the show implies Chloe's bullying of Marinette was had racist intentions and now that I realize that I.. idk I just feel uncomfortable with some perceptions of Chloe. I still like the idea of a redemption arc for her but I don't really want to be the one to write it and make it work lmao

I still have a lot of ideas for this au/rewrite I think could be cool I also just don't want to rewrite everything in the show for them.

So. What next.

Omg that felt cool to say wowsers anyway

This isn't to say I'm abandoning anything JOTG related, don't fear if you follow the side blog. I just won't be writing anything like full seasons and this'll be just fanart and ramblings of ideas to accompany them. I'll leave it to everyone else to imagine a show that foreshadows and builds on any of those ideas.

No guarantees about how often I'll draw for those ideas (especially since my biggest hyperfixations at the moment are different fandoms) but it feels like significantly less pressure for me to put on myself haha. Look forward to the fanart cuz, again, I do think I have some BOMB ideas for how canon could be different

Thx for reading! :)

[jmoonjones]

Do you write fanfics? if so, i feel like id really enjoy reading your fics based on how much i like your art :)

I love fan fiction as a reader, and I used to write a lot of it too - back in the days when lemon meant spicy. 

I've been gradually rediscovering my love of writing lately, and spellcheck has improved so much that hardly anyone can tell I'm dyslexic! 

Long story short:

I was a copy writer for many years. I've been the social media voice for a wide swath of brands (eg. liquor, beauty, movies, cpg, etc!) during my time in advertising. For years my writing was consumed by a voice that wasn't mine, and while I could juggle writing for several different properties at one time for my job, my own voice somehow got lost in the process.  Writing for work kinda kills writing for pleasure and makes you terribly insecure about anything you manage to scribble down.

Especially when you're just writing puns all day. (Brands love puns)

Years later (and thankfully no longer a copy writer) I'm still working on recovering and finessing my lost voice. 

But practice is, of course, what helps the most and what better practice is there than writing fan ficiton?! 

I don't have anything I'm anywhere near confident in sharing right now, but I'm hoping that will change as I continue to practice! 

(I said 'long story short' but ignored my own advice lol)

(tbf, there is a much longer version of the story but I've already rambled enough)

[box4brains]

Lol, submas really is taking over my life 🤣 went rummaging through my apartment in search for pen and paper…

Haven’t drawn crap for years but… I’m working on a Thing(TM) (lol, just kidding)

Let’s just say Arceus finally found a way to restore Ingos memory and send him home… there’s just one problem;

(Please ignore my hastily scribbled reference for Audino…😅)

Yes, Ingo is being chocked Pikachu at finding he’s been transformed into a Pokémon

Ingo doesn’t look exactly like an Audino

Yes, he and Emmet will meet

Emmet will quickly figure out it’s actually Ingo

Some small angst when Ingo meets Chandelure and they’re unable to interact (touch) each other due to Ingos pure Normal typing

I don’t want to ramble on too much, I need to get back to fully fleshing out Ingos Audino form.

I apologize for everything (and nothing), got it good from a ff where the submas were turned into Pokémon… most adorable shit ever

[t3chborb]

About me & this blog

Hello, call me T3, Birb, or Borb, whichever you prefer.

I've made this silly corner of the internet because I have an unhealthy obsession with a fictional character and want to contribute to the fandom, be it feeding the algorithms with likes n reblogs n shit or my own produce :P

Unique tags found on this blog:

Borb's Scribbles (art)

Borb's Rambles (thoughts, theories, etc)

Borb's Garbage Dump (works in progress, may or may not get finished)

Borb Answers (ask responses. May sometimes also feature scribbles and rambles, depending on the ask)

Not mine (obvious lol)

Unholy Abomination - universal mature tag, may contain either adultery or robot guts. Used liberally just in case, even if the art is technically sfw

Other noteworthy things:

English isn't my native language, my apologies if my words are hard to read or understand

This blog is hyperfocused on Ramram. Probably a stupid idea in the long run but this account is a semi-throwaway anyway

I don't reblog much as I lowkey don't see the point. This is a place for my produce, not a spam blog. That said reblogs do show up on the rare occasion. I do my best to make up for this by leaving likes and comments on other's posts to show support :)

I'm here to have a good time, not cause or experience discourse, so please don't be a jerk, just block me and ignore me if my existence bothers you

I am, to some extend, a pro-shipper. I barely have any preferences when it comes to Ram ships, I'm fine with just about any (including self-inserts and OCs)

There are some shipping dynamics I don't like, one or both characters being OOC as hell, general toxicity and abuse, underage x adult, non-con, things of that nature, but I'm fine with pretty much anything deemed "problematic", assuming the issue is handled reasonably well (and if it's not handled well... the creator has a right to vent via creative media, even if I don't like said media. Better have them let out their frustrations creatively than... you know. Actually acting on them.)

