#it's almost impossible for me to pick answers to these questions btw

[mithrilhearts]

Ey-up chook! What is your favourite setting for a bagginshield fic, and what would you say are your three most beloved tropes?

Hello there totally Anonymous Anon!

I'm not really picky about the setting of a bagginshield fic! I am such a huge fan of Reshirement and Consort Bilbo, so those are always huge pluses for me. I also enjoy a good modern au! There are a few settings/tropes/aus that I probably would steer away from, but not nearly as many as the ones I'd be willing to read.

If I had to choose my favorite setting as a writer/reader, it would probably be within the post-botfa, everyone lives/nobody dies, whether it's Reshirement or Consort Bilbo, it doesn't matter. So long as there is a happy ending, I am content.

My top three most beloved tropes...

Fluff

Fairytale AU

Hurt/Comfort

Thanks for the ask, totally Anonymous Anon! This makes me want to go write more fics now, let's goooo!!!

[lanaslovelyletters]

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 ³

𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬...

Anakin x Princess!Reader

Part 3

Previous chapter: Part 2

Overall series warning: 18+ content (smut), mature themes, swearing

Warnings: Light swearing (but who cares about this)

Last chapter recap: “The dark lord completely ignored your question, letting himself calm down before backing off and walking towards the door. Before he left, he got a final word in, “We’re to wed in a week. You’ll stay here until then.” What..?”

Summary: He continues to fend off your questions until you decide to be bold, to which he retaliates…

Word Count: 1.5K+

Author’s note: So many people asked to be on the taglist and ily guys ugh❤️ Also, sorry for going AWOL. Had a lot of stuff on my plate<3 Btw, for everyone on the taglist, don’t worry if you change your username. If I tagged you before, I can tag you again<3

Taglist: @blackthorngirl @formula1mount @bby-imasociopath @anakinsbaee @darthgloris @tatumrileyslover @itzmeme @lunalitva @marvellover98 @rorysbrainrot @moonlight-dreamer04 @kittyrumbl3r @itsoneofusworld

“You’re not being serious.” You scoffed, almost grinning, but when you saw the look on his face— everything melted into dread and disappointment. He stared at you with stern-looking eyes before shutting the door behind him. You heard sharp noises emerge from the door, meaning he locked it.

“You’ve got to be joking.” You laughed dryly before your body hit the bed. It was fluffy and felt like a warm hug. A stark contrast to the situation you found yourself stuck in. It was unbelievable, really. You were seriously to marry a Sith Lord. A slave to the dark side. Sure, he was handsome, but only as handsome as an apple could be.

Alas, you were far too tired to think about the whole ordeal. Your eyes grew heavy and it was becoming increasingly harder not to nod off… and finally, it grew all black.

(Break)

You woke up to the darkness of space creeping in through the single window you had in the room. It was impossible to tell how long you’d slept and how long you’d be staying there. Nobody would tell you a thing, and the Dark Lord would certainly never give you any answers.

A sudden knock pulled you out of your little trance, and the door burst open. In walked two troopers. They marched in, picking you up from the bed with a strong force. Didn’t Vader mention I’d stay here for a week? What’s going on? Ironically enough, you decided not to struggle or fight back. It’s not as if going back home was a choice anymore. You knew the dark side wasn’t forgiving anyway. 

“I’m not a rag doll. I know how to walk,” you complained, as you felt your body sliding across the cold, polished floor. When there was no response, you scoffed. It was loud enough for them to hear, but it wasn’t like they cared. They were simply following orders like mindless robots. It was as if it was their input.

After passing through several corridors and riding multiple elevators, you finally found yourself being dragged along to a dimly lit dining room. The layout was nothing fancy. A large table and chairs to go along with it. On one end sat Vader. He still donned his pitch-black suit, with his eyes trained on you. The way his hair fell around his face and the way his Adam’s Apple bopped as he gazed at you— it was to swoon over. You were made to sit opposite him. You didn’t dare move. You knew he could end me with the flick of his fingers.

“I hope you have an appetite.” Maker, his voice. It was rough yet smooth, velvety yet rigid… you were drowning in the octaves.

“Not much of an appetite when I’ve just been taken hostage.” No, you couldn’t give in. He was handsome to be sure, but he was still a ruthless sith.

“Hostage? You’re not a hostage, love.” Love. What was he playing at?

“I’m… not?” Your eyebrows were furrowed along with a scrunch of your nose.

“Hostage implies you’re here against your will and that I await someone to negotiate for you… I plan to keep you.” Though his words seemed daring and almost devious, his facial expression and tone told you a different story. He was a wall. Cold and without feeling. He seemed serious and determined.

“Why me? How did you know my father? Why did you want my family killed?” You furrowed your eyebrows. His gaze remained fixed on you, as he breathed heavily and got up from his seat. His boots hit the floor in a threatening manner. When he stopped in front of you, his gloved hand held your chin softly. So soft that you almost felt comfortable in his presence.

“Curiosity killed the cat, princess.” As you let your head be lifted ever so gently, you saw the stark contrast between his touch and his demeanour. His stare was blank and icy. It was as if no life existed behind his eyes. Eyes that were otherwise so… never mind. 

“Luckily, I’m not a cat,” Bold. Quite bold. Did you care? No. You had about as much control over him as he did you. He wasn’t going to kill you. No, if he wanted to, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. He wanted to wed you. To have you as his bride. As sickening as the idea of that was, at least you wouldn’t die anytime soon. 

“You’re quite carefree for someone who’s lost her entire family and been taken against her will.” You could’ve sworn you saw a faint smirk swiftly make an appearance before being washed out by his brooding expression.

Oh, but there was something about his face. It did seem familiar. You couldn’t place your finger on it. There wasn’t anything that stood out in particular, but oh there was something about his face.

“I’m talking to you,” he spoke in a rough voice, before tightening his grip on your face, burying his fingers into your cheeks

“I’m not scared of you, Sith.” A grin. His lips contorted into a wide smile as he let out a scoff,

“You’ve got moxie. I’ll give you that.” Your eyes met his. Force, if I had ever seen a man—

“Moxie? I beg to differ. Why would I be scared of a lowly Sith Lord like you? You’re not even the emperor. Are you even strong enough to—”

“Princess,” he breathed as he snaked his hand tightly around your neck, the pads of his fingers snuggled themselves into your soft skin. The tension was palpable. It could be cut with a knife. The way you continued to defy him and resist him…he hated it. You were such a pretty little thing, but so stubborn too. Too set in your ways.

“We all have our… limits. You’re starting to test mine, your highness.” Something about him addressing you as ‘highness’ clashed so hard with the circumstances you found yourself in; it gave you whiplash.

“I want answers…” your whisper came out shaky. Not because you were starting to lose your footing. No, it was his grip on your throat. If anything, you almost found him humorous. He was creating a paradox and running around in circles; essentially embarrassing himself.

“I don’t want to give you any.” You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. His logic was deeply flawed and there was no wrapping your head around where it started or ended. It was a mess. A tangled mystery for you to sit and braid together to form a clear path.

“I don’t want to marry you, but here we are.”

“Let me rephrase. I can’t.” His gaze diverted to the floor. He was clearly struggling. Either to recall or decide whether or not to do so.

“I don’t understand.” Your throat was slowly released, as he walked towards the door to the room.

“Can you at least tell me why you chose me? Out of all the women in this galaxy… Why me?” Your feet had somehow carried you off to go after him. He walked with purpose through several corridors, taking swings and turns to try and throw you and the question off.

“Please?” Admittedly, you were getting impatient. Desperate. 

“Say, would you like to know how I went about ending your father’s life?” He suddenly turned around with a menacing look on his face. It wasn’t maniacal. It was as if you were staring into a blank wall.

“Excuse me?” What the hell is wrong with him? Your eyes darted to the floor before you lifted your head back up to meet his.

“I asked you if you wanted to know how I killed your father. How I—“

“No, I heard you the first time. How does that have anything to do with my question?” He smirked for a moment before his smile faltered,

“You’re completely unphased. Didn’t think the king was that much of a horrible father.” How could he address your father like that? With that knowledge? How did he know your father like that?

“Yeah, well… he was. So give me an answer to my question. Why me?” The two of you stopped in front of a large white door. It had a face recognition lock on it.

“Because… I know you.” His voice dropped an octave as he stared at your reaction. You weren’t shocked, just confused.

He scanned his face and the entrance to a dark room was revealed. You were just about to follow him before he turned around,

“Do you wish to retire with me for the night?” What? Your brow bunched up together and you lightly shook your head,

“No… of course not.”

“Then I suggest you stop following me.” A grin was apparent on his lips.

“Evening, princess.” The door closed behind him and you were left standing there; completely dumbfounded. However, this unlocked a window for you to walk around freely, trying to find a way to escape. There didn’t seem to be any stormtroopers around. Marrying a Sith was that of nightmare fuel. It didn’t matter how gorgeously his hair fell around his face and how his scar elevated his overall appearance. He was a Sith Lord.

You needed to find a way out. By all means necessary.

To be continued…

Please DM, comment, or ask to be added on the taglist<3

Here’s the masterlist<3

[slytherheign]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS | daniel ricciardo

PART 4/4 OF BROKEN GLASS AND HONEY SERIES.

CAN ALSO BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT.

PAIRINGS: ex!daniel ricciardo x fem!reader, max verstappen x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

SUMMARY: sometimes you just don’t know the answer until someone’s on their knees and asks you.

WARNINGS: rejection, false hope, infatuation, feelings of hurt and overwhelming pain. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. we have reached the end of the series! sorry if i hurt some of you emotionally. btw, there are a lot of references to the previous parts in this.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Rejection.

A word that carried so much weight in matters of the heart. It hit him with a force he never saw coming, leaving him breathless, bewildered, and questioning every decision he had made.

The pain of rejection cut deep, undermining the confidence he once had, and casting shadows over the hopes and dreams he dared to envision. 

Rejected.

Rejected from McLaren.

Rejected from a Red Bull seat.

And now, he was rejected once again.

In an instant, his world felt shattered, and he questioned just how worthy he truly was of love and affection.

He poured his heart out, baring his soul in that vulnerable moment when he knelt on one knee. He thought you had shared something meaningful, a connection that was genuine and real.

He thought it would be enough.

Daniel’s car traveled home with one less person inside that night. But even if he was already in his garage, he refused to step out of his car. He stayed so he could sit there in his hurt. 

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil within him.

It was hard, almost impossible, not to take it personally, to wonder what could have gone wrong. Was it something he said? Something he did? Or perhaps it was simply a matter of timing and circumstance, beyond his control.

He ran his hand through his hair, his face reflecting a mixture of frustration and resignation.

He could say that he longed for clarity, a glimpse into your thoughts and reasons, but that would be a lie. Because in all honesty, he kind of saw it coming.

He wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that you picked Max or the fact that there was a part of him that always knew you would pick Max.

Why did he even try?

Oh, right.

Hope.

Because of hope.

He tried because you showed him hope.

You showed him hope—a glimmer of light that he hadn't seen in ages. Life had become monotonous, blending into an array of muted gray, until you came along. Your entry into his life was like a vibrant burst of color, injecting new life into his weary soul. He dared to hope, to believe that he had found something extraordinary.

It was a peculiar feeling. To be caught between longing and despair, to have his heart both soar and shatter within the same breath. The intoxicating aura of love was both a beacon of hope and a cruel illusion, and he found himself entangled in that painful paradox.

With a final deep breath, he left his car, ready to face his family who were staying in his home just for this special night. He told his family for a reason, he just couldn’t keep it in.

But now he wished he didn’t.

Cheer and applause were what met him when he entered the door. His family had huge smiles plastered on their faces, clearly excited about the news they were expecting. 

Until it stopped.

It all stopped when his lips trembled, trying to fake a smile. 

It all stopped when they saw the tears on his face.

They didn’t even need to ask what happened. They already knew.

His sister splashed out the bottle of Dom Perignon, but no one was celebrating. 

"She would've made such a lovely bride. What a shame she's fucked in the head," his father said. His mom’s ring was still in his pocket, and your picture was still in his wallet. But love… 

Love slipped beyond his reaches.

There was nothing to celebrate.

Max was walking you home, still holding the umbrella to protect you from the rain. Neither of you spoke and neither of you really cared. Max knew, from the way your lips shook, eyes cried, and the whimpers that left your mouth, that you did not want to speak at that moment. He respected and understood that.

He was more understanding now than he was before.

You were speechless. Your mouth could not utter a single word, but your mind made up for it by clouding itself with overwhelming thoughts.

You remembered that one night when fate played a part in your first meeting with Daniel. 

That night, he asked you to dance and you refused. You refused because you knew he was asking you to dance to a song of love and new beginnings.

But after a single conversation, it was you who asked him if he was still willing to dance.

You always knew that dancing was a dangerous game. But that night, you started it when you offered your hand to Daniel.

The dance continued. 

But now, you dropped his dance while dancing. Left him out there, crestfallen on the landing with your champagne problems.

One for the money.

Two for the show.

You never were ready.

So, you let him go.

And you left him alone.

You just didn’t know the answer until he was already on his knees and asked you.

You couldn’t even give him a reason.

His proposal should have brought you joy, excitement, and a feeling of being cherished. But instead, you had found yourself struggling, torn between the present and the ghosts of your past.

The same exact past that was walking beside you right now.

It was not that Daniel wasn't kind or loving, he truly was. He possessed all the qualities one could desire in a partner. But your heart lingered elsewhere.

There was someone before him. Someone who awoken a flame within you, a love so fierce and profound that it felt like it could withstand anything. And then, life happened, you drifted apart, and your paths diverged towards separate horizons.

But even as the seasons changed, and new opportunities came knocking at your door, that love never truly left you. It remained etched in the deepest recesses of your being, an indelible mark upon your soul.

Accepting his proposal would have been a betrayal, not only to him, but to yourself as well. It was a painful decision to make, but you owed it to yourself and to him, to be honest and not settle for anything less than a love that was pure. For one can only truly give their heart to another when they are whole themselves.

His heart was glass and you dropped it.

You didn’t even notice you reached your apartment until Max opened the door for you. He sat you down on your couch, before leaving you for a moment to heat some water and prepare a bath for you. 

He went back right after, crouching in front of you so he could see your face. You were looking down, still crying. He placed a finger under your chin, moving it upwards so you could face him. And then he fixed the wet hair that covered your face, wiped your tears, and kissed your forehead.

The heart wants what it wants, and yours was still beating in an unbreakable rhythm alongside the person in front of you—Max.

You suddenly recalled what Daniel told you before, when he told you an advice his father gave him and then he explained it.

“Time matters, yes. But the length is subjective. Love is not supposed to be a competition where time is the sole judge. Sometimes, longer doesn’t mean healthier, and shorter doesn’t make it insincere or artificial.”

He said that love was not supposed to be a competition. And he was not wrong about that.

It wasn’t a competition because it never was a competition in the first place.

You loved Daniel, but you were in love with Max.

It was always Max.

He poured his heart into that proposal, believing that you were the one. He had envisioned a future together with you, filled with love, laughter, and shared dreams. But perhaps fate had different plans in store for him. And though it stung him, he must pick up the pieces and keep moving forward.

His heart ached now. Those promises whispered in the darkest hours, the dreams woven with tender hands, they all shimmered with the possibility of a love that transcended boundaries. He clung to those words, as fragile as glass, praying that they would withstand the test of time.

Yet, here he was, lost in a labyrinth of broken dreams. The reality bit bitterly, gnawing at the frayed edges of his shattered heart. False hope, they called it. A cruel game of chance that you unwittingly roped him into. He knew, deep down, that you didn't do it intentionally. And that knowledge is what steeped his sorrow in a pot of bittersweet brew.

Because despite the pain that seared through his veins, he couldn't summon an ember of anger towards you. Love had a way of blinding people to the faults of those we held dearest. And so, he found himself teetering on the precipice of resentment and forgiveness, unable to fully commit to either.

It was a lonely place to be trapped in, the emotional escape room in his heart that didn't have an escape. The echoes of once-hopeful conversations reverberated through the hollow chambers of his mind, each word etching deeper into his wounded heart. 

Though the pain felt overwhelming now, Daniel knew that time would heal his wounds. It may take days, weeks, or even months, but he would pick up the pieces, rebuild his shattered heart, and learn to love again.

NETHERLANDS. AUGUST 25, 2024.

Daniel was running down the paddock, planning to head to the pitlane when a curious photographer stopped him to ask a question.

“Sorry for asking this, but I think I speak for all of us,” the photographer pointed to the fans behind him who were clearly recording this exact moment. They cheered the moment Daniel looked at them and he smiled. “When I say we are all curious about what really is your relationship with Y/N?” the photographer continued.

He chuckled. “Why did you want to know that?”

“Well, she hasn’t been beside you for months and then we just saw her with Max hours ago before you came.”

He could only smile, a genuine one.

“Y/N and I are friends, really close friends like what we’ve always been.”

“Really? Some of us thought you were dating because she was seen a lot with you before,” a fan shouted.

He laughed.

They didn’t need to know.

“What? I can’t have a female friend now?” he joked.

“Now that I’m thinking about it… you never launched anything,” the photographer mentioned.

Right. Even after dating you for months, you didn’t want to be affectionate with him in public. That was another telltale sign he chose to ignore. That was the reason he decided to propose in just under 6 months of being in a relationship with you. It was because he was in a rush, he thought that if you became engaged, you would finally let him tell the world about the two of you.

