#not outright !!! but in the same way that matches his but is still so honest and purely /reader/ and !!

[seiwas]

the comments/tags on the recent col fic are so so sweet and so lovely 🥺 aaah thank you so much everyone 🥹 i’m so happy you love the col couple as much as i do!! 🫶🏻

[mayajadewrites]

suguru geto x fem reader: lucky

roommates to lovers–friends to lovers–slow burn

story synopsis: Suguru Geto is your best friend and roommate. After a year of living together, there have been more than one opportunity to throw away your friendship. The question is, would you get lucky as fall in love for the rest of your days?

ao3

CHAPTER FIVE

slight smut ahead hehe

🎧🌙🧺📖🕯️🧸🤍

"Pssssst." Shoko poked you with her pen as she made her way to the coffee machine. "How was your date?"

It's Thursday – you've been working all week and haven't had much time to chat with Shoko about your date with Choso.

"It was great. We're going out tomorrow, actually." You smile to yourself as you stir your creamer into your coffee.

You, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko, Satoru, and Choso work in the same office building, but not within the same office. You work in the same office as Nanami and Haibara, which is quiet compared to what Shoko has to deal with with Satoru.

"Yay!! Every time I asked Choso he blushed so I assumed it went well. Aren't you glad I decided to become a match maker?" Shoko pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket.

"I thought you were going to quit." You looked at Shoko with pleading eyes.

"I said I would think about it." Shoko waved goodbye as she made her way outside for her smoke break.

Surprisingly, you haven't seen Choso while you work. To be honest, you didn't want to. You would prefer to be excited when you see him for dates, not assuming you'll see him at work.

Bzzzzzz.

Suguru: I left work early, I have a fever so I'm laying low for the rest of the week. Just incase you're wondering why I'm not hanging out outside my bed.

You frown at the text, your instincts kicking in to take care of Suguru. You wanted to make him soup, make sure his bed is comfortable, give him his medicine – all of it.

You hold yourself back from leaving your own job early. You only have a few hours left before it's time to clock out, you can survive.

You: Okay, I'll make sure to bother you.

Suguru: I was hoping you would play nurse.

A ball of anxiety forms in your stomach as you re-read Suguru's text. The flirty undertones are starting to be a little too much for you since Suguru will not outright say what he's feeling for you.

But you love being flirty.

You: Let me make sure my uniform still fits.

Suguru: I'm not sure your ass fits in that skirt anymore, but I prefer it that way.

You push your phone in your pocket and bring your 2nd coffee of the day to your desk. You cheeks were now a shade of red as you thought about Suguru's texts. Was he acting like this because he's sick? Obviously he's not himself.

You finish up your work for the day and head to the supermarket to pick up ingredients for chicken noodle soup. You also grab Suguru's favorite ice cream, ginger ale, and crackers.

When you arrive home, you knew Suguru would be in his room. His door was open though, which is odd for him. You set the reusable bags down on the counter and make your way to Suguru's room.

He's laying in his bed with his eyes closed, his hair up in a bun with a piece of hair framing his face. He's shirtless, presumably because he's burning up. You watch his throat as his Adam's apple bobs.

You put the back of your hand on his forehead, only for his hand to meet yours. "What a sight to wake up to." He said quietly.

"Your head is warm enough to burn my hand." You bring your hand back to your body, his hand going back on his forehead.

"Really? I didn't know. I just feel like my entire body is the temperature which I assume is of hell." Sarcasm left his lips.

"I'm making you chicken noodle soup. I also got you some snacks and ginger ale."

"Did you remember the nurse outfit?" Suguru smirked before coughing.

"My thighs pop out of the tights, so it's a no go." You laugh, standing up to leave his room.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Suguru laughs quietly, bringing the covers over his body.

"I'll let you know when the soup is done." You leave Suguru's room to go into yours to change into comfy clothes. You slip on a pair of leggings and an oversized crewneck from your university.

The smells of the spices flood your nostrils as you stir the broth for the soup. Suguru likes his soup a bit more salty, and he loves broth, so you made sure it was up to his standards.

You thought about how helpless he looked when he was in bed. He wasn't the strong Suguru that is your best friend and roommate, he's needy.