For Ram fandom's "problematic" ship specifically, I'm neutral on Ramyatta, slightly leaning towards the don't like it territory, but for reasons other than the whole pseudo-incest thing (it's not incest in my eyes because robots don't have genes and monastery titles, but I can see how Ram and Zen calling each other "brother" is offputting)

I generally don't take requests, but if I happen to vibe a lot with a certain concept, I might just draw it

I'm open to talking, but I'm shy and perfectionistic. So please don't take it personally if I don't respond for a while ;-; I'll try to do my best.

I am a-okay with naughty topics, just know that I'll probably be embarrassed about it

About my art:

Krita 5.2 + Huion Kamvas Pro 16

My "style" is inconsistent as fuck as I'm going to be experimenting a lot for improvement purposes

If you wish to use my art, I am fine with the following:

Profile pictures, profile backgrounds, device wallpapers (with credit provided somewhere easily accessible, if it's shown publicly)

Coloring uncolored lineart

Side Note 1: I would like to know about you using my work, but telling me isn't mandatory (provided you follow these rules)

Side Note 2: Almost all art posted has been heavily downscaled from the originals (about 3 times smaller), so they may look terrible in certain use cases. If you want the full res, reach out to me privately, I'll send it over if I'm confident that you won't misuse it

I am NOT fine with the following:

Commercial use of any kind

Feeding into AI generators

NFT nonsense

Modifications of any kind EXCEPT coloring plain lineart

Reposting anywhere, especially Tumblr. If you REALLY want to share my stuff, I'm flattered, but please use links instead...

[neonkoii]

sooo now y’all have heard abt the wellness teacher who plays ed sheeran .. we had to do a 3 page journal entry for that class so naturally i filled 3 pages with drawings instead of writing

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Rei + Eichi for 2 / 17 on prompt list B PLS. If you don't mind, could make Eichi as lee? He definitely deserves this

Shut up

Pls I'll take any excuse to bully Eichi, esp. after getting a dupe of his 5* card in the current eng banner lol. Plus I'll happily write for my old man 💖

Hope you like it :D

Tickle prompts

2. “You’re totally asking for it.”

17. “I’m gonna tickle you until you cry.”

___________________________________________

Rei x Eichi (interpret as you wish)

Lee: Eichi

Ler: Rei

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

It was bright and early in the day, which means it was the perfect time to take a nap. Rei was happily snuggled up in his coffin, his mind starting to slowly drift away into a peaceful sleep. That was until he was oh so rudely interrupted by his roomate, Eichi. The blonde started bickering about how innapropriate it was of him to be sleeping in a coffin. Rei tried his best to ignore him, assuming he would eventually shut up. But I guess Eichi just loves hearing himself talk 'cause he wouldn't shut up for anything that's holy.

Rei let out a soft grunt as he sat down, his sleepiness long gone. He observed Eichi go off in his nonsensical rambling until he felt like it was time to get him to keep quiet. Rei got up from his coffin, approaching the blonde with a teasy grin and a menacing aura. Feeling a bit unneasy with the sudden change in atmosphere, Eichi tried to take a step back, only to fall flat in his bed. "W-what are you doing? Haven't you heard of personal space?!".

"Please, you know exactly what I'm about to do. At this point, you're totally asking for it" Rei gave him a wicked grin as he closed the gap between them. He wiggled his fingers threateningly towards Eichi, causing him to let out a soft gasp at the sight.

"You wouldn't dare...".

"Oh but I do~ I'm gonna tickle you 'till you cry!" the self proclaimed vampire declared as he lost no time shooting his hands down towards Eichi's torso, scribbling along the sides of his tummy.

"Hngh! Mhmhmhm...!" the blonde bit down on his lip, not wanting to give the other the satisfaction of hearing him laugh. He squirmed from side to side, but with Rei practically on top of him it was hard to get away.

"Look at that, you've gone dead quiet for once. But now I wanna hear you laugh~" the brunnette moved his hands up to the other's ribs, prodding and squeezing at the ticklish bones. Eichi chocked on a laugh, almost losing it. But he managed to remain stubbornly quiet, although Rei could still easily hear all of his muffled giggles. "If you don't give me what I want, it'll just get worse for you~" with that, Rei swiftly climbed on top of Eichi's hips to make sure the other couldn't escape. He shot him a teasy wink as he shoved his hands into Eichi's armpits.

"AHH! GYAHAHAHAHAHA!" and that's when the dam broke. Eichi's uncharacteristic, obnoxious laughter instantly filled up the room as Rei attacked that dreaded spot. All kinds of funny sounds came out of the blonde. His shrieks and squeals of delight were like music to the brunnette's ears. His face was cherry red from how hard he was laughing, even tears were starting to prick the corner of his eyes. He tried pushing Rei off of him but that meant giving him easier access to his armpits, so he remained with his arms clamped down as tightly as he could. Getting lost in his boisterous laugh. For a moment Eichi thought that Rei was going to end him for real, that was until his saving grace walked into the room.