Now that he thought about it, maybe what he had was just an infatuation. An infatuation so intense that it hurt like the real thing. Maybe for so long, he just wanted to feel something and you came along at the right time. He didn’t even know anymore. And he didn’t want to know. It was all in the past.

“That’s right,” Daniel nodded. “Because we have nothing to launch.”

Just as he said that, you and Max entered his view. You two were holding hands and Max was laughing at something you said.

Daniel smiled.

“Look at them,” he gestured to you and Max, the photographer and the fans looked at who he was pointing to. “Max and her are literally meant for each other.”

“I’ve never seen Max laugh like that before,” the photographer said.

“Well, Y/N is the only one who could make him laugh like that if we’re being honest,” he chuckled again. “They make a great couple, they make each other so happy. And I’m happy for them,” he said.

Love wasn't a dead-end road; it was a winding path, full of twists and turns. Rejection was a part of that journey. For deep within, beyond the realms of rejection, dwelled a longing for love that refused to extinguish. He believed there was someone out there, someone who was meant to be for him, just as you were meant to be with Max.

There was one more thing Daniel always believed in other than taking chances.

It was that everything happens for a reason.

You and Max caught his eyes. Max nodded at him, he nodded back. 

If he could turn back time, he wouldn't change a thing.

He may not have found the love of his life, but he did find another best friend. 

He smiled at both of you, and you returned his smile.

You both knew Daniel would find the real thing instead.

She would patch up the tapestry that you shred.

And he wouldn’t even remember all your champagne problems.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld9 @princessria127

JOIN THE FINALE CELEBRATION!

[aris-ink]

can you do a drabble for yandere!jungkook x female reader where the reader has rape fantasy and asks jungkook to act the fantasy one day? (they're in an established relationship) and a touch of breeding kink✨ will be great. btw if you aren't comfortable writing the first kink then you can completely ignore this.♡

this is literally just cnc, a theme I've dealt with before and something that does require consent in the first place. so, yes ofc baby, thank you for asking though, ily <3 also, this... is a bit longer than a regular drabble

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: romance

warnings: con noncon, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of safe words, role play, hints of fear kink (threats, allusions to kidnapping), some knife play, manhandling, degradation, impact play (face slapping), hair pulling, implied sadism & masochism, choking, outdoor sex, rough sex (including oral), breeding kink, creampie, love love love, aftercare <3

It was a fact well known, truth be told; angels shouldn't wander around on their own in the dark, where twisted things tended to lurk. Yet somehow, here you were.

"Hi."

The greeting was murmured right into your ear, and you knew you were screwed.

It was past midnight and your shift ended over an hour ago. Too cold and tired to keep waiting for Jungkook, you gave up and started making your way home on foot. He'd lose it if he found out. He'd never let you go anywhere alone at this hour; but for the first time, he didn't pick you up right after work or answer any of your calls. And now, you were stuck in a dimly lit lot, devastatingly silent and empty save for the few cars parked there, with a muscular arm snaked around your waist and the sharp edge of a knife grazing your throat.

You could barely swallow, frozen in spot as the man's nose brushed your cheek, his chest firm against your back.

"Out for a walk?"

Caught off guard by the cold steel against your quickening pulse, you didn't really register the question. There was a possibility he could cut you up if you moved just an inch, and it was almost like he was teasing you with the threat. He gave your waist a squeeze, then nudged the back of your knee to coax you to move forward.

"Don't feel like talking, huh?" He sounded amused, though his voice was low, prompting a shiver as his words vibrated through your ear - and then through your core. "That's okay, I wasn't interested in talking either. I'm sure we can find some other good uses for that cute little mouth."

Left with no choice, you let him lead the way. It was naive of you to think that things couldn't get any worse. As you forced your legs to keep going, you were hit with a realization that made all the blood drain from your face. He wasn't steering you towards some dirty alley; or even towards the door of his car. He was steering you towards the trunk.

Your skin seemed to be crawling with static when you stopped before it, initial shock fading and alarms blaring through all your systems. He clicked it open with ease, inching the knife away from your throat. As if he needed it in the first place. You were all alone out here, and he was so much stronger than you. That much was obvious.

Your nails dug into his arm with unexpected harshness. You threw your head back in an attempt to slam it into his. He managed to dodge the blow, though - quite effortlessly, too - and your attack ended just as quickly as it began. It only earned you a surprised grunt, and a punishing yank at your hair that made your mouth fall open with a cry.

"Don't fucking test me," he hissed. His arm tightened around you roughly. "You'll be the prettiest good girl for me-" he whispered against your ear, "or you'll be the prettiest missing girl in the news. Your choice, baby. Yeah?"

The ground felt like it dropped from under your feet, liquid fire pooling in your tummy, making it sway along with the scenery around you. It was impossible not to notice how hard he was already, like he's been waiting for an occasion to pounce on you for much too long. His heavy pants warmed your nape, proving the gentler demeanor from earlier to be an act that was quickly unraveling the more you resisted him.

He pushed you inside, and your hands started to tremble, knees feeling weak. You didn't even get to turn your head back to glance at him in time before he shut the boot, plunging the cramped up space into darkness.

There was a few bumps in the road; you felt each one, exploring the smooth leather all around you. Mostly to familiarize yourself with your surroundings; but also to try grounding yourself and soothing your racing heart. The ride didn't seem long. It was hard to judge, though, when you were so pumped up on adrenaline and the air around you felt way too hot.

After all this, you had been right to expect to arrive somewhere deserted and unknown. As the trunk began to lift up, you were greeted with the bite of cold, night air and a masculine silhouette set against the moonlit sky.

He wasn't even bothered waiting until the damn car opened fully, giving you zero chance to take him by surprise again. He buried a tattooed hand in your hair, slapping the other over your mouth, both pushing you down with powerful force. In a knee jerk reaction, your own hands flew upwards to push him away, smacking against whatever they could reach; his arms, his shoulders, his chest. However, the strikes just seemed to bounce off of the thick muscles, doing little damage. It was pathetic how easy it was for him to overpower you, climb onto your chest, even with how you trashed under him. His fingers trapped your wrists, his crotch too close to your face, eclipsing the view of the woods behind him.

And yet despite all that, it was no easy task to unzip his jeans. Both of his hands were unsteady, partly from the arousal twisting through him, partly from your stubborn attempts at ripping your own hands out of his grasp.

Clenching his jaw, your assailant momentarily gave up on his pesky zipper. A loud crack pulsed through your entire skull, leaving your cheek sore and stars dancing around your eyes. He slapped you so hard the impact whipped your head to the side, then did it again. It was just enough to make him groan; just enough to give him the split second he needed to free his hard, aching cock and push his hips forward.

"Open," he snapped shakily, gritting his teeth when you started shaking your head, refusing him access to your mouth.

Taking advantage of his size, he shifted abruptly, imprisoning your arms beneath the weight of his muscular thighs.

And just like that it was game over.

One hand wrapped around his cock so he could aim better, one wrapped around your precious, little neck. He could feel a pulse beating from both sides, precum weeping from his flushed tip, dripping down your collarbones, your eyes dilating from the sudden lack of air.

It was the first time your gazes locked since he grabbed you in the parking lot. You looked so beautiful under him. Unable to help it, his hips kept thrusting forward in desperate need of friction, the wet head of his cock rubbing into your lips. A series of shallow, shaky breaths followed the motions, and he paid no mind to the mess he was making of you. In fact, the image only spurred him on. So did how impossible it was for you to get away from his raging hard on, no matter where your head turned.

At last, you gasped for air; and the moment you did, he groaned so loudly. Your throat was released and instead stuffed with his cock, fat and throbbing and way too long. It made your muscles constrict, instantly prompting you to choke. To him, though, it was the perfect fit, and he could have sobbed from the relief. The hooting and rustling of small, nocturnal creatures stirring in the bushes and the twisted branches of trees was utterly drowned out, replaced by the obscene, sloppy sounds of him rutting into your face, and the guttural moans fleeing him.

"Agh, fuck-" mindlessly, his fingers searched your skin, the rough pads pressing into your cheeks, squeezing, before burying in your hair again to tug at it.

He barely allowed you to catch a breath. Your lungs burned, thighs clenching and cheeks stained from tears. It was not mercy, but the tightening in his gut that made him stop abruptly, pulling out of your abused mouth. He left your throat and cunt aching and your head spinning, goosebumps breaking all over your arms.

"Fuck," he trembled as you coughed, leaning an arm above you. His cock twitched in front of your face, and even though you were the one being deprived of air until now, his chest heaved just as hard as yours. "I almost came."

He puffed out a laugh, looking down at you. His eyes were so dark, flashing with a dangerous desire that your cute, panic stricken expression had sadistically prompted to be voiced.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he cooed, squishing your cheeks. "I won't leave you empty."

The words turned your knees to cotton. You whimpered, shaking your head from side to side more vigorously, but he was already climbing off you and grabbing you by the arms to flip you onto your stomach. Heels on the ground and your upper half still stuck in the trunk of his car, you felt like a ragdoll, weak and quivering under his control.

You gasped when his hand sneaked in between your legs, two long digits stroking you through your underwear. He gasped too.

"What a good, little bitch. Fucking soaked. I'm going to ruin you forever, baby."

Your tummy twisted up so hotly you whined, terrified you were going to come. And he barely touched you. The mortification of it was enough for you to try squirming away, but it was futile. He didn't care about your inner dilemmas or how many times you'd come. All he cared about was getting his cock into your sopping cunt.

And that was what he did. Pulling the ruined cotton halfway down your thighs and plunging inside you, stretching out your warm, tight hole. Pounding into you so suddenly you shrieked, a reaction that thrilled him to no end. And unlike you he was not ashamed to show it, moaning into your ear. It felt like he's branded you from the inside, and you couldn't do anything about how much you clenched around him, the pleasure searing and so different from anything you've ever experienced before.

"So close," he breathed, "fuck, you gonna take it? Gonna take my cum like a good girl?"

You whined, still shaking your head, even though you were tightening more at his words, massaging him like a little toy, made just for him. He fucked you harder, as though he was determined to prove to you that you were going to do exactly as he said - and cream his cock while you were at it.

"Yeah, you are. You'll take everything I'll g-give you, fuck. Gonna take my cum every night until this pretty, little cunt is nice and bred. A-all mine, yeah."

You shivered, muscles tensing and mind numbed out, wiped clean of anything but the impending orgasm making you sweat and tingle all over.

"Oh, baby likes that?" The strained question came out as another moan. "Yeah, you do? You gonna be my little cumdump? Oh god - fuck! -"

You weren't sure if you heard more praises or insults, or both as he came, or if the ones from earlier were still simply floating around in your mind; turning it into a haunted house, a ruin, where the ghost of his presence would forever remain. Just like he promised.

Your vision swam and your cunt began to spasm around his cock, sucking him in greedily. He helped you ride out your high with hard, deep thrusts that made you cry. It felt so good, and even better when he started twitching inside you, pump after pump of hot seed filling you up.

Despite the uncomfortable position, he stayed inside you for a while, waiting for the tremors of your orgasms to pass. Mentally needing to feel you close just as much as you needed him while they did.

You squeezed his hand after a moment. He reacted immediately, giving it a tender squeeze back and lifting himself off you.

The ride back home was comfortably quiet. Despite having checked up on you already, he got you into bed and washed you with a warm cloth, taking the opportunity to examine your skin for any marks or cuts. You seemed fine, your eyes fluttering closed at the gentle touches appreciatively, a soft hum escaping your lips.

"Baby," he murmured, his free hand moving to cup your face. "Stay with me. I'm almost done."

You tried to open your eyes, finding Jungkook already looking at you. He kissed your forehead, then put the cloth away, somewhat vulnerable and careful in his approach towards you.

"Was it too much?" He asked quietly, almost like he felt guilty.

Frowning slightly, you reached out to touch his cheek.

"I know my safe word, Jungkook." That didn't seem very reassuring, so you quickly added, "And the taps, too."

He trusted you; of course he trusted you. He had no doubt you would have let him know had you wanted him to stop at any point, but he couldn't help himself.

Since meeting you, Jungkook had learned a lot about himself. He started into the shadows and dug through his insides, trying to find answers to questions that made him lose sleep. But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find any. Among the blood and the guts and the bones, he couldn't figure out why. Why did his love have to be all consuming, with teeth and claws that longed to tear into you just so he could feel your heart in his hands? Just to feel that he owned it; like some kind of wild, vicious beast. He always tried so hard not to let the intrusive thoughts win, to control his impulses when he touched you. Scared to death, he'd often slow down, the cold flood of questions in his head putting out the heat in his body. Did he go too rough? Did he take too much? Why did he always need so much?

It wasn't until you gathered up the courage to speak up one quiet night that everything clicked into place, and Jungkook found the disturbing noise in his soul settling down into serene warmth. Maybe he was some twisted, sad thing that didn't quite belong anywhere but in the shadows. But shadows couldn't exist without light, and you were his. A beautiful, lonely angel.

How discriminatory of heaven. There was just no place for you among the righteous if your halo happened to be broken. It didn't matter if you weren't the one that damaged it; god never did take responsibility for the cruelty of his creations.

But as long as Jungkook's own heart was beating, you never had to worry about anything - or anyone - ever again. All beasts protected what they owned.

He leaned his forehead on yours, searching your eyes for a moment.

"Do you think I'm-"

"No," you whispered, already knowing what he was going to ask. "Do you think I am?"

That was different, Jungkook thought, offended by the mere suggestion. No matter what the world thought of you, to Jungkook you were the only good he's ever known.

"No," he answered immediately. "You're perfect."

Not messed up. Perfect.

With his pyjamas on and teeth brushed, he slipped into the bed, arms locking around your waist. He was tired of overthinking. In the end, nothing outside of this room really mattered, as long as what you had worked for you both. And as far as Jungkook was concerned, looking down at your peaceful face right next to his; it worked.

Your leg slipped in between his thighs, head snuggling into his chest, even in your sleep.

Yeah. It worked.

[thesharktanksdriver]

(I realize that all your resent asks have been about your determination series,, amazing series btw,, but imma bout to break that streak with a question about the magical girl 🤞)

So I was rereading basically every work you’ve written,, cause it’s my therapy,, and I saw that you made a post about magical girl y/n and that Justice League movie “Crisis on two earths” I was wondering what that would be like?

In an other universe where all the heroes are evil is the magical girl also evil? (<<<evil magical girls 😻)

I thought about how y/n is like on neutral grounds but leans towards the “good side” more. So is “evil” y/n the same she just leans towards the “bad side” more?

And I don’t know about you but I’d love to see others reaction to a y/n who is aggressive or is just wearing black,, lol.

A potential villain y/n as just been a brain rot for the past couple of decades.

But I’d like to hear your opinion about it! 😽🫶

I’m happy to be yalls therapists tho be warned u might need a second one after all my shit lol. I love me song angst and yall are the ones who pay the price.

But to answer your question it actually gets pretty interesting with crisis on two earths because something impossible happens. Cause, everyone in that universe has a parallel version of them. All of them for some reason except y/n.

It’s puzzling for them along with the other characters within the films because that shouldn’t be statistically possible.In every universe almost no matter the outcome there should be a version of you. Theoretically as you said an alternate version of y/n should be someone who maybe leans more towards the side of bad but retains some element of neutrality to them.

Something along the lines of maybe an informant or even some sort of back alley doctor of sorts. But there’s nothing.

While y/n knows that they can be the only magical girl (due to the fact Rigel can only pick one vassal per dimension/universe there should be a different version of herself. One she was actually quite excited to meet even if they were evil because she wanted to know if this life had been any different from her own.

But nothing

Not even Rigel seems to know why there is no different version of her. But to be fair it brings up another question for Rigel, what about the other girls? They’d never sought out to try and find any sort of alternate version of the other girls due to the guilt. But it now brings up the question that no matter the universe they had never seen a dopple.

But in that regard it catches the interest of the alternate justice league from this flipped world. Especially Owlman.

The entirety of the film is about his existential crisis that nothing matters because everything that could have possibly been done and said by you has been done before in a different universe. But here’s seemingly an outlier to this very idea, something that seemingly goes against multiversal theory in the form of a young girl of all things.

One that is moldable and malleable, something that in his eyes the entire multiverse deemed as important and literally one of a kind.

Someone with more power at her fingers tips than she could ever imagine with literal infinite potential.

Someone that could potentially shift any scale if she so deemed.

Someone they need on their side.

Yeah….his plan becomes less destroying every universe into first trying to manipulate y/n which failed and then into aight we doing this by force then.

Mind controlled y/n which I’ll call evil y/n for now is someone like you said that’s aggressive and most of all bitter. It kinda takes all of y/n stored away anger towards a society that left them to rot as well as the fact that they had to literally scrape by half the time and almost no one noticed nor cared. It kinda cuts off her memory at a certain point, the part where things got better for her, that she found a home and people who do care. As cliche as it is it’s that which is used to snap her out of it along with the general mental fog she has when not just focusing on her anger.

But anyway evil y/n is wholeheartedly destructive, using everything she can to essentially just destroy. Using that enhanced strength to good use, and while she can’t use her magical weapon on things that aren’t Shadowmites who’s to say she can’t find an actual weapon to do the job instead lol.

I feel like as well evil y/n would have a bit of not only a god complex but also simultaneously a lot of self-loathing. She uses being the only magical girl in the multiverse and being the only one to kill Shadowmites as a point of ultimate power, seeing it as things people should worship them for. But at the same time she hates herself, she so lonely and mad at everyone including herself.