You bring a tray to Suguru's room, setting it up with a spoon and a cup for water. Suguru sat up slowly as you set this up for him, his eyes barely opening.

You brought his soup to him, a smiling forming on his face. "I can barely smell, but I know this is my favorite soup." Suguru grabbed his spoon, dipping it in the broth. You watched as his lips formed an 'o', blowing lightly on the spoon. "Sit with me."

You listen, sitting next to him on his bed. Suguru's bed is more than comfy. Your body sinks into it in the best way. Suguru turns on his TV, finding a streaming service and putting on a romcom.

"Since when did you watch romcoms?" You look at Suguru, surprised.

"I don't. But you do, and you're taking care of me." Suguru sipped his soup, leaning back on his pillows.

As you watch the movie with Suguru, your mind daydreams of a life with Suguru. A romantic one.

You would wake up next to him, attaching your lips to his to wake him up. He would hold your face in his large hands, deepening the kiss with his tongue.

Stop it.

You snap out of your daydream to look at Suguru, who's eyes were glued on the TV. You watched as his brown eyes followed the characters, his mouth curving into a smile when the main character said something funny.

"Thank you for the soup. It was perfect."

"Let me clean this up and I'll be out of your hair." You grab the tray, heading for the door.

"Please stay."

Did you hear that right?

"What?" You whip your head around a little too fast.

"I said, please stay." Suguru coughed.

You sigh, bringing the bowl and tray to the kitchen. You pause before turning around to go to Suguru's room. What about Choso.

It's not like he's your boyfriend.

Suguru isn't your boyfriend either.

You bring yourself back to his room, his arm open, making a spot for you.

"I'm sure I'll just make you feel more uncomfortable than you already do. You're heating up."

"Can you stop making excuses. If you think it'll be too hot, then change into less clothes." Suguru groaned, a cough escaping his throat.

You slip into your room to change into a lowcut tank top and sweatshorts, your breath hitching when you look at Suguru again.

Your body mends with his as you join him in bed. His muscular arm wraps around your waist while his face makes a home in between your neck and shoulder.

You tense a bit, goosebumps forming along your skin. Suguru's arm trails down to your thighs, squeezing them gently. You bring your eyes to his, and you're both silent. Suguru's eyes are exploring your expression, trying to read what you're feeling.

He was testing your limits. Would you let him touch your thigh? Would you let him grab your tits? Would you let him kiss you?

The answer to all of those questions is yes. But it shouldn't happen.

You feel Suguru's lips attach to your neck, going from sucking to biting every few seconds. You let out a moan, arching your back slightly.

Suguru's large hands find your chest as he's sucking on your neck, squeezing your breast over your bra. He sneaks his hand under your bra, pinching your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

You shouldn't be doing this.

Especially when he's sick.

"Suguru, I –"

"Tell me you don't want this." Suguru looked at you as his lips left your neck. "Tell me you don't feel the same."

[theprettynosferatu]

Author's note: this story is perhaps not what you expect to read here. I would humbly ask that you read it anyway. It was commissioned for a purpose beyond kink, and I sincerely hope it illustrates an often unseen struggle many deal with.

The isolation was the worst part. Of course, to most people it was invisible and certainly in no way worse than the constant, inevitable loss of mobility and autonomy the illness had provoked and would continue worsening; that was all painful indeed but in the end the loneliness hurt in a different way. The disease was degenerative, and he had come to terms with that somehow. It was an inevitability. That sort of barrier others put up… that wasn’t unavoidable. That was a choice they made. 

It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for those around him. They helped him with the things he couldn’t do, which were sadly a growing list, and they tried not to let that particular mixture of annoyance and pity show through their politeness, but he could feel it nonetheless. It wasn’t too much to ask, he felt, to be seen as a person rather than an inventory of symptoms. To be truly listened to. To be accepted as a man, with all the needs any human had.