Aira had returned back to their shared dorm because he had forgotten his phone. He swung the door open "Sorry, forgot something-" and stopped dead in his tracks as he observed the scene in front of him. Rei straddling Eichi along the waist while the other was panting as if he had ran a marathon. Without saying a word, Aira walked out of the room, slamming the door shut. Pretending he hadn't seen anything. At this point he should be used to their antics.

Once the other two were alone once more, Rei looked down at Eichi with a sinister grin "So where was I? Oh right, I remember~" and just like that Eichi was reduced to a pile of incoherent laughter as Rei went back to tickling the sweet spot. Hopefully he'll learn his lesson this time.

___________________________________________

I was feeling pretty bleh today but writing this made me feel better ngl ^^

[sourholland]

congrats on 1k!!! i have a blurb request, could you do something with timmy catching feelings for the reader, but he can't be with her because he's already seeing someone? also he doesn't cheat (v important). thanks lol 😖

late blurb requests !

Lauren is amazing.

She’s the perfect girlfriend. Between her understanding demeanor and undeniable compassion, everyone truly finds something to love about her. Lauren’s the type of girl you bring home to meet your mom. The type of girl you feel safe with.

Worst of all, Timothée knew all that.

She had this way of making her presence known, that was one of the first things he’d noticed about her. That, and her bright red hair in a cluster of brown haired friends at that club one night so many months ago. He got her number, they went out a few times, and he asked her to be his girlfriend.

Things didn’t get messy until you came around seven months into their relationship. You were completely oblivious to the fact that he had made himself sick with guilt every time he was around you. He didn’t mean to harbor the illicit feelings, he truly didn’t.

And you were utterly clueless.

You and Lauren weren’t quite friends, but more so acquaintances. She worked with your ex-girlfriend, whom you were with when you met her and Timothée. Once you and Olivia broke up, you got into a relationship a few months later with Joshua.

Josh was also quite integrated into the friend group. You’d seen each other while getting drinks within the group, but didn’t actually converse until after you were single. Timothée had hoped and prayed he wouldn’t have to see you when the split with Olivia took place—this wasn’t the case, though. It was only a matter of time before Josh’s arm was around you, a bottle of wine in a soft pink gift bag for the dinner party Lauren wanted to throw.

The whole night, he tried to look away from you. He willed himself to look at his beautiful girlfriend, to relish in the fact that he was in a relationship with such an amazing woman. Your laugh, he thought to himself. It was like the feeling of listening to your favorite song in the car with the windows down on the highway.

And god your smile. He had never seen something quite so lovely. Every time you looked his way that night, a blush seemed to spread over his cheeks. It was only the rush of guilt that came after that made him wish he could just send you home and never have to see you again.

“I absolutely adored your new movie, Timothée!”

He spent the next half an hour rambling on and on and on about his career. You sat listening intently, nodding and speaking at all the right times. He wished he could ignore the way you scrunched your nose up, or swirled the red wine in your cup.

Once you’d left, he offered to clean up the table while Lauren got ready for sleep. When he got to your placemat, he picked up the glass you’d been drinking from all night and noticed the stain of red lipstick where you’d been sipping. Without thinking, he brought it straight to the kitchen and rinsed it away so he’d never have to look at it again.

A month or two later, Josh informed the same work group that you two had broken things off, but would still remain friends. Timothée assumed this was just the normal break up excuse, until Josh invited you to the club they usually inhabited on Saturday nights.

The whole night was spent watching you throw back shots of tequila, throwing your arms around people on the dance floor. The way you pressed your body against the nearest stranger had him almost seething with unwarranted jealousy. He watched you flip your hair, press your lips along the jaw of a beautiful girl with the most lovely russet complexion, and go through alcohol like it was nothing.

He hated himself for not being able to tear his eyes away. Hated himself for wanting you.

Lauren wasn’t stupid, she wasn’t oblivious like you. Her eyes flickered from you to him, but strange enough—not for a minute did she resent you. Only him. She noticed you scribble your number onto a napkin for the girl you’d been dancing with, doodling little hearts around the numbers. Lauren waited for his reaction, met with his look of complete and utter hatred for himself. He looked torn, like he wanted to be anywhere else in that moment.

And then you yelled a quick and flattered goodbye across the bar, something about deciding to head out for the night. He watched the girl lean in and kiss you on the lips, saying something about texting you. Her name was Nora, she had a pretty smile and dimples. Timothée picked up on this while he studied the interaction.

“See you guys!” You shouted with a drunken smile. “My uber is out front.”

Taking a drink, he felt Lauren’s present when she sat down on the barstool beside him. Looking over at her, he knew she knew and that there was no way to relish in his own self pity at this point.

With a final glance at you, he saw the door of the bar close. You were gone.