Because why did the world abandon her? Why did it hate a little girl who dared to dream about helping people just like the girls in her shows?

Why did her parents leave her before she could even remember them? Was she not good enough? Is she good enough now for them?

Why did that little weasel who keeps telling her to “remember” choose her? Why did it place such a burden on her shoulders? Was it cause she’s expendable?

And lastly why does it tear her apart seeing people look at her in fear? Why does it hurt when those heroes go flying through walls when she hits them? Why do her eyes water when theirs do as well?

Her outfits would definitely be the typical evil magical girl wear black type of thing but I feel like hers would almost look in a way godly and ethereal. But then become more and more disheveled and dark as she mentally cracks more and more.

(Sorry this was a long response lol)

[rocksanddeadflowers]

hello, mechanisms enjoyer. who is your favourite mechanism. what is your favourite album. what is your favourite song. do you have a favourite mechanisms photo.

Oh!!! The mechs ask person!!! Hello!!! Yay I like answering questions that let me ramble thank you

It's literally impossible for me to pick a favorite anything but for the mechs specifically I think I have a special soft spot for Brian and Jonny, as well as the prison mechs. I will honestly obsess over one at random just rotating them BUT I find Brian and Ivy relatable and stupidly loveable. Raphaella's vocal range is very similar to mine and I'm always down with mad scientist types. Marius is just so fun to write and he's just like,,,,, idk he's got such a fun demeanor. Jonny memorizes and recites large pieces of script in a way I can relate to (because autism) but mainly aside from his overall Jonny-ness, it's the New Texas thing. I grew up in Texas and I like projecting a lot of southern culture onto to, mostly the cool stuff that makes me homesick (which is also why I love Lyfrassir bc I can project a lot of my Norse Mythology info and pagan lifestyle onto them, but they're not technically a mech so)

Clearly my favorite album is The Bifrost Incident, mainly because Norse Mythology was one of my biggest special interests for years (it still is btw I'm just not as deep anymore). Also after the disappointment of the Loki series, getting into The Mechanisms was just awesome. I will say tho that even if TBI is objectively my favorite, I listen to HNOC the most lmao.

Very hard to pick a favorite song bc I'm obsessed with like .... almost all of them. So my 'favorite' isn't necessarily which song I think is the best, but it's Rose Red. I have many feelings about that song. OUAT(IS) was my first album (literally at that point my only info about The Mechs was someone's post about "Jonny Sim's - you know the TMA guy - stupid and embarrassing uni band" so here i was looking for a giggle actually) i was laying in bed in the middle of the night listening. IMMEDIATELY enraptured by it (it's not stupid and embarrassing how did that person come to the conclusion is this because I'm a theatre kid) and the gasp I let out at Rose Red!! Because most of the songs I didn't really recognize except Pump Shanty really, but Rose Red was a song close to my heart!! It was an old choir warm up, and one of my favorites bc it was the only one we did that wasn't silly and dumb, but straight up sounded ethereal man!! It was just super nostalgic. So after King Cole that song went on loop for a while. Cut to months later when I finally listened to DTTM, yeah anyway that version made me cry. Lot of feels <3

I have many favorite pics!!!! I posted one of my favorite Brian pics ever somewhere on my Tumblr but here's a couple pics I've been rotating a lot recently:

Also here's the favorite Brian pic

Think about him a lot <3

[here2bbtstrash]

park and ride (explicit)

genre: smut

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: your fuckbuddy asks if the two of you can drive around a bit first, but he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself

word count: 4.8k

contains: explicit sexual content bb! idol verse, fuckbuddies, teasing while driving, semi-public sex (aka fuckin in a car), fingering, squirting, a smidge of size kink, also joon really likes your skirt

A/N: inspired by that ~mysterious extra day~ in america and joon posting Fast Car by Syd on his story (which, btw, TASTE) - this is also on AO3 if you'd rather read it over there!

For your own sanity, you try to stay busy. You go for a long run every morning to clear your mind. You delete Twitter from your phone and get two weeks ahead on your grad school assignments. You go out for drinks with friends and pepper them with questions about their own personal dramas.

But all the while that glimmer of hope in your chest remains, impossible to extinguish entirely. You know by now to keep your expectations low, very low. Just because he’s on this side of the world doesn’t mean he’ll have time to see you, and most of the time, he doesn’t. You figure there’s no point in obsessing over something that’s out of your control.

But this time is one of those rare occasions where the stars align and the universe decides to throw you a good turn, and you can’t help the smile that breaks across your face when he calls.

“I got an extra day. Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Hmm… yeah, I should be able to pencil you in,” you joke.

The celebrity part of it is still pretty bizarre, but you’ve done this enough now that it’s become its own weird little routine. Pulling up to a hotel where the nightly rate costs more than your monthly share of rent. Handing the valet the keys to your shitty Honda Civic. Checking in at the front desk and giving the alias the group is booked under, which changes every trip. Showing your ID so they can confirm you’re on the approved list of visitors. Having a special room key made that allows you access to their restricted hotel floor. Just all part of the process.

And that’s not even mentioning the one time you were personally escorted by a bodyguard to his room; you wondered on the elevator ride up how much time their security staff spends ushering fuckbuddies in and out. You’ve decided that maybe you don’t want to know the answer to that one.

So it’s a surprise when he asks on the phone, “Can you pick me up instead this time? We don’t have to go anywhere special, maybe just drive around a bit? I’m so sick of hotel rooms.”

“Is this all a ploy to stop me from raiding your minibar?”

He laughs softly. “Oh don’t get me wrong. I definitely still plan on taking you back to my room and…” He trails off, well aware that he doesn’t need to explicitly finish the sentence. “Well, you know. Just need some fresh air first, I think.”

You decide you’ve given him enough sass for one phone call and bite back the urge to argue that he’s not actually taking you anywhere, as you’re the only one with a license in this situationship.

“Yeah, sure. I can do that.”

~*~

Never in a million years would you have ever thought you’d have Kim Namjoon riding shotgun in your car, the seat pushed back as far as it can go to accommodate his long legs.

He’d slipped out of the front door of the hotel looking as nondescript as possible in a black hoodie and shorts, face hidden almost entirely by a black facemask and a bucket hat pulled down low over his eyes. You pause, hands still on the wheel, wondering if you should expect some kind of greeting. This is so far outside the realm of your normal interactions that you have no established protocol to follow.

“It’s good to see you, let’s get out of here.” He says softly, and you take that as your cue to shift gears and follow the road out of the hotel entrance.

Namjoon seems tense, you think as you pass through an intersection. He keeps switching between checking his phone, looking out the passenger-side window, then turning over his shoulder to look at the traffic behind you.

“Sorry,” he explains, “Not trying to be rude. Just being careful.” That’s when it finally registers in your mind that he’s making sure you’re not being followed, and the thought sends a shiver of fear up your spine. The fact that this is a regular part of life for him is so strange.

The city is fairly deserted tonight, and when you stop at the next red light you can see him visibly relax a little, unlooping his mask from around his ears and tucking it into his pocket along with his phone. He slips his hat off as well and tosses it in the backseat, pulling down the visor to make sure his hair looks good in the tiny mirror. You try to suppress a laugh; surely this man knows that he already rolls out of bed looking fine as hell, no adjustments necessary.

He flips the visor closed and catches you staring at him, and a thrum of desire runs through you. Has he managed to get hotter since the last time you saw him? You didn’t think that was possible.

“Come here,” he murmurs, leaning over to cup your jaw with one hand and bring you in for a kiss.

This is your favorite part of these reunions—remembering all the little things you’d forgotten since the last time. Like how big and warm his hands are, how hungrily he kisses you. It isn’t until an impatient horn blaring snaps you back to reality that you remember you were stopped at a red light, which is now very much green. Judging by the way the driver behind you is laying on the horn, it’s been green for a while.

“Fuck, oops.” You move to pull away but he keeps his hand on your jaw, holding you in place, your lips inches apart. His eyes are dark with pure want as he stares at your mouth.

“One more.” His lips are so soft; this kiss is sweeter than the first, less urgent. You barely notice as the driver behind you swerves into the other lane to pass your stopped car and speeds off through the intersection.

Namjoon brushes his thumb against your cheek and then removes his hand somewhat reluctantly. You can’t hold back your smile as you ease your foot off the brake, trying to focus on the road. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but when you see a green light while driving, it means you’re supposed to go.”

He leans back in the passenger seat, his hands clasped behind his head, dimples fully on display as he laughs. “There it is. I knew you’d get in a license joke eventually.”

“I held it in for as long as I could.”

“I bet you did.”

You realize he didn’t give you any directions on where to go, so you drive aimlessly through the city that you know so well. The lights at night are beautiful, even you can admit that, and though you typically hate the many intersections, it’s not so bad when you have someone to kiss you breathless each time you hit a red light.

During a particularly long stretch of greens, he taps his knuckles on the center console. You glance over to see his eyes roaming across the inside of your car, like he’s just realized where he is. “So this is your whip, huh?”

The fact that this dork is a professional rapper amazes you sometimes. “Top of the line 2008 Honda Civic.”

He touches a finger to a mystery stain on the vinyl of your dashboard that’s been there for at least a decade. “I could get you a better car than this.” He doesn’t say it in a bragging way, though he certainly could. Instead he just sounds sweet, and sincere. Like he wants you to have nice things.

You roll your eyes. “Save your money. There’s nothing wrong with this car.”

With a thoughtful hum, Namjoon rests his left hand just above your knee, and you reflexively spread your legs a little wider, keeping your eyes firmly on the road despite your quickening pulse. His thumb draws lazy circles on the outside of your thigh. “Well, now we know you’re not fucking me for my money.”

The truth escapes with a laugh before you can stop it. “No, I’m fucking you for your big dick.”

“Oh?” His hand climbs a little higher and arousal pools in your belly. You can already feel yourself getting wet. “Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm.” Eyes on the road, you tell yourself. His hand is rubbing your thigh gently now. It takes all of your willpower not to look over at him.

“I like this skirt,” He says softly, and a blush creeps up your neck. You’ve always had a complex about being fashion-challenged, and having a fuckbuddy with personal stylists and access to the nicest clothes money can buy doesn’t help. You changed outfits about twenty times before you finally settled on this one, a black long-sleeve and a yellow plaid miniskirt.

You lose your train of thought entirely when he nudges his hand a little higher, slipping it under the fabric, and hooks his pinky finger around the lace edge of your panties. Your cunt clenches at the thought of his long fingers in you.

“Are you trying to make me crash this car?” You do your best to keep your voice even, though you’re certain he can tell your thighs are quivering.

His fingers trace along the line of your panties where your hip and thigh meet, lighting every last one of your nerve endings on fire. “No, but maybe we should… park somewhere.” The suggestion surprises you, but you’re not opposed. In fact, you’re hard pressed to think of a place where you wouldn’t be willing to fuck Kim Namjoon.

“Are you sure?” “If you want to.” He responds nonchalantly. His hand slides out from under your skirt, moving a few inches back down your thigh. “I’ll behave now. How’s school?”

You laugh incredulously—your panties are soaked and this tease wants to talk about grad school? “Oh no, you started this. Don’t you change the subject.”

You don’t even have to look over to know he’s smiling at your frustration, and you turn right at the next intersection and then immediately left into the parking lot of a shopping center. It’s several hours after closing, so the place is empty, but you still drive around the building to the large commuter lot behind it to ensure you’re properly hidden.

You pull into a space directly in front of the “Park and Ride” sign, and you smirk as you pull up the parking brake. The irony is not lost on you.

The moment where you each have to fumble to unbuckle your seatbelt is just awkward enough that you’re laughing when he pulls you back in for another kiss across the center console. Euphoric is the only way to describe the feeling of having him here. It’s proof that he’s not some dream you made up but somehow, impossibly real.

He leans the passenger seat as far back as it will go, shifting his body to one side as best as he can to offer you the seat. “Will you please come over here?”

It’s certainly not graceful as the two of you fumble to get comfortable in the cramped space of your front seat, but when is it ever with him? You’ve seen him shatter wine glasses, knock over bedside lamps and alarm clocks, and you still haven’t let him live down the time he once fully broke the wooden frame of a hotel bed. You like that he’s multifaceted; he can make you laugh and fuck you senseless.

You take his place lying back in the passenger seat and he crawls over you, kneeling on the edge of the seat and resuming the urgent kisses, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You only break apart to shed clothing, first your shirt, then his, and then your bra. (He looks extra smug for being able to undo it one-handed on the first try.)

He tosses it into the backseat with the rest of your clothes then pauses to take you in, eyes roaming over your body. He licks his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

Your nipples stiffen at his words and the cool night air; being half-exposed like this makes the reality of the situation set in. You’re technically fucking in public, and it’s turning you on a lot more than you anticipated.

You run your hands over his shoulders and across his chest and groan as he moves his lips down the slope of your neck. He’s just so big, especially in your small car—broad shoulders, long legs, and flexing muscles that make your core throb in anticipation. You’re dying for him to touch you, to fuck you, but he’s taking his sweet time.

As if sensing your impatience, he grabs both of your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of you while he kisses, bites, and licks along your neck and collarbones. You can’t contain the little noises he pulls out of you when he finds a particularly sensitive spot.

You try straining against his grip just to see what happens, but he’s so much stronger than you that he doesn’t budge. When you whine a little, you feel him smile against your skin.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” He lets one of your hands free and brings his own to cup your left breast, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your nipple in just the right way that makes you arch up into his touch. Fuck, he’s good at that.

“You have me.” Namjoon says, like it’s obvious. “Be more specific.” He dips his head down to tease a circle around your nipple with his tongue, then just barely grazes the sensitive tip with his teeth and you moan.

Your head is spinning, and you can’t keep your voice from shaking as he gives the same attention to your right breast, his thumb continuing to work the left one.

“I need to f-feel you inside me,” you groan. “Please.” Your pussy aches from lack of attention.

“Whatever you like, baby.” He replies, shifting his position slightly to get a better angle. Your head falls back against the seat as his hand makes contact with your thigh, rubbing it just like he did when he was teasing you while you drove. Your breath catches when he slides both of his hands under your skirt, thumbs hooking your panties, and pulls them down in one swift motion. “Skirt stays on.” He says with a flash of his dimpled smile. “I like it.”

You maneuver to get your underwear all the way off in the limited amount of space and nearly knee him in the groin. The look of concern on his face at the close call makes you laugh out loud, which quickly turns into a moan when he presses two fingers into your dripping cunt. You’re breathless and still smiling, completely dazed from it all, as he pumps them in and out of you at a torturously slow pace.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His thumb slides between your folds, collecting the wetness there. He gently circles over your clit and you gasp. You’re not gonna make it, you think. You’ll die right here in the passenger seat if he keeps touching you like this.

Instinctively you move to cover your flushed face with your forearm, embarrassed by how overwhelmed with pleasure you are, but he catches your wrist and pins it down again with his left hand, the other still working your pussy.

“Don’t hide,” he murmurs. “I want to watch you fall apart.” And then he picks up the pace.

You’re helpless to his touch, moaning and panting for air as you feel your orgasm already fast approaching and a warmth building in your core. He curls his fingers inside you, pressing hard against your front wall while his thumb rubs your clit in perfect time. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s doing with you, exactly how to work out the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had, and you know you’re headed for one now when your cunt starts to flutter around his hand.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice drips like honey. “Come for me.”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, your back arching up off the seat. The pressure building in your core reaches its peak and you feel it burst as a wave of arousal rushes out of your cunt and splashes against his hand and your spread thighs. He groans at the sight. His fingers ride you through the aftershocks until you squirm from oversensitivity and he finally relents, releasing his grip on your wrist at the same time.

“Holy shit,” is all you can manage once you’ve come down from your climax, staring dumbly at the ceiling of your car in disbelief, trying to remember how to breathe. Your heart is racing. “That was… oh my god.”

“Still got it.” He says, clearly self-satisfied, and you laugh as he presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone. Namjoon always gets so proud of himself when he makes you squirt. “I think that might be a new record.”

You roll your eyes but you’re still grinning, enjoying the waves of your post-orgasm high. It’s been a long time since you came that hard. “Yeah, yeah, you’re very talented. Shut up and switch with me.”

Shifting positions is made harder by the fact that your legs threaten to give out when you put weight on them, but his hands slide up to your waist to steady you so you don’t fall over. Eventually he resumes his place in the passenger seat, and you kneel down in the small space in front of him, his legs on either side of you.

He lifts his hips up so you can tug his shorts down, and you’re torn between teasing him back as revenge and the overwhelming desire to take him in your mouth immediately. You can already feel your core starting to throb. There’s just something about Namjoon that makes you insatiable. You don’t think you could ever get enough of him.

You trail kisses up the inside of his thigh, biting every so often at the sensitive skin there, delighting in the way his breath hitches each time. Two can play at this game, you think as you press a hand to his stomach, just barely teasing a finger under the band of his boxer-briefs to scratch your nail lightly across his skin. His hips jerk in response and you smile.

You move your hand lower to palm him over his underwear, gripping firmly but keeping your pace slow to torment him. You weren’t just flattering him earlier—his dick is life-ruiningly big, the perfect combination of long and thick, and he’s fully erect under your touch. You want it so bad, your naked cunt is getting slick all over again at the thought.