Who could he speak to? Not his family, that was for sure. And it wasn’t as if he could go to bars or casually peruse Tinder. Even if he wanted to lie to someone, which he didn’t, the truth would be evident as soon as they saw him. He had tried being honest, being upfront about his illness, and that had shown him a new kind of solitude. People simply didn’t want to deal with the realities of someone with his condition, and the few that had matched with him only seemed to be morbidly curious or obvious scammers. He wasn’t too proud to admit that, in his desperation, he had fallen for a catfish once. It was humiliating, but he felt it spoke more about the others in the world than himself. He didn’t choose to be ill; they chose to take advantage of him. Of course, all the moral superiority in the world didn’t make the lies hurt any less.

It felt like stones on his chest, slowly crushing him. Every rejection added another one, some small, some large, the addition gradually pushing him down deeper and deeper. For some reason, sex workers hurt the most of all. It was, by nature, a transactional relationship. He wasn’t asking for a lifelong companion, for love, for anything other than what everyone else hired a sex worker for; and still not one had dared to take him on as a client. Some turned him down outright; some took the booking fee and never showed up. The first group he couldn’t bring himself to really hate. They were scared, unsure of what to do or how to do it, not willing to take on a job that would be, for them, new and unexplored; not when they could make the same money spending that time with their usual, almost rote services. It was understandable. It hurt, but he could see where they came from. 

He still tried. In his mind, only a sex worker could give him at least a moment of intimacy, the contact most people took for granted and often appreciated so little. Even looking online for them was a huge effort. His hands had lost the needed precision to tap on a phone or type on a keyboard, and so he had to use a mouse and a virtual keyboard to, letter by letter, write any questions or searches. What most did without thinking, while chatting away with their friends, was something he had to put all his energy into. He looked at the girls in the escort site not allowing himself to get overly excited about any of them in particular. Eventually he decided to try with a beautiful sex worker. She had copper hair with a bright blue streak, a nose ring and tattoos. She was certainly sexy, but it wasn’t her figure what called to him: it was her eyes. They had a certain kindness and joy to them, at least in her pictures. He didn’t expect much: he was far too experienced to get excited. But he had to try.

He pasted his introduction text. It was a long one, and it had taken him hours and hours to type with a mouse, correct it, make sure it was completely honest, thorough, direct and clear. He wasn’t sure he would be able to write something like that again, emotionally. So he kept it in a file, and copied it whenever he tried to hire a sex worker. Most didn’t reply. This girl, Melissa, did.

It was rather strange. She seemed cheery and polite, and her only questions had to do with his availability, where they would meet, what time was good for him. Not one mention of the illness so detailed in his text, not one question about his body. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, and he half expected her to hit him with a request for a booking fee. Instead, she simply promised to show up in two days. No fee, no deposit. Nothing. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Had she not read the text? In any case, he tried not to get his hopes up. Sure, he would be ready at the appointed date, but he wouldn’t count on her presence.  

When the day came, he tried to keep his excitement in check, to lessen potential disappointment. It was a bit terrible that he had learned to dampen good emotions to protect himself, but it was the natural result of his experiences. In a way, he was more prepared for her absence than her presence, and so when she was let into the room, he struggled for a moment, as if the universe had somehow malfunctioned and now he had to deal with a being from some other, better reality.

She didn’t quite look like the photographs. Oh, she did have beautiful eyes, a long slender neck, a sexy nose ring and breasts that her t-shirt couldn’t hide; what the picture didn’t show, could not have shown, was her expression of sheer… joy. She looked at him, and for the first time in a long time he felt… seen. Seen as he was. She wasn’t looking around him or through him, she wasn’t seeing just the illness, she wasn’t measuring her response or trying to hide pity or fear. She was simply… smiling at him. Part of him wanted to cry, just for a moment, and somehow he was sure she wouldn’t think any less of him if he did. She left her bag on a chair, making herself perfectly at home.

“Hi! I’m Melissa! Nice to meet you!”

Nice to meet you. As normal a greeting as they came, and yet… not a hint of artifice, no rehearsed tone. For her it was, indeed, nice to meet him. He mumbled a greeting of his own, although he couldn’t be quite sure what it was. He was flustered, which wasn’t an emotion he had prepared for. She walked to him and asked a simple, sincere question.

“May I hug you?”

“Uhm… sure”

“Thank you!”

The first thing he noticed was the smell. She wasn’t soaked in perfume. She just smelled nice, in a very simple, human way. It was a strange thing, almost like a subtle, powerful intimacy that needed no words, no explanation. It was primal and basic and almost overwhelming. Then he registered the warmth, the closeness. For a moment the room faded away into nothingness, and in a way so did he. It was lightness and safety and he drifted away into that embrace that told him more than a million words could. It told him he was cared for, he was appreciated, he was valued. It made “I” feel far away, replaced by a silent “us”, if only for a while.

He needed a moment to regroup. She didn’t mind waiting. 

“So… the money is on the table”

She seemed surprised, as if she had forgotten her own profession.

“Oh! Thank you. I don’t charge for hugs, though”, she winked. “I’m just… a hugger, you know? But I’m guessing you want to get to the fun things I do charge for”, she smiled devilishly. “You might need to guide me a little bit so I can make this as… memorable as I can. In any case, I’m going to go ahead and assume you don’t want to just see me in my jeans and t-shirt, am I right?”

“Uh, well, you can change in the bathroom…”

“I could if you prefer. But you’d be missing out! I did practice my… well, reveal, quite a bit”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I… nevermind, please, go ahead”

Melissa smiled, truly happy about being able to share a bit of well-rehearsed strip-teasing. Her body moved with enticing grace, and her playful eyes kept his gaze fixed on her, on her skin, on her every curve. She teased and provoked with the easy mastery of the truly talented, and he wondered for a moment if she had been a dancer in another life. Soon the T-shirt and jeans were gone, replaced by a silk three-piece lingerie set, its black fabric hugging her body tight, the contrast between light and dark, seen and unseen heightening her allure. And he had to admit to himself that as good as her breasts looked covered up, the bra revealed a size he had not imagined. Everything about her called to him, wanted him, needed him. Except… he didn’t quite know what to do, or how to express… what? What was it he wanted? He wasn’t sure he could put it into words anymore. It was about sex, and it wasn’t. It was sex and… something more, beyond language.

Luckily, she came to him and kissed his cheek playfully. Her breath on his ear sent a shiver down his spine and he wished he could just… leap up and hold her, take her… 

“Hey. Relax. You tell me how you want this to go, and you can tell me if I’m doing things right for you, okay? We’ll take it at your pace”

There wasn’t a hint of pity in her voice. It was a simple, practical matter: she wanted to please him, and would do whatever he felt he needed. Before he could speak, her lips were kissing his chest, undoing his shirt. The warmth of her lips, her hands, her breasts on his skin was enough to make him desperately aroused and… strangely at peace. She made him feel safe. Seen. Desired.

“Oh, looks like someone here likes my moves!” she teased, brushing her hand against the fabric that covered his now stiff cock. Normally an erection was something that took him a bit of time to achieve, but it didn’t seem to be a problem at that moment. Perhaps it was that she was blowing away years of fear and overthinking and pain with simple kisses and caresses, with smiles and playfulness that created a bubble away from the world, a place where nothing existed but the two of them, their bodies, their wants.

“I think I should kiss it”, she winked. He could only nod in agreement.

He wasn’t sure how he expected it to feel, but he couldn’t have imagined the wonderful sensations coursing through his body. It wasn’t like masturbation, which was his one frame of reference: not having control over where she kissed, she licked, how much pressure she put on it… every moment was a surprise, a brand new feeling that electrified him, reverberating all over until it even felt like a tickle on the roof of his mouth. He could hear her softly moaning, and she made sure to move and give him a smile every now and then, making sure the experience was what he wanted… and gauging how close he might be getting to cumming. They had agreed beforehand on the services to be rendered, and she wasn’t about to shortchange him.

“I see you liked that! Well, are you ready to feel even better?”

A small “yes” barely escaped his throat. 

“Good”, she smiled. “Because I’m soaking wet and I need a little bit of… relief. And I think you could use some as well”

He felt like the room was spinning. She had taken off the lingerie at some point, although he couldn’t say exactly when, and now she was climbing carefully on top of him. She was so warm and soft and he wondered how a person could just… feel so different on his skin than anything else in the world. There was a strange form of contact, a communication without words, a deep sense of togetherness expressed in caresses and kisses and subtle movements. Her hazel eyes met his, and he didn’t need to tell her he was ready. She knew. She reached down to put his cock in position and slowly he felt a great warmth wrapping him, a gentle tightness. Her moans filled the air around them as she slowly, deliberately started to move: not because she was being careful or seeing him as fragile, but because it was simply the way she liked it.