But first, some retribution.

You still the movement of your hand and place a gentle kiss to the head of his dick through the fabric of his underwear, then gaze up at him innocently. His lips are parted slightly and he’s breathing hard, watching your every move. The way he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe makes your stomach flip.

It feels good to be in control. Keeping eye contact, you lick a slow stripe up the fabric of his boxers and feel the strong muscles in his thighs flex under your hand as he groans a little.

You drop your gaze to take the head of his still-clothed dick in your mouth, resuming the slow pump of one hand over his shaft.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon hisses.

You tug his boxers down his legs, too desperate to see him. His cock looks so good you can feel yourself salivating. The tip of it is already shiny, slick with a mixture of pre-cum and moisture from your teasing. You trace up the large vein on his shaft with the pad of your thumb. When you pause to rub small circles at the extra-sensitive spot right under his head, he lets out a strangled whine.

Encouraged by the sound, you wrap your hand firmly around him and he gasps. You can feel his cock pulse in your hand. You pump him ever-so slowly, working a new bead of precum out of the tip, then lightly run your tongue over him to lick it up.

His hips jerk again and he grunts your name, his voice hoarse.

You lean back on your heels, your hand still wrapped around him, and feign surprise. “Hmm? I’m sorry, did you say something?”

He’s clearly trying to keep the smirk of disbelief off his face, but a telltale dimple gives it away. “Oh my god, you’re so evil.”

You smile at the compliment and finally take him into your mouth; his moan of relief makes your pussy throb. You swallow down as much of his dick as you can and wrap your hand around the rest, bobbing and pumping in a steady motion. His hips start rutting against your mouth in time with your movements.

The way Namjoon is groaning unabashedly now makes your face hot. God, you need to fuck him. You look up and take him as far down your throat as you can, gagging slightly, and he must be able to read the desire in your eyes. He runs a hand through your hair, just barely tugging, and you relent, his dick sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.

“Get up here,” he growls. You climb into his lap and straddle him, and he kisses you so fervently that your head spins.

His hands slide under your skirt to grab your ass and he pulls you closer. As he does, you realize how soaked you really are, your slit slipping easily along his length. You can barely keep from whimpering at how good it feels, and he’s not even inside you yet. His cock twitches and you shudder, unable to stop yourself from rolling your hips and grinding against him. You’re so turned on, you could come from this alone.

“Keep doing that, baby,” he encourages, and your eyes flutter open as he shifts slightly. He reaches for his discarded shorts, his other hand caressing your thigh as if to apologize for the interruption. After a bit of fumbling he produces a condom, reaching both arms around you to rip it open with shaking hands.

Leaning back, you brace yourself on his legs and lift your hips up so he can slide the latex down his length. Your thighs are trembling hard as his hands move back to your ass and help guide you into place.

It’s been so long, and you want this so badly. You’ve spent more than a few nights in bed with your hand between your legs, playing back the memory of how good he feels, how thoroughly he’s fucked you before. Even after all the anticipation, when you finally, finally sink down on his cock, it’s still somehow better than you remembered.

You have to take a moment to press your face into the crook of his neck as you get accustomed to the stretch of him inside you. His thumbs trace gentle circles along the globes of your ass and it’s enough to get your cunt to fully relax. You spread your knees a little wider and sink down another inch, gasping as he bottoms out in you. You feel impossibly, overwhelmingly full.

Namjoon smiles as you lift your head and bring one hand up, running your thumb along his jawline. He looks so good like this; his face is flushed and his eyes are dark with lust.

“I forgot how well you take my cock,” he says, giving your ass an approving squeeze. “Such a perfect fit.” The praise makes your pussy clench and he groans at the feeling.

His hands slide over your thighs and up to your hips. “Ride me, baby. Please.”

You can feel every inch of him as you brace your hands on his legs and start to rock your hips, and the sensation is so good you can barely form a coherent thought. Heat rises in your belly as you lift up and lean back slightly, and when you ease your hips down, the head of his dick grinds against your sweet spot.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, and you hear him grunt beneath you as you rock your hips in just the same way over and over and over. It feels so fucking good, you never want to stop. The filthy sounds of your slick cunt only bring you that much closer to your end.

Namjoon’s fingers dig into your skin and he thrusts up into you, matching your rhythm. The pleasure is so forceful now that your walls squeeze tightly around his length. “Just like that, baby, fuck.” He sounds absolutely wrecked. “You feel amazing.”

His thumb moves to press your clit under your skirt and you’re practically vibrating with overstimulation, already incredibly close to coming. Your legs shake so badly that you start to lose your rhythm and he takes control, fucking up into you with fast and powerful strokes. The way he pounds into your cunt feels so overwhelmingly good that your jaw drops open and you moan loudly. He only has to circle your clit one, two, three more times before it’s all over.

You can’t do anything but whimper and throw your head back as your orgasm overtakes you. Your arms threaten to give out and you collapse into his chest. The release of pressure is so intense that you see stars as wetness floods your pussy.

You pulse around him again and again and then Namjoon is coming too, groaning your name, his cock twitching inside you.

For several minutes, all you can do is lay against him, your body shuddering as you come down from the high. His hands press gently against the small of your back as reality slowly returns around you.

Your panting dissolves into soft gasps of laughter; you can’t believe that just happened. Fucking Kim Namjoon in your shitty Honda Civic, of all places. What a time to be alive. You nuzzle your nose against his neck and he turns his head to press a kiss to your hairline. “Welcome back,” he murmurs against your hair.

“Wow,” is all you can manage. You feel completely spent, blissed out.

“That was… crazy.” Namjoon sounds just as much at a loss for words as you are. “You’re so incredible.” He rubs small circles into your back and you sigh. You wish he could fuck you like this every day, but you don’t say that part out loud. You know it’s just the post-orgasm chemicals talking.

You turn your head to the side and laugh again as you realize the car windows are completely covered over with fog. He follows your gaze. “At least we don’t have to worry about whether anyone saw us.”

Feeling starts to come back to your limbs. Soreness is already blooming along the muscles in your thighs and your bent knees, but it was so worth it, you can't even be mad. “I think my legs are broken,” you say with a wince.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds so sincere at first that it makes you smile. “Guess you can blame it on this big dick, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but he’s thoroughly fucked the sass out of you, for now at least. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to shut up, so you pull his face to yours and kiss him instead. He sucks gently on your bottom lip and you think your heart might burst.

Once you finally break apart, you rest your head on his chest again. “Hotel time?”

Namjoon brings a hand up to stroke your hair. “Baby, I’ve got some bad news.”

You freeze, and your stomach drops, preparing for the worst. He’s always been a gentleman and let you stay the night, but he’s busier than ever these days, you know that. Maybe things are different now. You will yourself not to react to whatever he says next, post-orgasm chemicals be damned.

“The minibar in this hotel… it’s awful.”

“Oh, fuck you!” You laugh, pushing against his chest and sitting up to see his dimpled grin. He stretches, hands behind his head, his biceps flexing. He’s so handsome. You absolutely hate him and like him way too much all at once. “You have,” he reminds you. “And you will again soon. But I need some real food first.”

You are starving, you realize. You run a finger across his chest and put on your most seductive voice. “Hmm… how about I take you to In-N-Out? We’re gonna need some protein before round two.”

“Alright,” he shrugs. “But I’m paying.”

“Of course you are, sugar daddy.”

He laughs against your mouth as he kisses you.

A/N: thanks for reading!!! i ended up fulfilling a request for a short companion piece to this! if you want more quippy fuckbuddies goodness, check out five minutes! 💜

[strangelysamantha]

hey, i have a jj maybank request! fem!reader, possible angst!

so basically, y/n is a pogue and gets along with the other pogues (john b, pope, sarah, kiara & cleo) except for jj. y/n is always bright, a total sweetheart and bubbly and jj…hates it.

john b recently opens up a surf board shop on that stranded island that they’re on?? and he leaves y/n and jj alone to polish some boards hoping that they’d get along. jj complains about every little thing y/n does and starts calling her names. she gets really upset and storms out the shop to clear her head. she goes by the water for a swim but a dangerous tide picks her up and jj notices and saves her?? hopefully this makes sense!

the deep end ☆

jj maybank x fem!reader.

warnings: mentions of drowning, jj being an asshole, swearing.

words: 1,674.

summary: jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.

request? yes!

a/n: y’all have such good ideas what the?! thank you for the request! if you enjoyed please like and comment. this is angst with fluff at the end. <3 BTW i am from missouri and have never surfed so i hope i got the polishing of the surfboards correct. :)

my masterlist

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john b always had a plan, well usually he did. if two of his friends were fighting, he would always find a way to get them to get along. he knew that stranding kiara and sarah on a boat together in the middle of nowhere would force them to fix their friendship. so, with that knowledge, he knew that he could do the same thing with jj and you.

you were always nice to jj, he just seemed to get annoyed with you all the time. you didn’t know what you had done, if you had even done something. he just always felt the need to critique you. it became harder and harder everyday to ignore him.

since washing up on the abandoned island, john b was ecstatic for his brand new start. unsurprisingly to anyone, his first idea for creating a new civilization would be a surf shack. he started building it right away. you would occasionally help, but he was determined to do it on his own so he would always send you away.

“okay! john b what would you like my help with? i can do anything you need. just let me know.” you smile brightly at john b, while he stared at you. “listen, i love you. but, i don’t need your help at the moment. you should talk to everyone else.” you frown at his words, “fine. but you better get me the minute you need assistance.” he nodded. “will do.” and with that, you left joining the others.

jj was talking to cleo before silencing upon your arrival. “hey everyone!” you smile at the group in front of you. “hey! how’s john b?” kiara asked. “i think he is good, he’s actually pretty much done.” you play with the bracelet on your wrist. kiara nods, “that’s great.” pope smiles, “statistically speaking, we can’t ensure that his shack will be entirely safe as he built it all on his own.” you stare at pope. “true… we’ll let’s hope it doesn’t collapse on him.” pope smiled at you, glad you listened to his random fact.

jj groaned. “awe, how sweet pope!! you found a girl who wasn’t disgusted by your weird and useless knowledge.” you gasp in shock, “jj! shut up you are so rude.” jj laughs, “it’s just a joke, why do you always have to be so offended?” you glare at jj. “jj it’s not funny, you’re just a dick.” pope sighs. “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you frown in popes direction. you quietly pull away from the group. you walk to an area of sand, plopping yourself down. that’s when john b approached you.

“hey, remember when i told you i would come get you when i needed help?” john b smiled at you. “yes! do you need my help?” you tilt your head to the side, waiting. he nods. “i need you to wax up some of the boards i made.” you nod. “okay! sure.” he walked you to his shack, helping you set up. you began waxing the board, paying attention to the direction and the amount of wax you were applying. john b waits a minute watching you, before he decides to leave.

after a minute, you see jj approaching the shack with john b who held a smug smile on his lips. you shake your head, confused. “friends.” he looked between you and jj. jj held an unamused look on his face. “as my close friends, you will wax these boards for me. you can’t stop until you guys fix whatever feud is going on between the two of you.” john b stands his ground. jj scoffs, “we don’t have a feud.” you nod your head in agreement. “jj is right, his hatred is definitely one sided... it is not a feud.” you laugh softly seeing jj send a glare your way. “yeah okay. whatever guys. just fix it, and if you even try and leave, i’ll send cleo after both of you.” your eyebrows lift in shock. you mutter a quick okay, returning your attention to the board.

jj stares at you, watching you apply the wax. he couldn’t help but get upset. everything you did just made him annoyed. he grabbed the wax, working on the board right by yours. silence falls over the two of you. it’s not awkward or weird, it actually feels quite normal. until jj interrupted it so he could judge you.

“youre doing it wrong. i mean come on.” you stare at jj, “jj please just focus on your own board.” you shake your head, continuing to polish the surfboard. he glares at you. “whatever. just keep doing what you are doing, and then john b or i will fix it after you.” his attention turned back to his board. you rolled your eyes. “i will, thank you.” he breathes in, inhaling the waxy scent. “you are so annoying you know that?” you ignore jj’s words, focusing on the board. he continues, “i mean everything you do. everything you say, it pisses me off.” you nod slightly. “you done?”

“no, actually i’m not.” you bite your lip, fixating on the wax that is spreading along the smooth surface. jj stops waxing the surfboard. you look up to see he is already staring at you. “you know, you act like you are better than us, i mean why do you hang out with us anyway?” jj waits but continues when he realizes you won’t reply. “you are fake, you are so upbeat and bubbly that it’s annoying. you are a double sided two faced bitch who says anything to get in good graces.” you inhale, looking up at him.

“listen jj. we are stranded on this fucking island. TOGETHER. so either drop it and move on, or just shut the fuck up and stay away from me.” you place your hands on your hips, breathing slightly staggered from anger. “everyone speaks so highly of you saying how great you are; but the only jj i’ve met is a total douche. if you hate me so much then just stay the fuck away from me. if you continue you’ll just be wasting your breath and energy anyway.” jj holds back a laugh at your sudden outburst.

“you really think if i had the choice, i would want to be here? especially with you?” jj asked, you already knowing the answer. you stay silent. “exactly. no one can deal with you for that long anyway.” you roll your eyes.

“whatever jj. you win.” you toss the wax to the side, frowning. you don’t turn back to him, you just ignore him. you start to walk towards the beaches seashore. it was getting slightly hot, so you decided to take a dip into the water.

you were salvaging the few moments of freedom you had, before you got john b’s and cleo’s wrath from leaving the scene before mending the friendship with jj. it was practically impossible. what did jj have against you? you tip toed into the water, getting deeper and deeper. you floated at the top of the water; the coolness feeling great on top of your hot skin.

jj truly had the biggest nerve, your mind was overwhelmingly clogged. you felt seaweed scratch against the bottom of your foot, this caused you to jump, your adrenaline levels rising since you thought it was a fish. you try to remain afloat, but the high tide caused the waves to crash right over you repeatedly, being faster and higher than ever. you went above water trying to shout for help, but your mouth was filled, causing no sound to come out. you thrash against the water, kicking to stay afloat. your throat was burning, your legs tired from kicking, and your lungs filled with liquid.

a pair of hands wrap around your stomach, dragging you out the water. you were placed on the warm sand. “shit.” jj stared at you. your head felt light. jj’s hand began pumping your chest, curses falling from his mouth. “come on, just breathe. please.” you cough, the salt water exiting your lungs, and dropping onto your neck. you gasp for air, opening your eyes to be met with jj’s face. you breathe heavily for a minute.

“jj… thank you.” you sit up, pulling him into a tight hug. your hands wrap around his neck, one of them grabbing his hair. his arms held tightly around your waist. his chest was heaving heavily, shaking slightly. “i hate to be so cliché j, but you genuinely saved my life.” he frowns at you. “i almost lost you.”

jj’s confession confused you. “what?” you say softly, your hand combed through his hair. “look. the reason i’m so mean to you, is because i knew that if i was nice to you, my already intense feelings for you would only amplify.” you frown at him. “you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” jj nodded. you went to talk, but your friends interrupted the moment.

john b rushed to your side, kiara and pope swiftly behind him. “what happened!! we were watching from over there.” john b pointed in a direction farther away. “one minute you were swimming… the next you we’re gone!?” you wipe your neck, trying to dry it off. “jj saved my life. i almost drowned.” you frown, the group in front of you nodded. “im so glad you are okay.” kiara bent down pulling you into a hug. “i’m glad you are safe now too.” pope joined in on the hug; as well as everyone else.

sarah, kiara, and cleo bend down, reaching for your hands. they help you up, dragging you to your feet. they walk you away from the crowd, bombarding you with questions. “so when you were drowning what did it feel like??” you turn around watching jj, you smile slightly before turning to them. “oh get ready for the amount of details i’m going to give you guys.”

possibly a part two…??? not sure yet :) <3 also!! i’m proofreading this tomorrow since i’m not entirely sure if it has errors or not! ily!!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 303: And What, Pray Tell, Is a “One For All”

Previously on BnHA: The Todorokis (really just Enji) looked at their children and went “how can we screw up all four of them in uniquely different ways” and proceeded to do just that. Touya was all “just because practicing how to set myself on fire better hasn’t worked to win my dad’s affections YET doesn’t mean it will NEVER work”, because child logic. Turns out setting oneself on fire real hard isn’t so effective at winning affections, but is actually incredibly effective when it comes to burning oneself to death, so there’s that. Back in the present day, the Todorokis basked in their various misplaced (again, except for Enji) feelings of guilt, and were all “anyway but get over yourself already Enji, you still have to do something to stop this kid”, and Shouto was all “I’ll help too”, and Enji was all “(╥_╥)”, and Hawks and Jeanist were all “[surreptitiously listening in from outside the door]”, and that’s basically where we left off.

Today on BnHA: Hawks and Jeanist are all “mind if we join you on this family journey?” and proceed to stroll in uninvited with their puns and their perceptive insights. Hawks is all “so to sum everything up, we’re fucked, but at least you have us here to help you out! by the way, no clue why I’m the first person to ask this in three hundred chapters, but wtf is One For All.” We then cut to Deku, who’s still all “[(－－)]z”, and All Might, who is all “I’m just going to ignore the extremely loud racket going on right outside this room.” Which, btw, is happening on account of Bakugou, who is all “(╬◣Д◢)” as Satou, Tsuyu, and Mineta cart him away. Anyway so that’s a lot of antics, and also it looks like Hawks has gotten tired of the Todorokis refusing to put the pieces together on their own about OFA and so he is fast-tracking that shit. And meanwhile Deku is chatting it up with the Vestiges exactly like we all thought. And now we have to wait another whole week for updates on all of this. This really is not fair.

omfg lol

“our bad, we were kind of accidentally listening in on purpose.” like I said last week guys, no fuss. it’s a tradition

OMG

I am absolutely fucking floored. Hawks literally said that so casually that it’s impossible for me to rewrite it so as to be even more casual. that’s literally what I would write in the “today on bnha” section. in fact I probably will write that

(ETA: just for laughs I tried it and it really worked.)

a couple more things to point out about this panel: 

“TOP 3” omg yes. more like “top only” at this point, honestly. interested to see how that goes

Hawks’s phone is freaking the fuck out about something, calm down there

I know this is a standard Jeanist hair-fixing gesture that he does all the time, but I can’t help but form hypotheses about this being a stress reaction because Hawks’s hair is making him internally freak out. Hawks, if this man tries to get you alone with him and some hairspray and a comb, please for the love of god do not listen to him. get out of there and call the authorities

omg Shouto’s face

okay confession, I wasn’t really sold on the whole “Shouto has a schoolboy crush on Hawks” thing until exactly now, when I became 100% sold on it. that is adorable

and heck with it, gotta show Enji and Rei’s reactions here as well because lol

“omg my son who’s not my son, and he just overheard everything about me being a terrible shitty father and person overall, oh and plus my actual-son set him on fire and called him out on a national broadcast. I’m just gonna stare at him baffledly.” versus Rei, who is all “hmm, who are these people”

so Hawks is all “I got released from the hospital after one day for some reason so I made Jeanist drive me around places while we talked about life” but uh, heyyyyy, what’s Rei doing

okay, uh

SO FUCKING FORMAL OMFG. “SORRY MY KID TRIED TO BURN YOU TO DEATH, APPARENTLY HE DOES THAT” REI NO IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT

HAWKS IS ALL “I’M JUST GONNA LAUGH SINCE THAT’S MY DEFAULT RESPONSE TO BEING PROFOUNDLY UNCOMFORTABLE”

let me tell you a secret Hawks, it’s my default response too. ahahahahahahaha oh thank god Jeanist is helping her up -- AND MAKING A JEANS PUN, OF COURSE. IT’S BEEN ALMOST THIRTY SECONDS. MY MAN WAS DYING

“WTF IS ILLEGAL DENIM” he’s talking ‘bout them counterfeit jeans, Rei. Antoine Bugleboy knows

THANK YOU JEANIST!! OUT HERE ASKING THE RELEVANT QUESTIONS

damn straight. we’re not gonna sit around waiting another 300 chapters for this information on this man’s watch

now Hawks is telling Endeavor he used to watch videos of him all the time, and calling him his “childhood obsession” I can’t

OH MY SWEET STARS AND MOONS

1000% CANON. “SO CLOSE...” ARE YOU SERIOUS. YOU REALLY PUT THAT THOUGHT BUBBLE THERE AND EVERYTHING. “GOOD MORNING EVERYONE, SO JUST IN CASE YOU WEREN’T ALREADY AWARE, TODOROKI SHOUTO IS NOT ACTUALLY STRAIGHT.” HORIKOSHI KOUHEI I AM LITERALLY DUMBFOUNDED. THIS IS AMAZING

and meanwhile that look on Hawks’s face while he casually-but-not-really-casually-at-all asks this question. that phone app better be using his actual voice. I’m not sure I could take this scene in the anime at this point if it was like Alexa talking or something

that look in his eyes is basically saying that so far, based on the information he has absorbed up until this point, Hawks is prepared to view his former childhood obsession as a flawed but changed man. however I get the distinct feeling that depending on Endeavor’s answer now, he would be willing to drastically shift some of his opinions on him

(ETA: this is maybe my favorite panel in the entire chapter. the fact that his question isn’t addressed to anyone in particular, but his eyes are zeroing on on Endeavor. and the way his leaning-on-Shouto pose manages to be simultaneously nonchalant and yet ever-so-slightly protective. there’s so much going on in this one question and gesture and I’m mildly obsessed with it.)

however, Rei is all “that was me” and ONCE AGAIN WITH THE FACES IN THIS CHAPTER holy shit

Hawks definitely did not see that one coming sob. it’s so fun watching him frantically recalculate his ideas about this family every two seconds

DAMN IT HORIKOSHI I UNDERSTOOD THE PARALLELS ALREADY, YOU REALLY DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THIS

yes, Hawks, you get it. it’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough. though unlike your shitty parents, Rei and Enji are at least trying

OKAY I SERIOUSLY CANNOT WITH ALL OF THIS

fljkdlaskfjlwkjl okay we’re doing the bullet-points breakdown here

first of all, the fact that poor little Shouto’s heart is still thumping away at this proximity and all he can think is “CLOSE” all intelligently as he stares at him with that face omg

and meanwhile Horikoshi has these STRATEGIC BANDAGES WRAPPED AROUND HIS CHEEKS TO HIDE ALL OF HIS SHOUJO BLUSHING omfg. SENPAI NOTICED YOU SWEETIE!!!

HAWKS YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY ZERO OBLIGATION TO WASTE ANOTHER SECOND OF YOUR LIFE WORRYING ABOUT THESE TWO ASSHOLES WHO NEVER SPARED YOU THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF REGARD OR CONCERN IN THEIR ENTIRE LIVES. THE NICEST THING YOUR MOM EVER DID FOR YOU WAS BUY YOU A $2 ENDEAVOR PLUSH FROM THE DISCOUNT BIN TO KEEP YOU QUIET, AND YOU WERE SO AWED BY THAT ONE ACT OF SORTA KINDA APPROXIMATE KINDNESS THAT YOU SHAPED YOUR ENTIRE WORLDVIEW AROUND IT. PLEASE LET ME PICK YOU UP IN A BIG HUG FOR JUST A SEC, YOU DESERVE THE WORLD AND YOU WERE ONE THOUSAND PERCENT JUSTIFIED IN LEAVING THEM IN THE DUST THE SECOND THAT YOU COULD

but all that said, he immediately recognizes that Shouto would also have had cause to do the same in his situation, and yet hasn’t. and so he has that much more admiration for him all of a sudden, which is just super sweet, and fully appropriate. Shouto does deserve props. I’m choosing to take this as an “it takes a lot of strength to be able to forgive, and people who choose to do that even though they’re not obligated to are really amazing" type of thing, as opposed to “people who don’t forgive other people who severely wronged them are bad.” and if I’m wrong and Hawks’s line here is meant to be seen as actual failing on his part, well then fuck that, but we’ll move on

SO NOW, DOWN TO BUSINESS!

I am so, so curious as to what kind of strategy Hawks has for this (if he even has any), so I’ll just be quiet now and read

so Hawks is summing up basically what we already knew -- that Tomura and his inner circle (curious that there’s no mention of AFO, because if Hawks doesn’t know about him, that implies almost no one does) are still on the lam with a few PLF stragglers and some High Ends; that a bunch of prisons have been “liberated” (I assume this means all of the inmates escaped, so if that’s the case then where’s Kurogiri??); that the HPSC is fucked; and that heroes are resigning all over the place, and so civilians are taking matters into their own hands

OH DAMN!?

does this mean we’ll actually see some international heroes?? I will LOSE MY DAMN SHIT omg

(ETA: apparently people who paid more attention to the first BnHA movie than I did recognized the silhouettes as belonging to some background characters from Two Heroes. so maybe they were just cameos and they’re not actually new characters who are soon to join us lol. oh well.)

anyway so Hawks agrees with the other Todorokis that Endeavor has no choice but to fight

awww

DON’T WORRY ENJI THEY’VE GOT YOUR BACK. WITH YOUR FLAMES, AND JEANIST’S PUNS, AND HAWKS’S BOYISHLY GOOD LOOKS, THE THREE OF YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MINDS TO

so Enji is very pertinently asking why they’re standing by him in spite of the... [gestures vaguely to everything]

oh my lordy lord

Shouto you had better do something to combat this soon, or this man will sneak past you on my favorite character ranking after all. his face. his cheeky lil finger gun. the fact that he sums it up so fucking simply. “if someone is trying to do the right thing, I want to support them.” exactly. exactly

(ETA: and one last thing I love but forgot to mention, which is the fact that Hawks calls it a team-up despite the fact that he is clearly in charge.)

meanwhile Jeanist is all “as for me, at this point I just straight up don’t give a fuck”

I can’t handle how fucking cool this chapter is you guys

so Hawks is all “you good?” at Enji. and Enji...

if anyone needs me, I will be building myself a discourse-proof fort made entirely out of problematic characters. I don’t even care. I will go on living my life very happily in here

lol at Natsu being all “BUT DON’T THINK THIS MAKES US FRIENDS”

I’m living for this weird and no-doubt entirely unintended implication that Natsu and them all are gonna join in the fight with the rest of them. I mean, they do presumably all have very powerful ice quirks. and Natsu has medical training on top of that, and Fuyu is skilled at getting eight-year-olds to behave which could be a useful talent for dealing with Tomura hahaha I kid, but I’M JUST SAYING. who needs hero licenses anyway

OH SHIT FINALLY SOME DISCUSSION OF AN ACTUAL STRATEGY. even if it’s just a PR strategy

WHAKLHL

and now for some reason we’re flashing back to Natsu and Fuyu’s attempts to navigate through the media crowd outside the hospital

well I guess this is why I’m not the mangaka. if I were writing this I would have done something trite and predictable like using that “One for All” line as an excuse to cut to Deku!! as opposed to this entirely unrelated scene!!

seriously though why do we need to see this lol

no one in this crowd has ever heard of Alexander Dumas huh. or even the popular 2007 Disney Channel original movie, High School Musical 2

so now there’s an entire page of Hawks saying they need to know what One for All is, and Endeavor having one of those patented Todoroki WHOOSH realizations lmao look at this

just wait until this man figures out that one of the scrappy new interns he took on three months ago was actually the main character all along

SKDFIOHWIERLKSJGLWLK!!

NOW IS PROBABLY A GOOD TIME TO ASK MYSELF WHY I CHOSE THIS CHARACTER WHO KEEPS DISAPPEARING FOR SIX OR TWELVE OR FORTY CHAPTERS AT A TIME TO BE MY FUCKING FAVORITE. WELCOME BACK SON PLEASE DON’T SCREAM YOURSELF TO DEATH YOU STILL HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(ETA: can we just take a moment to appreciate how Bakugou even got so close to Deku’s room in the first place though. in this giant hospital with no idea of where to even go. does he have Deku Radar or something.)

YOU SIX ARE OFFICIALLY ON MY HIT LIST!! SPARE ME YOUR GOOD INTENTIONS!! MY BAKUDEKU REUNION KEEPS GETTING POSTPONED WEEK AFTER WEEK!! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HEROES WHERE IS YOUR CONCEPT OF MERCY

(ETA: btw just to be clear, I’m not actually angry lol; it makes total sense that they don’t want this rampaging feral toddler who was still in his own coma all of fifteen minutes ago to come and start screaming at the other coma child until he tears all his stitches out. if there’s anything we Bakugou fans should be familiar with by now, it’s being patient.)

also, Tsuyu wrapping her tongue around Bakugou’s still-healing torso wound absolutely can’t be hygienic at all. also wait is that Inko??

(ETA: pretty sure it is her. she got all of one line smdh.)

Iida is all “thank god Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight pulled through, I thought for sure he was a goner back there”

for the record this is actually really sweet to see how relieved he is. he’s one of the few people who saw the original injury close up, back when he was still at the battlefield and unconscious, so I imagine it really did freak him out quite a bit

JIROUUUUUU

“sometimes I just like to stand here and tug on my imaginary suspenders, what of it”

how come you guys get to loiter around Deku’s room but Kacchan doesn’t. god fucking dammit. AND WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN

I BET KACCHAN COULD WAKE HIM UP FROM HIS COMA WITH THE POWER OF RIVAL INTENSITY!! BUT NOOOOOOOO, [is dragged away back to my fort]

OH MY GOD!?!

"this seems to be an entirely normal and above-board situation that we have just stumbled onto”

I see Jeanist comes from the Iida Tenya school of respectfully using people’s full names

Jeanist becoming one of the main characters is the best thing to ever happen to this series

EXCUSE YOU, IIDA

BUT I’M SURE HE’D MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR KACCHAN THOUGH!! [elbowing my way back out of the fort] HAWKS, PLEASE --

DON’T GO ALL OMINIOUSLY PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER ALL ON YOUR OWN GODDAMMIT

“there’s absolutely no way this angry wriggling shoulder burrito kid here could answer literally all of my questions, so I’ll just ignore him”

OH MY GOD WE’RE FINALLY CUTTING BACK TO HIM BUT THE CHAPTER IS ENDING

[jumps up, throws a folding chair at Iida and the rest of the gang, and then runs]

oh my god. actually this chapter was awesome. but I’m so fucking mad at this cliffhanger though lol

at least we got a couple of answers! and some hints and teases! poor Deku looks so worn out even though he’s asleep dlwkjl my little green baby. and is it just me or is his quirk activated?? All Might’s all “I can feel it” as if it isn’t obvious just looking at him, why are you trying to be all mysterious dude

anyway! so at least we finally have confirmation and a date for those vestige antics at long last. looking forward to meeting Mister The Fourth next week so we can finally ask him “hey dude, what the fuck”

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 10 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: back to work :( frankie and the boys are sweeties tho

W/C: 1.3k

Warnings: none I think but its late and i'm probably wrong so pls let me know if i need to add some

AN: this is just a quick lil filler chapter before a biiiiig one on either friday or monday, depending on when I finish it, but I wanted to get this one out because part 11 might be late because im very in my Feels about it (and i think you will be too)

Spotify

Part 1 Part 11

Frankie noticed every time your head snapped up, shadowy eyes darting towards the diner door. He noticed how your shoulders would lose some of their tension in relief whenever it was just a group of kids, or an elderly couple, or one of the people he’d come to realise were regulars to the diner.

You wore long sleeves tonight, telling him before leaving that it was to cover the ‘ugly ass’ bruise on your wrist. The less questions the better, you said with a smile that hadn’t reached your eyes.

Frankie carefully organised a stack of choc-chip pancakes on a gleaming white plate and set them on the window. You shot him a confused look – there weren’t any orders.

“You look hungry,” he told. Your face softened as you took the plate and grabbed a set of cutlery. It was nearing 1, and you were always hungry at 1.

“Do you know of any decent not-a-total-rip-off moving companies?” you asked after swallowing a mouthful. Frankie nodded.

“Yeah, me and the boys.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “No. You’ve already done so much I can’t ask you or any of your friends to give up one of their days just to get my shit back.”

“Well, yes you actually can,” Frankie countered, “and if the boys know something is important to me then they’ll help.”

“This is important to you?” Frankie fixed you with a stare and a raise of a brow. The look was one of pure are you serious right now? You threw up your hands and shrugged. “Okay, okay, I get your point. I’ll pay you guys, obviously.”

“Just a case of beer,” Frankie said. Tom might want money, but then against it was unlikely Tom would show up: he was leaving on Thursday. “Listen, just tell me the day you wanna do this and we will be there. I promise you that.”

You finished the pancakes and handed the plate back. “I was gonna let Lou know I wouldn’t be available on Friday night and get it done then.”

“Perfect, three-day weekend,” Frankie grinned. You smiled back, the first true smile he’d seen all night, and turned to greet a trucker who had just arrived.

Frankie grabbed his phone out of his pocket and opened the group text chat.

Catfish: Who’s free Friday for a favour?

Given the time, he wasn’t expecting an answer from any of them, so he was shocked when Benny texted back straight away.

Benny: Whatever it is, William and I are in. Even murder.

Catfish: It’s (probably) not going to come to murder. Just need help moving the girl I work with into her new place.

Pope: oh the 1 youre in love with? yeah ill help and ill bring that photo too

Frankie narrowed his eyes at the screen. He wouldn’t go so far as to say in love, so he decided to ignore that.

Catfish: It’s too expensive to hire moving ppl, so I said I’d help her, plus her ex is a cunt and I don’t know if he’ll try shit if it’s just her there

Pope: is she still there?

Catfish: No she’s staying at mine until she gets her stuff into her new place

Ironhead: Is this the guy you KO’d?

Catfish: Ok 1 why are you all awake? And 2 where did you hear that??? I didn’t KO him btw, but I could have if I felt like it.

Ironhead: I didn’t put my phone on silent

Ironhead: And I heard it from Benjamin. You know he loves gossip.

Benny: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Catfish: ????????? how did you do that?

Benny: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Frankie rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. They were impossible to talk to at this time of night, and he could already see that the conversation would just go in circles. He would find out how Benny made that weird little face though.

“Hey,” Frankie waved to get your attention, “the boys said they’d be happy to help, and they’ve all got pick-ups so no need to hire a moving truck.”

You looked confused, your eyes darting to the clock. “You spoke to them already?”

“Yeah, they’re light sleepers,” Frankie said. “Old army thing, I guess.”

You cleared your throat and blinked rapidly, “well, uh, let them know I’ll buy them all dinner as well as a case of beer each and money for gas. Whatever they need.” Frankie knew the boys wouldn’t accept your money, but he also knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer. This was something you could sort out Friday, he decided. If he was being honest, he was interested to see how would win that battle of wills. His money was on you. His money would always be on you.