It was a revelation of sorts. For so long, his body had been the source of pain and anguish and stress and despair. Yet then, for a moment, his body was transformed into something else. An object of pleasure, that could sense it and provoke it at once, that could, with her, turn into more than it had ever been. No, that wasn’t quite right. His body hadn’t changed. His perception of it had.

He had imagined his attention would be on his penis, and yet now that the moment had come he couldn’t just focus on one part of his body. It was all one: her hands on his chest, her kisses on his neck, her skin on his, a sonata of sensation and intimacy and movement and shared whimpers and moans.

It happened suddenly. It came from somewhere deep, a sensation building in his shaft, his muscles tensing up in a way he had never felt before. For a moment he felt as if his breath was taken away. The world stopped for a second. Then it exploded.

It was as if his entire body was one sensitive, beautiful object of pleasure… and so was hers. They trembled together and he thought he could hear her scream, although he couldn’t be sure. It was a wonderful overload, one that ended with her resting her head on his chest, panting.

“Sorry! I get a bit… loud sometimes. I hope I don’t get you in trouble!”

“I… I don’t think… Sorry, I’m just a bit…”

“It’s okay. Want me to stay here a while longer?”

“Yes, please”

So she stayed. Of course, eventually she had to leave, for all things must come to an end. And yet it was an end that wasn’t, for she had given him a seed of something new, a memory and a door. There was a world to explore, and he knew she would help him explore it. 

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[megaboy335]

10 Years of My Hero Academia

I have been an avid reader of Weekly Shonen Jump manga since I was a child, and later started following the magazine closely since around 2009. In that time I've witnessed countless titles start and finish. My Hero Academia is the rare kind of series that connects us from the previous generation of the magazine to its current era. It started in Issue 32, 2014 and finished in Issue 36-37, 2024. That makes it the 2nd oldest series in the line-up at the time of ending. Below is my review of the series. I give my thoughts on several of the story moments and give my final impressions. There will be spoilers and it's a long discussion.

Let's first flashback to the summer of 2014. I was in college preparing to spend my Junior year abroad in Japan. My Tumblr was very active and about to reach new highs with my presence in the Nisekoi fandom. In the Weekly Shonen Jump world, a generational shift was about to occur with the new debut of a new battle manga from a previously 2 time canceled author, Kohei Horikoshi.

Looking back on the issue when My Hero Academia started, we can clearly see how it was a completely different era of Jump. Naruto was still running at chapter 683. That is near the end of the 4th Great Ninja War arc. Naruto would later finish that fall in Issue 50, 2014. Additionally, Kuroko was just a couple of issues away from wrapping up and cementing itself as one of the best sport manga Jump had seen in a decade. One Piece was in the middle of Dressrosa, where little did we know that chapter 752 would only put us halfway through the arc. Gintama was just about to make a major pivot into full time battle manga mode. This issue also saw the conclusion of iShoujo at 20 chapters. (It would later get rebooted on Jump+ as a launch title and run for 14 volumes). It's very clear how My Hero Academia started in a complete era than where are now. So, how was My Hero Academia in the early days? Well, quite honestly I thought it was a very middle of the road title. I was already familiar with Horikoshi through Barrage (the very first simlpub in the digital Jump era that Viz started from chapter 1). He always had a good sense of perspective and the way he draws mouths with depth is a distinctive feature. The series also wore its Naruto inspirations quite openly, while taking advantage of the popularity in superhero movies to add some visibility in the eyes of readers. I thought it was riding the coattails of current trends. The early chapters were standard fare in modern day shonen. Speeding through character introductions and establishing the setting. Shigaraki made an early appearance with the mob baddies called Nomus but it was hard to get invested in the central conflict so soon. However Shigaraki’s eerie design of being covered in hands certainly stood out at the time. I was curious but not necessarily invested right away. (of course in retrospective its clear how Horikoshi used the early events as building blocks for what was to come later)