~*~

“Can we go to the store quickly?” You asked, climbing into the truck next to Frankie once your shift was over. You were beginning to think of it as Your Spot now. Your spot, next to him, so close that if you wanted to you could reach out and hold his hand, lean over and kiss him.

“Yeah, what’d you need?” Frankie pulled out of the tiny diner parking lot and onto the road. Your cheeks heated slightly.

“A rotisserie chicken,” you mumbled, staring at one particular spot on the dash. “Sometimes when I’m . . . going through emotional turmoil I just need to eat. And I want a rotisserie chicken more than anything else right now.”

Frankie grinned his white toothed smile and you felt a little better about your habit. “That sounds like a fantastic idea, we should get two, one each.”

You smiled back, buoyed by the idea. The one and only time you had brought this up to Kurt, he had shot the idea down, grabbed your sides and commented on your weight. You knew there was nothing wrong with your weight, that there wasn’t no matter what size you were, but the comment hurt nonetheless.

But now you sat here in Frankie’s truck, and he seemed delighted with the idea of eating a whole rotisserie chicken in one sitting at 8AM. He drove to the grocery store, singing along to Stevie Nick’s Edge of Seventeen.

“I’ll go in, you wait here,” Frankie flashed you with a grin and raced into the store. You sat back, relaxed, and closed your eyes. You had been happier in the past twenty-four hours with Frankie than you had been almost the entirety of Kurt. You found yourself imagining a life with him; dinner at his cosy table, a new record playing every night, talking about your day at whatever jobs you had. Life with him would be comfort, it would be home. Your heart quickened at the thought of laying beside him each night in bed, bodies pressed against each other, skin against skin, delicious warmth -

His return snapped you out of your thoughts, the sight of him sent a rush of heat through you. He held a plastic bag in one hand, and keys in the other. “Should we eat these here or at home?”

Home.

The word sent a shiver of hope up your spine. Like he was saying it could be your home too. You moved an inch closer to him, so your thighs barely touched. It was electric though, the kind of touch that felt dangerous and familiar at the same time.

Your eyes met his and you wondered if he was feeling the same thing.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki

[aschlindartroom]

Mr. Hightower and Mr. Schmidt, sirs, please answer the following ones: 3, 6, 7, 16, 17, 18, 21, 22, 24 ;) (someday I'll stop at one questions, I swear, homies! <3 For the OC interviews btw)

@tryingtimi...

THIS IS SO LATE AND GOT SO LONG OMG.

Enjoy under the cut. My booiis. 😭

The CEO office of Schmidt & Foster is a massive circular room. The walls on either side of the large double doors are intricately painted-- a panorama of color depicting myths and stories from cultures long-dead. At the far end of the office, Martin Hightower and Eckehart Schmidt stand beside a wall of impossibly large windows, their silhouettes overlooking the sprawl of Midtown.

The high ceilings and sparse furnishings make the sounds of your entrance impossible to ignore, and the two men turn to look at you. Mr. Schmidt is a tall, imposing presence-- broad-shouldered and frowning. Even from across the room, you can see that he's put off by your presence, which you expected at least. Your colleagues warned you: Schmidt is a private man despite his position, who only does media appearances at the behest of his ADC Liaison. Liaison Hightower, at least, is a friendly face. His smile does not reach his eyes, but is accommodating. Luckily, all three of you know that this is a puff-piece-- a quick and easy profile.

Hightower invites you to sit on the plush sofa on the right side of the office, and motions to Eckehart to join you. The seats are arranged in a rectangle, two sofas facing one another and two chairs that bracket them. Eckehart takes a seat in one of the chairs. He does not make eye contact with you and taps his fingers on the chair's arm, impatient.

When Hightower returns, he has a coffee for himself and for you-- a high-priced luxury in New London. He rests a glass of water beside Eckehart a shoots him a smile. Eckehart looks like he'd rather be facing a pack of wolves. Martin takes a seat on the couch across from you.

"Shall we begin?" he asks.

What is your favorite childhood memory?

Martin Hightower sits back on the couch and crosses his legs, the picture of professionalism. "Growing up in Cobalt City hardly afforded many easy childhood experiences. To be honest, I'm not sure I have a "favorite" memory." He pauses to consider. "I suppose, the memories I cherish the most are ones of my mother." Eckehart looks up from the thread he's picking at, apparently interested. "When she was lucid, she was exceptionally kind and optimistic. The world could do with a few more people like her, I think."

Martin looks to Eckehart expectantly, almost playfully. Eckehart sighs and looks out the window. He picks at a loose thread on the chair, rubbing it between his fingers.

"I was pretty upset," Eckehart says finally. "Probably a nightmare. Can't remember how old. One of the household staff snuck an approximation of ice cream into the estate for me. They knew they'd get in trouble if they were caught, but they did it anyway. Being from privilege, I'd had ice cream once before, but..." He looks at you in the eye, the first time that afternoon. "Food tastes different when it's shared. It didn't feel like something I deserved." He smiles-- a self-deprecating thing-- and huffs a laugh. "It was so good that I cried."

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

"Leaving Lower London was probably the best thing that could have happened for me, but it didn't feel that way at the time," Martin replies. "For all its dangers, Cobalt City felt like home, and Midtown felt like some strange other world. I was forced to leave a lot of things I'd come to love behind."

Eckehart carefully considers his answer. "Making the choice to fill the post my father vacated when he died... that felt shameful for complicated reasons, even if there was purpose behind it. It was a daunting, weighty decision, and everything in me was screaming, 'walk away,' that it wasn't my problem, that I wasn't made to lead." He looks back out the window. "Never been good at letting well enough alone, but I don't regret it. I think we've done some good work."

Who do you look up to?

"I tend to admire those who possess the qualities I lack," Martin says. He smiles and looks askance at Eckehart, amused at some private joke. "He would hate if I referred to him by name, but his idealism is both frustrating and inspiring. I'd like to have his conviction, I think."

Eckehart grimaces, although it's clearly half-hearted. He turns toward the window and tries to hide his reddening cheeks. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. "He's an absolute twat," he says, "but he's... collected. I can be a bit of a loose cannon, I suppose, especially when I'm-- well, when I'm passionate about something." He closes his eyes, leaning his cheek against his fist. "Being near him reminds me to slow down, be more thoughtful." He looks pointedly at Martin. "He's still a twat though."

Describe your perfect day.

"It sounds so mundane," Martin says. "I'd wake up early to watch the sunrise. I would go out to breakfast, somewhere with a view-- good people, good music, that sort of thing. I would spend the afternoon with someone I care for and who cares for me, doing whatever made us both feel alive. A day of new and surprising experiences."

Eckehart crosses his arms and thinks. "I'd sleep in. Make myself a late breakfast. If this was a perfect day, I'd be in a good mood right away, and no one would know who the hell I was, so I'd contact a friend and invite them to the District 5 market to explore. I'd speak plainly to people, the way I could before I took this post at Schmidt & Foster. I'd end the day with good liquor, listening to pre-war jazz albums..." He sighs. "It'd require an act of God, but it sounds nice."

What makes you laugh?

Martin hums thoughtfully, touching his thumb to his chin. "I'm afraid that most humor passes over my head, I'm afraid. My palette in that area is limited."

Eckehart sits back huffs. "Don't let him fool you," he says. "Hightower is the sort of man who enjoys watching nice things get dirty. If a woman in her wedding dress were to fall in the mud, he'd be tickled. The nicer the dress, the better."

Martin smiles and sips his coffee. "Perhaps," he replies. "Although, it might be more accurate to say that I'm amused by the bucking of needless niceties and decorum. Social convention is highly overrated." He shoots Eckehart a teasing look. "I'll admit, it is very fun to watch Mr. Schmidt at Schmidt & Foster's annual soirees. False politeness runs rampant at that sort of affair, and Mr. Schmidt has a unique, 'cutting' sort of wit that offends certain sensibilities."

Eckehart raises his eyebrows at that. He looks between you--the interviewer-- and Martin. For a second he looks concerned, like Martin's just been caught with his hand in some cookie jar. The concern fades and he eyes Martin knowingly.

"I've never catered well to passive aggression," he says, thoughtful.

"No, you haven't." Martin is smiling.

Eckehart rests his chin on his fist and blinks at him. "I can't remember the last time I laughed," he says. "Can you?"

"Two weeks ago I told you were in a foul mood and I told you to go fuck yourself," Martin replied. "That got you going."

Eckehart sputters slightly, again looking between you and Martin. "You make me sound crass," he says, sitting back. "Refined Liaison Hightower, cursing. I suppose it caught me off guard."

"I suppose it did," Martin teases.

What’s the best way to cheer you up?

Eckehart grins. "This one's easy," he says. "Buy Hightower a ludicrously expensive cup of coffee and then argue with him until you're blue in the face. He loves that."

Martin smiles, but doesn't disagree.

"Me, I'll admit that I don't 'cheer up' easily," Eckehart continues. "I think letting me alone to work out my frustration is the best solution." He looks to Martin for confirmation.

Martin is still smiling. "I pass," he says.

Eckehart raises an eyebrow. "You pass? What do you mean you pass?"

"What's that old saying?" Martins says thoughtfully. "A magician never reveals his secrets."

Describe your ideal partner.

Martin closes his eyes and shrugs, as though to say, 'What can you do?' "Someone cute?" he replies. "That probably sounds so shallow. It is, I suppose. Other than that? Any partner of mine would need to be my equal-- a person who isn't afraid to challenge me. Someone earnest."

Martin looks to Eckehart, awaiting his answer. Eckehart crosses his arms over his chest and crosses his legs. "I don't think about it," he says finally. "I don't know... Someone dependable? Intelligent? Someone who doesn't suck up to me. I hate that."

What’s the easiest way to flirt with you?

Martin looks a bit wistful. "I do love to banter," he says. "If I find a person attractive and they verbally spar with me... well, I'm hooked. I'm not above gifts either." He smiles. "I'm a simple man."

Martin looks to Eckehart expectantly. Eckehart blushes. "No one in their right mind would flirt with me, so I'd hardly know." He looks away. "Be kind. Anticipate my needs. Get to know me... I'm not a hard man to sort out."

What would you consider your main love language?

Martin responds quickly. "Quality time, if my previous answer is any indication. Though 'gifts' is a very close second."

Eckehart shrugs. "I don't really think we can limit ourselves to one. Humans are complicated. If had to choose... I'd choose quality time too, I suppose. Acts of service as a close second."

Eckehart looks at you, trying his best to look put-out. "Are we done or what?"

[putschki1969]

「Wakana Botanical Land “Music Party Vol.2"」 Live Report/Commentary

Don’t forget to tune in to today’s event! A live stream option IS AVAILABLE for these two fan club exclusive performances. There is STILL time to buy a ticket so be sure to use that chance! If you can’t watch it live today, you can rely on the archived version which will be uploaded after the event and is available until June 6! (Tweet by Wakana staff)

EVENT DETAILS (find ALL details and a tutorial HERE): ■ May 29, 2021  ◇ Day performance Open 14:15 Start 15:00 (JST) ◇ Night performance Open 17:15 Start 18:00 (JST)

Note: I will try my best to do a live commentary/first reaction kind of thing so this post will be updated as the day goes by. I really hope they have fixed the streaming problems they had last time with the Spring Shark Festival. It worked fine once they got it working but it took quite a while to get there. They don’t have that luxury today since there is an on-site audience, it’s pretty much impossible to delay the performance should any streaming issues arise. On a side note, I am keeping my expectations low as far as the audio-quality is concerned but we will see, maybe it’s good. Without further ado, let’s get to it!

Live Commentary

Okay, it’s about to start, there are some weird noises in my headphones but it’s manageable. Otherwise, it works totally fine! I think they fixed the weird noise issue for the evening performance. Haven’t heard it yet. Video/stream-quality is perfect for me (no freeze so far), they have a few different angles which I appreciate. A bit of shaky-cam here and there but nothing too bad. I feel like they improved quite a bit on the camera work for the evening performance. Sound is also surprisingly good.

Setlist

Happy Hello Day: The atmosphere is already so nice, everyone is clapping enthusiastically. I love it! The arrangement with piano and guitar is perfect for this song. Poor Wakana forgot the lyrics though so they had to start again. Awww, so precious, I wanna cuddle her already! Loved the “lalala” at the end! No mistakes for her night performance. Everything went smoothly. I feel like the atmosphere is a bit more toned down compared to the day performance.

瑠璃色の空 / Ruriiro no Sora (DAY): Okay, I have never really liked this song but this acoustic version is actually pretty nice. I may have actually become a fan! :P Thank you Wakana, for this beautiful rendition. Hard Rain (NIGHT): YESSSSS! So much win! While I didn’t mind this version of Ruriiro no Sora, I MUCH prefer Hard Rain.

ひらりひらり / Hirari Hirari: Not my favourite of the “magic moment” album but I really enjoy listening to the live version like this.

442: OMG, I am already blown away! This IS SO GOOD!!!! The live version (especially with this acoustic arrangement) is a REVELATION, everyone needs to listen to it! I am so glad we are also getting this on the Blu-ray this summer!

Talk Corner: Awww, once again Wakana embarrasses herself by introducing her host Bunta Nagamatsu with the wrong name. Seeing her this flustered is super cute but on the other hand, I feel sorry for her T_T They are answering some of the simple/casual questions that fan club members were able to submit in advance. It was interesting to find out that she stretches for quite a long of them a few hours before a live and that she carries pretty much all of her belongings in her bag on a performance day XD Will be summarising them properly once we get the archived version. They are using different questions for the evening performance! YAY! At the end they are demonstrating their kendama skills but Wakana fails to catch the ball the first two times but then on the third try, SUCCESS! She is so happy! At the evening performance she looked like she pulled a muscle doing the trick but yay, she managed to catch the ball on her first try

海を見ていた午後 / Umi wo miteita gogo: Yuming-cover chosen for Takebe-san due to a connection. They picked this song because it features places in Yokohama (today’s live is taking place in Yokohama). Too short but very nice. Not a particularly big fan of the voice she uses for the song though.

アイノカタチ / Ai no Katachi: Misia-cover chosen for Ishinari-san due to a connection. His guitar playing is actually featured in the original recording of the song. Wakana also sang this in one of her fan club videos (where she did her nails). Wahhhh, I am in love!! Such a beautiful cover! This hit me right in the feels, even more so the second time around! *bursts into tears*

I have a dream: Kalafina-cover chosen for Wakana due to a connection. *sobs* Ahhhhhh, this is beautiful. I have no words. Not all Kalafina songs work as a solo song but this one certainly does. Wakana nailed it!! That Kajiura-go part!! Btw, random question for everyone who has been watching the stream, where is that drum/percussion-like sound coming from? It’s noticable in almost all songs but it’s obviously not coming from the piano or guitar. Just curious since I am not an expert on that kind of stuff so I wouldn’t know what tools they have to create this sort of sound without an actual drum set or whatever. Thanks to @sa-nyan for replying, it is INDEED Ishinari using some sort of pedal.

翼 / Tsubasa: Oh wow, already digging the acoustic arrangement. Can I just say how much I appreciate it that Wakana has two super talented and passionate musicians on her side. She deserves to be accompanied by the best. This is one of Wakana’s oldest solo songs so you can tell she is very sure of herself, no hesitation whatsoever, just powerful vocals. Perfection!

恋はいつも / Koi wa Itsumo: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! You all know this is one of my faves so I couldn’t be happier!! Wakana showing the audience how to clap :P SO CUTE! I can’t clap in rhythm for the life of me so I am kinda glad I am not there to embarrass myself :P Too bad the audience was able to sing along this time (probably because of COVID regulations). A little lyric slip-up at the beginnging but Wakana dealt with it professionally.

ENCORE: 金木犀 / Kinmokusei: Ohhhhhhh! And another one of my all-time faves!! Such a good setlist!! As always, beautiful!

ENCORE: あとひとつ / Ato hitotsu: Wakana explains the reason why this hasn’t been released on CD yet. She wants it to be a special experience that is reserved for live performances. She feels this exclusivity is nice. The PERFECT ending just like every other time she sings it.

DAY: Wakana is wearing a lovely salmon/orange/pink (?) coloured toga/tunic-sort of dress. She looks so pretty! It’s off-shoulder (always the best look for her!) and there is a white skirt layered underneath. There is also some binding around her waist. her hair is in an elaborate up-do. NIGHT: She changed into a lovely wide blue gown which goes well with the evening flair. Her hair is in a cute high ponytail. She is wearing her clear chain earrings again.

During the first MC of the day performance Wakana is already getting carried away talking about this and that so Takebe-san has to remind her they are on a tight schedule. XD At the end of the live Wakana announced an online release event for her Blu-ray. It’s gonna take place on August 21. The after-talk is now available. They filmed it after the evening performances answering a few more fan questions.

The archive videos for the day and night performance are already available! Please enjoy!

Be sure to fill in the survey to let Wakana and her team know how you felt about the event!! There will also be a Bokutachi no VOICE thread to share your impressions!

[beautifulterriblequeen]

What do your elf eyes see? Runaan and Nyx

This is exactly the kind of distraction I needed today, so please feel free to get inordinately excited about this like I did.

First, a collection of fun but seemingly unrelated eye facts in TDP:

Runaan has mild heterochromia, with his left eye being just a little lighter in hue than his right.