But you know what sways me the most: Tournament Arcs! This Sports Festival tournament was where I finally started feeling invested in the series. In part because tournament arcs provide an easy to use template for establishing character relationships, create unexpected match ups, ground character arc trajectories, and provide payoffs if used later in the story. The big plot point introduced in this arc was the #2 Hero Endeavor and the relationship with his son, Todoroki. If All Might is the honest public face hero, then Endeavor is the power obsessed guy. He destroyed his family and took extreme measures to produce a child that can beat All Might. Todoroki's story begins with him outright rejecting his father. However, this changed during a fight with Deku. Deku and Todoroki are both foils and yet mirrors of each other at the same time. They were both blessed with powers that were not obtained naturally. Deku was given a quirk on the spur of the moment from All Might. Todoroki was given his abilities in service of someone else’s goals. One accepts their reality and the other does not. Deku showed that Todoroki accepting the power is not the same as acting in father's wishes. He should use the powers gifted to him in whatever ways he sees fit. This moment comes with the first end of chapter title drop and the moment when Horikoshi’s writing clicked into place for me. The scene when Todoroki uses his flames for the first time is powerful because I loved how they were depicted coming out so naturally. These flames are a part of himself and always have been. Todoroki has at last accepted that side of himself going forward.

After the tournament, it shifts into a short arc with the Killer Hero Stain. He brings up the idea that Heroes should be more than symbols for people to worship, and instead Heroes should practice what they preach. He sees All Might as the only authentic hero to follow. This is the first time we see a villain figure making a valid point that pins down one of the faults to hero society. Stains describes how everyone is doing it for fun, out of obligation, or for making money. All Might is someone whose confidence is so strong that his hero persona and outward personality are one in the same. Sadly this arc was too short to fully explore the idea, but it would come up again later. Jumping ahead, the series quickly reached its first major story climax: All Might vs. One For All. I went into this fight thinking All Might was going to die and was very surprised when he didn't. The master passing the torch to his student through a death scene is such a common trope (which yes, it made me even more surprised how All Might survived the entire story). I was on the edge of my seat when reading this weekly and consider it a high point of the series. This fight ended up marking the beginning of the end to the Hero Society. All Might's retirement shakes the very foundation of the Hero world. Who can possibly replace someone who inspires people from all walks of life? From this point on, Deku and Shigaraki are now  walking similar paths as the heirs to this conflict. The following arcs saw the league of villains poking at the cracks and expanding the seeds of distrust.

When manga serializations are constantly one-upping itself on story climaxes, it can be hard to return to any semblance of a daily life in the aftermath of major moments. This middle section of the manga from about volume 12 to 24 is a boring stretch of the series. First getting the provisional licenses felt unnecessary in the grand scheme since there's really nothing stopping them from fighting the bad guys other than technical loopholes in the writing. Then the Shie Hassaikai arc was almost like canon filler to me.  It amounted to very little at the time and came off like a side quest. (This arc also marks the beginning of frequent breaks). Afterwards the U.A. school festival was a refreshing turn back into school life but still, Gentle isn't the fodder we need to see. Lastly, the worst offender of this stretch by far was the class A vs. B matches. A tournament style arc just for show. No stakes. Nothing of consequence.  It basically paused the story for about 2 volumes. Thankfully Horikoshi would resume the plot right afterwards with a bang.

My Villain Academia is exactly what the story needed to get itself back together. The League of Villains seemed like they were supposed to be foils for class A-1 and yet any comparable character development just wasn’t happening. This was finally going to change. This arc focused exclusively on the villains and each member would get a quirk power up, while Shigaraki received the rampaging ally Gigantomachia. We also have the Tenko: Origin chapter to put his past into perspective. While I still have issues with the villain writing, it felt like the villains could finally stand on their own in the story.