Viren’s eyes are gray, until Aaravos puts bug spit on one of them and turns it a nice purple like his own astral-projection eyes.

Nyx has obvious heterochromia, with one blue eye and one brown.

And the oasis in the Midnight Desert sure is fun, pretty, and mysterious.

Eyes are cool, eyes are fun. They’re pretty, and there’s some cool subtext about seeing clearly, vision, etc. etc. going on too.

But I’m gonna talk about color today. Actual literal eye color. And what it means for Runaan, Nyx, and the defense of Xadia.

Here’s a smidge of background: @kotikala​ had an awesome hc that Nyx was actually guarding the oasis, that her endless nomadic lifestyle was really so someone was always nearby for some reason. I added the observation that the big weird swoops in the black sand looked not-random, and kind of like huge (warding?) runes one might draw with the tail of an ambler, which could be refreshed against windstorms on every circuit around the desert.

The oasis is clearly Moonshadow. The obelisks, the towers, and even the tents are bristling with Moonshadow motifs.

Maybe Nyx is there because Skywings like to be mobile and Moonshadows don’t. And also because shadows are hard to come by in a desert.

So what does the oasis have to do with eyes?

Let’s set the scene with some S3 developments.

Viren’s eyes used to match, until Aaravos performed some kind of spell and turned one of them a different color.

The thing is, when one of Viren’s eyes changed color, so did one of Aaravos’s.

he looks so adorkable right side up, omg

Aaravos’s top of pupils, right and left:

Aaravos’s bottom of pupils, right and left:

In the dungeon, too, because lighting is lighting and I don’t have a 3D turnaround for his astral form:

Aaravos’s top of pupils, right and left:

Aaravos’s bottom of pupils, right and left:

His right eye, presumably, has changed to match more closely with Viren’s right, as if he has given up some of his color to affect it.

*rubs hands gleefully* So let’s take a look at Nyx and Runaan’s eyes. If their left eyes have some kind of similar connection, the blue of her left eye should match pretty closely with the blue of his right eye. So, just a quick dropper test to get us started:

Bottom of Nyx’s left and Runaan’s right eyes:

Top of Nyx’s left and Runaan’s right eyes:

UMM!! 

I... I can barely tell them apart, guys. And I can’t remember who’s is whose, so:

<Mythbuster> Remember kids, the difference between science and messing around is writing it down. </Mythbuster>

Runaan, upper iris, right eye (bg color is Nyx):

Nyx, upper iris, left eye (bg color is Runaan):

Runaan, lower iris, right eye (bg color is Nyx):

Nyx, lower iris, left eye (bg color is Runaan):

(They’re not perfectly identical--and pixels be pixels--but I don’t have a 3D turnaround headshot for Runaan to compare with Nyx’s, so I had to use a screenshot in the best lighting I could find. Even then, it’s nearly impossible for me to spot the difference.)

The design team could’ve picked any color for Nyx’s left eye if they only wanted her to be a cute Skywing with heterochromia. But they picked the colors of Runaan’s right eye. (btw I checked, and her right eye doesn’t match Ethari’s) And since we’ve seen Viren’s eye change color due to magic, and we can tell that Aaravos’s eyes don’t 100% match after the eye spell he did, I think this counts as a secret parallel in the show.

I think it means that Runaan can see through Nyx’s eye, at least sometimes. Probably with some extras that Aaravos just skipped over with Viren, like asking permission and being able to withdraw it. Consent is not Aaravos’s strong suit, but Runaan would want a willing ally for security’s sake--even if he has to work with a chaotic Skywing. (omg the Rayla parallels, omg the Callum parallels)

Why would Runaan want to do a spell like this? Security of the oasis. It’s a Moonshadow place, clearly very important since it’s guarded by the Wonderwall. And he’s the leader of the assassins. Security--protecting Xadia--is his whole job. Nyx could be some kind of ambling security camera for him.

Why would Nyx agree to something like this, though? This trope can be very iffy, and as we’ve seen with Viren, it’s easy to abuse it. Maybe their arrangement gives her almost complete autonomy in the desert with no one pestering her except some random bossy Moonshadow elf every full moon or something, and he’s not even there in person, he just knocks on her eye and asks to take a look around for a second, maybe to make sure the Wonderwall looks tip top and the tents are okay. (because Moonshadows like tents, apparently) 

We don’t know anything about the oasis yet other than what it looks like, so maybe it doesn’t get much, or any, use, and Runaan’s connection to her is more of a Use In Case Of Emergency kind of thing and they’ve never even talked aside from when the spell was created. Either way, changing eye color via a watching spell might be a small price to pay for all the cool salvage she finds all over the desert while she’s “working.”

Additionally, Nyx’s staff has Moonshadow motifs in it. Moonshadow colors, Runaan’s actual shoulder markings, Moon rune points! I love headcanoning that Ethari made it for her--and then she used it to smack his arrow. What a chaos bird.

Rayla seems to recognize something about it, while Callum’s all “Something so strangely familiar.” Yeah, you think?

Alternately, there could be some angst in here. Just because Nyx has Runaan’s eye color and an Ethari Special in her hands doesn’t mean she really wants them. Maybe she, and maybe Runaan too, feel this is one of those “duty first” kinds of things. I can see Runaan making this part of his “my heart for Xadia” mentality, doing whatever it takes, but maybe this explains why Nyx is her particular brand of chaotic. Skywings like their independence, and living with the possibility of a broody Moonshadow borrowing your eye sometimes is likely less independence than Nyx would like if she had her druthers. If she didn’t enthusiastically sign up for the eye spell, she could act more rebellious and chaotic than she normally would--destroying lighthawks, stealing dragons, you know, the whole Hanna Solo bit.

If I had to guess, I’d go with some cooperative shenaniganry, like echoes of the Order of the Phoenix from 300 years ago. Standing against Aaravos put the elves all on the same side, so Runaan resigns himself to this extra duty pretty quickly, and Nyx finds a way to answer the question “But what’s in it for me?” pretty quickly.

As for how Runaan might use this, say, while he was in an extreme situation? Well, first of all, he wouldn’t if he was planning to die in Viren’s dungeon. If he called for help, he’d only be endangering more elves. Plus, his honor was a bit tattery at the moment, and he might’ve felt he didn’t deserve saving even if it were easy (don’t, don’t get me started). 

And second, I’ve got no idea how their connection might function, except that it’s got to be different than Aaravos and Viren’s. Is it to do with her staff, maybe, and certain phases of the moon? That seems very Moonshadow. 

Also, thirdly, I don’t know how much these two characters interact, so it’s possible Runaan “I have trust issues” of the Moonshadow Elves wouldn’t trust Nyx to carry a message for him to the nearest shady pawn broker, let alone Ethari. But I did think about it, ha. I’m really hoping now that we get to see some hints or use for this connection in future seasons, whenever we get to learn more about the oasis! 

The only downside I’m getting from this wild detail and fun headcanoning is that I really enjoyed Nyx having natural heterochromia. But she’s still amazing, and her eyes are still brilliantly pretty, and I support her. 

Anyway here’s Nyx giving Rayllum the bird.

I’m cackling at the thought that she gave it to Runaan at some point, too.

[hallowxiu]

Human Realm Delicacy

word count: 2.1k

summary: A thought pops into your head, and suddenly you have the urge to give the characters your favorite human world food.

a/n: this is pretty much just crack, but i got this idea in my head some time last week and i needed to write it lol

mc is gender neutral btw 

“Please?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Your cooking is horrific.” Alright, he sure isn’t holding back his thoughts today, you find yourself thinking.

“But it’s a human delicacy!” You stomp your foot on the ground, hands planted on your hips as you stubbornly stare up at the eldest demon. “Let me cook it for you! It’s all the rave with the humans! They love it! I bet Luke and Lord Diavolo would enjoy it too.” Maybe not Barbatos, but you decide to keep that to yourself. Lucifer’s looking at you with a look full of doubt.

“If you give Lord Diavolo food poisoning, I will make sure that I end your entire bloodline.”

“Deal!”

Lucifer sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t make deals so easily with demons.” He chides lightly. “And there was nothing to make a deal on, we didn’t agree to anything.”

“We did!” You immediately argue back. “I agreed to make a dish from the human realm and you agreed to end my entire bloodline if I poison Lord Diavolo.” Lucifer’s eye is twitching in annoyance but he decides to lay the matter to rest. He knew you could be just as stubborn, if not more stubborn, than his brothers and talking you out of your idea would be nearly impossible, even if he did bring up punishment methods in an attempt to intimidate you. You watch in triumph as Lucifer turns and walks away, muttering colorful words under his breath.

👽👽👽

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered all of you here today.” You’re talking to an empty room. “Well, don’t worry! The answer is staring you right in your face.” It’s really a shame that no one can see the smug look of confidence on your face. You were also in your pajamas at the dining room table. That alone would earn you a scolding from Lucifer or Satan.

You were currently practicing the reveal of your… delicacy , to the brothers, the angels, Solomon, and Lord Diavolo and Barbatos. Although you could have spent this time preparing your dish, you thought presentation was also an essential part to a good meal. You were convinced none of them, with the exception of maybe Solomon, had tried this dish before, so you needed it to be perfect.

“What’s happening?” Beelzebub asks as he walks into the kitchen, opening the fridge to rummage for food. “Who are you talking to?” You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment and freeze in place. Maybe if you stay still long enough he’ll forget you’re there. A few seconds of silence pass and just as you’re starting to think you got lucky, Beelzebub walks up beside you, staring at the empty table as he snacks on some food. “Are you feeling okay?” He looks over at you with a quirked eyebrow. “I don’t see anyone at the table.”

You close your eyes and inhale deeply before looking up at the red headed demon. “I’m practicing my presentation skills.” There wasn’t a point in lying, not after getting caught talking to yourself. You feel a sheepish smile form on your lips as you rock on the heels of your feet. You figured that out of all the demons you lived with, having Beelzebub be the one to walk in on you was for the best. You’re pretty sure Lucifer or Satan would have immediately lectured you on lack of sleep, and you think you’d get questioning glances from everyone else. “Lucifer probably told everyone by now, but I plan on cooking everyone a human dish and I want the presentation for it to be perfect. It enhances the experience, after all.” You nod firmly to yourself as if to confirm your own words.

“He did tell us.” There’s a look of excitement on his face and his stomach begins to growl at the mere thought of whatever dish you’d be cooking up for them. “I’m excited. It’s a special treat when you’re able to cook for us.”

You look up at him with a quizzical look. “Really? Because Lucifer said my cooking was, quote on quote, horrific.” He shrugs his shoulders in response before turning around and walking back to the fridge.

“It’s still better than Solomon’s though.”

👽👽👽

You scan the aisles of the market as you push your shopping cart, your eyes scanning the shelves for your special ingredients. You didn’t need a ton of ingredients, but maybe the brothers and other guests would appreciate some side dishes. At least, you knew Beelzebub would anyway. “How long do ya have to take? I have plenty of other things I could be doin’ right now!” You turn around to look at Mammon sulking behind you, hands buried deep in his pockets as he looks around with an uninterested expression.

“I didn’t invite you.” You gently remind the second eldest. “You invited yourself, insisting that I, a human, need guiding in the human realm.” You see a blush tint his cheeks and you chuckle to yourself quietly. “You can always head back if you want. I know my way around.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me? Lucifer would have my head on a stick if I left ya wandering around on your own.” The demon grumbles under his breath and catches up with you so that he’s walking by your side. “What do ya even plan on makin’ anyway?” He looks down into the almost empty shopping cart. “There’s not much in there. Ya couldn’t have found this stuff back home?”

“Nope!” Is your response as you continue to push the cart. “I mean, the Devildom might have something similar to what I’m making, but it wouldn’t be the same. You need the authentic human dish.” You send a wink in his direction, the white haired boy blushing and looking away from you, grumbling under his breath once again. You glance down at the several bags of frozen food in your cart, your lips pressed into a thin line as you think to yourself. You really only needed one bag as your dish didn’t require a lot of ingredients, but with Beelzebub to count for, you would need to double what you were making. Other than that, you were pretty sure you were done shopping for the day. “Honestly, I think we’re done.”

Mammon perks up at this, leaning into your side as he gazes down into the cart. “It looks… interestin’. Is this really enough for everyone?” He picks up the bag of frozen food, shaking it in his hands slightly. “It sounds… small. Is Lucifer going to be okay with this? Looks greasy.”

You snatch the bag from his hands, putting it back into the shopping cart. “As long as I don’t accidentally poison Lord Diavolo I won’t get into any trouble. He can dislike the food all he wants.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders. “I’m sure at least Luke and Beelzebub will enjoy them. I think Belphegor might like it too; oh- Leviathan will definitely enjoy them. I’d be surprised if he didn’t already try them before.” You snap your fingers at the thought of the third eldest. You were feeling more and more confident by the minute.

“How do ya make them?” Mammon asks with peaked interest as you two make your way to the express check out.

“Uh, you can just shove them in the oven or microwave, maybe a toaster oven.”

“And it doesn’t take long to make?”

“Not really. It’s pretty simple.”

“I like this already.” Mammon says with a toothy grin.

👽👽👽

You stand at the end of the table proudly, gazing at everyone’s plates while everyone looks at you curiously. “So? What do you think?” Your hands are on your hips as you look on with a grin. “Smells good, right?” Solomon has his face buried in his hands and Leviathan’s looking at you in amusement. “Hey, come on! Don’t be shy; I slaved away making these!”

“Slaved away? Ya just popped these in the oven and called it a day.” Mammon snorts as he pushes the food around on his plate with a finger. “They’re too hot! I’m gonna burn my tongue, human!”

“Then blow on it! It’s part of the experience anyway.” You mutter under your breath, an annoyed expression on your face.

“Burning your tongue is part of the experience?” This time it’s Lord Diavolo who speaks, looking down at the food curiously. “Humans never fail to amaze me! You guys are so funny.”

“What’s it called?” Simeon asks as he looks at you from where he’s sitting. “They’re so tiny and cute. Heat packets.”

“Are you asking if they’re called heat packets or are you describing them as heat packets?” Luke asks the other angel with a raised eyebrow.

“They’re called pizza rolls.” Solomon responds with a distraught look on his face, Leviathan snickering as he nods his head in agreement with Solomon.

“They’re little pockets of death, but they’re delicious.” Leviathan says before popping one into his mouth. “Your mouth goes numb after a while, so the burning doesn’t hurt anymore. That is, if you can’t wait for them to cool off, anyway.” He comments while he watches Beelzebub down the entire plate of pizza rolls.

“They’re too small.” The redhead complains. “But I like how they taste. Like pizza, but small and round.”

“You just described what they’re called.” Belphegor snorts while pushing his plate towards his twin, the brother happily accepting the offer.

“It’s too greasy. It’s terrible for my skin!” Asmodeus has a look of disgust on his face as he pushes his plate towards Beelzebub as well. “And since you didn’t technically make them, I don’t feel bad about saying that.” You roll your eyes from the blond’s comment, though you weren’t surprised by this outcome. You figured he wouldn’t like it due to the grease. You look over at Satan who seems to share the same opinions as his younger brother. A sudden gasp and pained moan grabs your attention, your gaze landing on Mammon.

“It- it fuckin’- it’s so hot!” He’s fanning at his mouth as tears form at the corners of his eyes, the demon trying to cool off his mouth.

“LMAO! You look like such a normie!” Leviathan cackles as he pulls out his D.D.D, more than likely updating one of his social media accounts on the incident. “You need to finish chewing it if you want it to stop burning! You need to swallow the food!” Mammon shoves the plate of food away from him hastily as he jerks out of his seat, grabbing his cup and chugging down the water.

“Well, you definitely provided us with free entertainment.” Asmodeus giggles as he looks over at you with a wink. You huff and plop yourself down in one of the empty seats, pushing at the pizza rolls that sit on your plate. You were hoping this would’ve been more of a success, but at least Beelzebub seemed to enjoy the food.

“I think they’re great!” Luke says enthusiastically, and you’re wondering if the small angel sensed you were feeling a little down about the outcome. Regardless, you couldn’t deny how cute the boy looked as he happily ate the food in front of him, his feet swinging from his chair.

“I also think it’s quite interesting.” Lord Diavolo says with a wide smile, half his plate empty. Interesting doesn’t quite mean good, you think to yourself as you lean back in your chair. Someone clearing their throat makes you look back over at the demon who’s sitting across from you. Lucifer looks unimpressed, but you notice that his plate is cleaned off.

“Did you like them, Lucifer?” You ask and lean forward, a smile on your lips as you inspect his plate.

“It was greasy.” Is all he comments, laying his napkin down on the table. You look around the table, mentally noting that besides Lucifer, only Beelzebub finished his plate completely while the others were still working on it (with the exception of Belphie, who fed his to Beel, and Asmodeus and Satan who were not amused, and Mammon who was downing as much water as he could). You think that’s a good sign, but you’re not sure.

“I’m just glad you finished it.” You say and lean back in your seat. “My cooking isn’t that bad after all, right Lucifer?”

“Shoving food in an oven doesn’t count as cooking.” The man snorts as he gets up from his seat. “But since you’re so keen on being today’s chief, you won’t mind cleaning up all the dishes then, right?” There’s a playful smirk on his lips, but one that tells you not to argue with him. So much for wowing everyone with your human realm delicacy.

[dolce-peach]

Hii! Could you do like a Loki X reader avenger that has like angel like powers that would be interesting! Btw I love your fics hope you're safe out there have a nice day :))

with you

pairing: loki x avenger!reader

warnings: slight violence, blood, loki being an absolute lil bean at times

a/n: tysm anon!  i got excited for this one, cuz i’m a sucker for anything fantasy :)  also i put loki on the team because i believe that’s beautiful *wipes eyes* hope you guys like it!

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

You were grooming your large white wings, sitting on the edge of the Avengers Tower.  You relished the cool breeze circling your legs as they dangled over the side of the building.  Some pedestrians recognized you from down below and waved, and you smiled and waved back with a wing.

Life as an Avenger was strange but good.  Though you did appreciate them, you just couldn’t get used to the way humans went about their days.  They were odd yet endearing creatures.

When they asked you to be part of their team, you couldn’t refuse their cause to protect the world.

“Avengers, please report to Hangar 1,” JARVIS’ voice echoed through the comms.

Without hesitation, you folded your wings comfortably and made your way downstairs until you arrived at the hangar, where everyone was waiting.

You naturally gravitated towards Loki, who was surveying the scene before him.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Not the slightest idea,” he said.  “Something about Hydra, I assume.”

You frowned.

As far as you knew, Tony and Steve had been tracking down numerous Hydra forts looking for the stolen sceptre Loki wielded once before.  He had since then broken away from the effects, but you knew it still haunted him.

“What’s the situation, Tony?” Steve asked as he came forward.

“JARVIS picked something up over in Sokovia.  I think we should check it out,” Tony explained.  He brought up a hologram of a fort.  “It’s small and abandoned.”

“Which would make it easy for them to hide more numbers underground,” Natasha concluded.

Bruce raised an eyebrow.  “C-can they do that?”

“We must be prepared for whatever they throw our way,” Thor said.  “If that means to fight fire with fire, then we’ll do so.”

Clint shrugged.  “Seems sketchy, but this is the first lead we’ve had in a few weeks.”

Steve nodded.  “We’ll have two parties.  Y/N and Loki can sneak inside and look for the sceptre while the rest of us take them on from outside,” he directed.  “If they find it, then by the time they get out and get back to us, we’ll already be long gone before Hydra can do anything.”

“You heard the captain,” Tony said, quirking an eyebrow.  “Let’s move, people.”

You followed everyone onto the Quinjet when Loki grabbed hold of your wrist.   You turned to face him, seeing the concern in his eyes.

“Loki?”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said.

“Why not?  I have you.”

He sighed.  “Yes, but if we manage to find the sceptre, what if i turn against you?”  He looked away.  “What if I can’t save you?”

You laughed.  “I’m an angel, dear.  I don’t need saving.”  You brushed his hair back gently.  “And you won’t turn.  I won’t let you, I promise.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling softly.  “Okay.”

“Come on, Rock of Ages,” Tony called.  “Waiting on you!”

Loki chuckled, rolling his eyes.  “You’re lucky I quietly deal with your antics, Stark.”

You pat his shoulder before getting yourself situated.  “Just let it go,” you teased.

--

You flew stealthily through the trees, carrying Loki as you went.  Gunshots and canon fire echoed in the distance, signaling that the Hydra soldiers were distracted by the rest of the Avengers.  

Once you were close to the back entrance, you set Loki down and ran alongside him, meeting a few soldiers head on.

You swung your arm out in front of you, flashing a blinding light that made the soldiers collapse.  You twirled around and blew down the door with one powerful gust from your wings.

“You know, I could’ve handled that,” Loki said as he followed you through the door.

“I know,” you explained.  “But we don’t have much time.”

“I know,” he said quietly with a smirk as the two of you continued down the dark hallway.

Most of the soldiers had cleared out, either evacuating or going out to assist against the rest of the Avengers.  The lucky few you encountered either instantly fainted upon looking into your golden eyes, or screamed in horror at the illusions Loki cast.

At last, you made it to a secret passageway that deviated far from the original hallway.  Your wings shivered from the chilled air that swept through the narrow tunnel.

Your breath was a cloud that barely escaped your lips as you were nearly knocked from your feet by a blur.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Loki draw his daggers as he wrestled with a young teenage boy with silver hair.

Before you could go and help, your vision grew red before settling.  You turned to see a girl retreating to the shadows, her irises an extreme crimson.  Confusion took a hold of you as old memories clouded your eyes, but you were still able to fight through it and pin her against the stone wall.

“It didn’t work,” she breathed, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” you questioned.  

You tightened your grip around her arms, feeling an intense fire rise to your fingertips.  The girl cried out.

“Let me go!” she hissed.  

“Answer my question,” you said calmly, raising your other flaming hand.  “I may be an angel, but I can be the devil if I want to.”

Before you could inflict any more harm, she disappeared in a blur.

You turned to see Loki wiping his bleeding lip, his daggers dissolving within his long fingers.  You rushed over, running your fingers along his lip.

He chuckled.  “I’m fine.”

Your eyes were filled with concern.  “Who were they?” you asked as you began to heal him.

“I’m not sure, but they were young,” he said.  “Maybe enhanced.”

Your fingertips gave off a soft golden glow, sealing the cut back together.  He touched his lip when you were finished, a small smile of gratitude appearing.

“Let’s get the sceptre and get out of here,” you said.

“Great plan.”

The said sceptre lay in the middle of the room under a large Chitauri Leviathan.  Other broken parts of the Chitauri soldiers lay around on various tables, making the room smell strongly of burnt flesh.  

Loki cautiously took the sceptre in his hands, shakily breathing out as he touched the gold staff.

You touched his shoulder.  “You okay?”

He sighed, which was enough for you.  “Let’s get back.”

“Captain, we have the sceptre,” you said in your earpiece as the two of you walked back through the tunnel.  

“Good.  We’re by the edge of the forest.”

“Copy that.”

You were suffocating before the two of you emerged out in the snowy forest, the fresh cold air filling your chest.

And without a warning, your knees buckled.

--

Y/N!

You watched drops of blood fall onto the white snow beneath your feet.  They fell one by one, staining the pure white until a pool was created around you.

Shaking, you lifted your gaze up to see someone aiming a bow and arrow at you.  His face was blurred and dark in the red fire of the forest.

A shot rang through the air, and moments later, the arrow dug itself into your stomach.

You fell to your knees, feeling the one thing you were promised you wouldn’t feel.  Pain blossomed from the wound, making you double over.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes shot open, staring directly into Loki’s.  

Breathe! your mind screamed.

Your eyes darted around, trying to grasp where you were.

“It’s okay!  You’re safe,” he said.  “You’re at home.”

“Home,” you murmured.  After a few deep breaths, you closed your eyes.  “What happened?”

“The enhanced we ran into...”

“What about them?”

“We think one of them might have affected you,” he explained.

You shook your head.  “That’s impossible.”

“They got their powers from the sceptre,” he said.  “Who’s to say they can’t knock an angel or a god off their feet?”

You sighed, covering your face in your hands.  You could almost still feel the snow against your skin.

“That vision you had,” Loki began.  “Who was that?”

“A fallen angel.  A comrade I tried to save,” you replied.  You looked at him and raised an eyebrow.  “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t look into my head anymore.”

“I needed to know if you were alright,” he said.  “If you died, I’d be beside myself.”

You pursed your lips.  “I’m fine,” you said.  “Just shaken, that’s all.”  You laughed bitterly.  “I thought I forgot it all, but I guess no matter how long you live, you’ll always remember something like that.”

Loki nodded.  “I know what you mean.”

You took one long look at the god and smiled sadly.  “Yes, you do.”

He brushed his black locks back.  “I’m sorry, Y/N.  I should’ve sensed them coming.”

“It’s okay,” you said.  “Truly, it’s okay.  It’s a good thing we were prepared anyways, otherwise, we would’ve had a hard time making it out.”

He chuckled.  “True, but nothing’s impossible for this god,” he said as he pointed to himself.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, making Loki grin from ear to ear.  Hearing your laugh was enough to cure all the sicknesses in the world and ban darkness to the edges of the galaxy.  

It was a sound that vividly spelled, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

And it was.

[birdwonder]

Not sure if you’ll allow this or not but I’ll try. Before Christmas is over and I’m officially late. How about Josuke, Kakyoin and senku (see? Since it’s from more than one fandom dunno if it’s alright) where their friend is working on Christmas decorations and suddenly picks them up and when they ask “what are you doing” they just respond with “putting the star on the Christmas tree.” (If the multiple fandom thing messes with the master list you can drop senku :3)

|| you, my friend, have saved me in the way the way that because i dont have time to write a christmas special - i answered your’s before the day ended to be one instead ! and also because i wanted to write smth for Kakyoin and Senku but didn’t have the ideas :D i dont mind doing multifandom requests ! though im going to put Senku in my next post, separately so i hope that’s ok ! this took a whole day to write since its Christmas so i’ve been busy so i hope the poor quality isn’t too bad ! [ btw theyre all sort of romantic to some extent ? i hope thats ok ! ]

Josuke + Kakyoin | Christmas Tree Decorating

Noriaki Kakyoin

“Oh honey, could you pass me the red bauble please?”

When the words reached his ears, Kakyoin raised his head from the box he was shuffling through and nodded in response to the request his wife had made. “No problem,” he curtly said, picking up the aforementioned decoration and standing up to hand it over to the shorter lover, smiling when you gave him your own grin.

Decorating the Christmas tree was a special tradition between the two of you since it gave a sense of family within your home and allowed you to bond both in silence and verbally whenever one of you made a silly comment or cracked a small joke.

Nimble fingers carefully took the fragile ball and hooked it’s string onto the evergreen’s branch, it’s evergreen aspect coming from the fact it was artificial, something Kakyoin and you decided would be the best choice financially and it would make things infinitely more convenient than going out every year to try and fit a large tree into a car. As you pulled away from the tree, arms wrapped around your torso and the red headed man rested his chin upon your shoulder, humming in content at the hard work you two poured into turning the once plain tree into a true Christmas living room centre piece.

“It’s just perfect, you did so well,” Kakyoin praised, turning his face a little to press a kiss upon your cheek to further his compliment. You then turned your own head turned to the side to kiss Kakyoin fully, tired fingers stroking over his pale cheek that was accustomed to your gentle affections and welcoming touch.

“Hush you, you did as much as me! I would still be working on this thing if I didn’t have my wonderful husband to help me.” You exalterd, removeing your hand from him by dragging your fingertips from his cheek down to his jaw, moving your body away from his so that you could place your hands on your hips in a determined manner. You then added, “we’re not done yet, though!”

“What do you mean?” Kakyoin tilted his head to the side, looking the tree up and down to attempt to understand. Baubles? Check. Tinsel? Check. Lights? Check. There wasn’t a single free space for anything more on the tree so he was struggling to see what else you could want really.

“Kakyoin don’t you see?” You jokingly scolded, pointing upwards, “we haven’t added the star yet!”

The ex-Crusader made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, almost slapping a hand over his face over his mistake. The star! How could he forget? It was only the most satisfying thing to add to the tree, especially when you both spent hours a couple of years ago choosing the perfect one. You both had almost settled on angel instead because choosing a star was strangely difficult, though you both realised that a winged person would take even longer to pick.

“Of course! Sorry about that,” he chuckled, albeit a little nervously due to his mistake, “let me put it up then.” With that, he swooped down to pick you up into his arms, arms around the back of your knees and the side of his face resting against your stomach until he look up to see your face with a mixed expression of shock and confusion.

“Honey, what are you doing?” You gasped, momentarily worried that you would fall back against the tree until you realised that Kakyoin was both too strong and reliable for that. Still, you were perplexed as to why he had picked you up.

“Well, you are my star, so it’s fitting if we put you up there.”

Kakyoin gave you the sweetest look, eyes soft with love while you stared back with wide eyes and heart skipping a beat. “Noriaki... You’re so lame.~”

Your husband then gasped at that, letting you down and mocking a look of hurt. “How could you? After I gave you all my love in one sentence!” His uncharacteristic offence over your words made you giggle and led you to give him a sweet kiss, which quickly made up for your insult.

“Come on you big cherry baby, we got a star to put up.”

“‘Big cherry baby’ ? Really?”

“You know it!”

Josuke Higashikata

It was your duty to decorate the school’s christmas tree this year, and luckily for you it wasn’t all that large either so a one man job was not impossible or too straining. You had even finished most of the tree by now, carefully plotting where to place the baubles so they were evenly spaced and wrapping around lights to make the whole thing stand out was much easier than one would have thought. The emotional reward was amazing too, knowing that you had taken up a job everyone else complained about it and refused was pretty gratifying.

Taking a step back from the tree, you admired your handy work. None of the lights were turned on but even so the tree looked immaculate! You had even hand made a couple of decorations with the help of Koichi and Rohan before hand to add to your own trees at home, so you used the spares to add a fresh look on the school’s old, reusable tree that apparently always looked the same according to the older years. Honestly if you weren’t commended publicly in the next school assembly, you would have to complain. Well, you wouldn’t because that would be pompous and bit too much effort, but you knew you deserved at least some praise from the staff who should really be the ones doing all the work.

Still, there was something off about the tree, as though you had forgotten something...

Ah, the star!

How could you forget the most important and noticeable thing of all? You knocked your knuckles onto the top of your head for being so mindless before moving over to a couple of boxes, rummaging through a few until you found the gold painted star, the sides perfectly coated with silver glitter to make the whole thing pop. “There we go, now if I’m not mistaken you belong up there, Mr Star,” you giggle, mumbling to yourself in the most dorkiest way that you were glad no one was in the immediate vicinity to overhear you.

The tree may not have been colossal however it wasn’t easy to reach the top, so a teacher had given you a stool to stand upon when need be, not that you trusted it to support you whole heartedly. Stepping onto the stool, you balanced on your tiptoes to help you lean up and place the star on the top of the tree, something that was proving to be more difficult than you had expected. “Just a little further,” you urged yourself on, trying your best to reach.

You really should have expected that things were going too perfectly as a sudden crack was heard, and if you had to guess, it was from the leg of the stool.

Sucking in a harsh breath, you felt the weight of both you and the stool give out, sending you falling backwards with the star hugged close to your chest to keep it from breaking. Your priorities really weren’t in order.

As all good stories go, the pain of your back hitting the floor had never came and instead you felt firm yet comfortable arms wrap around your body. Your eyes were squeezed shut from fear of the impact, your lids remaining closed even when your were caught as a part of you assumed you just hadn’t hit the ground yet, even though the fall wasn’t nearly as long as you made it out to be in your head. You only finally opened your eyes when you heard a warm, friendly voice say, “hey, you know I caught you right? You can open your eyes!”

You peaked from under your eye lids to see the familiar face of Josuke, a wide grin on his face like he was proud that he had caught you just in the nick of time, and his whole face was lit up like a Christmas tree. Speaking of actually.

“Ah, thank you so much Josuke!” You hugged him as best as you could while being held in a bridal style and holding onto the star, pressing your cheek against his to which his own turned pink slightly, a laugh escaping him. It really was a good thing he had caught you or else who knows what could have happened? If the star broke the school staff would sure be against you.

“It’s no problem, I’m glad I came to see how you were doing now! Guess you could say I’m your knight in shining armour,” Josuke teased, making you laugh along with him. It was clear that no matter what, he really had a gift for making you ten times happier than before. “I guess I can,” you responded, looking over to the now broken and fallen stool, trailing your eyes up to the top of the tree and groaning. “That’s just great, there’s no way I can put the star up now!”

Your distressed tone made Josuke frown a little. He didn’t really see why it would be such a big deal, especially when it was the staff’s fault for giving you a stool with rotting wood legs and it wasn’t like it should be your job to decorate the tree. Lazy bastards.

Then, he had an idea. He placed you down onto the floor to which you thanked him for until you yelped out in surprise. With a mischievous sounding chuckle, Josuke’s hands grabbed your hips from behind and he squatted down. You turned your head to give him a questioning look and only got a wink in return, your body suddenly being hoisted up up so that you were sitting on Josuke’s shoulders, a leg on either side of his head. “J-Josuke! What are you doing?!”

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious [F/N]? I’m helping you put the star up on the tree,” he replied, his words coming out much smoother than they usually did, almost as though he was flirting with you. You flustered a little at the thought though you were unsure why, he was just helping you out! It wasn’t like he was insinuating anything or even praising you after all.

Once again, you meekly thanked him and gripped the base of the star, slotting the hole underneath it onto the top spike of the pine tree with caution, praying that nothing broke or that you made him uncomfortable by having to lean forwards. “There! The job is done and I don’t have to spend a second longer on this tree,” you proudly declared, expecting some sort of congratulations from the highschooler beneath you. After a long pause, you spoke again, “uh, you can put me down now Josuke.”

“Hm? Oh sorry, I thought we weren’t done yet, since y’know, you’re the star here.” He said, his flirty tone returning with a hint of comedy in it, probably because he couldn’t even take himself seriously in the currenr situation.

You almost choked at his words, heat rushing to your cheeks and you whacked the pompadour that blocked your ability to see his face. “Josuke, that was so cheesy! Just put me down already and help me clean up!”

“Ok, ok, whatever you say lil’ star,” he teased, crouching down to let you jump off his shoulders and giving you a side hug afterwards. “You have to admit though, that was pretty smooth.”

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him with a smile before pushing him away towards the pile of empty boxes that once hosted the large amount of decorations you used, “yeah sure, whatever you say Casanova, let’s just get to work.”