The momentum continued into the Paranormal Liberation War. An all-out fight between the heroes and villains at their peak across multiple areas of Japan. The countdown to Mirko stopping Shigaraki from reaching his true form was thrilling. Then came the first real clash between Deku and Shigaraki. However, the star of the show for this arc was undoubtedly Dabi who effectively canceled Endeavor’s entire career. Dabi exposed the past of Endeavor by explaining his own story. He showed that Heroes put up a public positive face to hide their power hungry desires motivating them behind the scenes. This makes Heroes no different from villains in many regards. These words brought an end to Hero society as we knew it. The public was already feeling uneasy after the retirement of All Might, and signaling out Endeavors’s past showed how the system was built on an image, not human understanding. Japan was left in ruins, numerous convicted villains were released back into the wild, and the people have nobody they can trust.

I consider the spread page above to be my favorite from the entire series. Horikoshi’s art reached new highs throughout the Paranormal Liberation War arc. His ability to depict Shigaraki as a real force of nature against the Heroes was crazy good. You could really feel the impact behind every attack on each individual and the surrounding environment. Shigaraki ability is something that alters landscapes wherever he goes.

The final stretch of the story begins with Deku acting like a vigilante. Hero Society at-large has hit its lowest point where the institution of Heroes who maintain public safety is no more. The public is scared for their life. Heroes have largely abandoned their post. One for All and the strongest villains are on the loose, and Deku has been completely worn down by the burden of his role. His mind has entered the idea that only he alone can fix this. The Lady Nagant storyline was awesome. She is someone who had to adapt to survive in these precilous times. A hero and a villian is only matter of perspective after all. Sometimes people will do what they need to in order to survive. If even our main character can be swayed then where is the line hero and villain?

The Dark Deku arc is when Deku is stripped down to his core convictions: the desire to protect his friends and defeat One for All. However it's the very friends that he was trying to push away, who ultimately reached out the hand to save him. Deku has touched each of their lives in ways he can't even begin to imagine. Now it was time for them to return the favor. This brings the story to a touching scene where Uraraka yells to an audience of scared citizens to remind them how Heroes are people too and Deku is one of them. This section is my favorite part of the entire story. It felt like everything had changed. We didn't know where the story was going next nor where to begin tackling the awful state of the world. Everything was so raw. It was an exciting time to be reading weekly.

After reaching a new series high, we drop down to one of its lowest points in my opinion. Star & Stripe vs. Shigaraki was an absolute shame. There should have been a study abroad arc so Deku could meet and experience heroes around the world. So when the Number One American hero is introduced, with death flags, I was skeptical about why. I don't like when characters are introduced just to die immediately. The whole point was to artificially weaken Shigaraki so the heroes would stand a chance in the upcoming final battle. Similarly, I would have liked the traitor reveal if it had been more important throughout the story. Barely came up after the training camp arc in volume 9. It came off like Hoirkoshi just needed to check off that box to appease readers before entering the final battle. But, finally seeing Hagakure’s face was a very nice reward. Despite the stumbles to set up the final battle, I thought it was incredible. One of the best in recent memory from Jump. A fight with the future of Japan on the line across numerous locations. In shonen manga style, it pulled in every single character from throughout the series, used all the mobs to their fullest, and pitted villains vs. their foil villain character. Iit definitely checked off all the boxes of what you need for a grand finale to a long running battle shonen. I think Dabi and Todoroki got the thematic ending it needed. Spinner could have used a little more focus. Himeko and Uraraka reached an understanding at the very end that was probably the safe end for their storyline. I loved seeing the floating stage slowly descend to the surface as the climax approached, while the fighting began to center around Deku and Bakugo. Horikoshi once again reached new artistic highs I couldn’t even imagine throughout the final battle. I like to think the frequent breaks allowed him to pace it better than you typically find in Jump manga final arcs.

As the series comes to close, I am left very pleased with where character arcs ended up. Deku is someone who had to grow up almost overnight. From a quirkless boy to saving all of Japan in the span of a year. He has something that All Might lacked. The spirit to never give up on leading a hand to someone in need. If All Might presented himself with confident bravado, then Deku was the honest human type. Shigaraki is someone who was beyond saving, and yet even if for a moment, Deku wanted to give the respect he deserved as a person. Deku losing his powers cements the story as being about a moment in his life. That he never took the powers he was blessed with for granted, and used them to the fullest throughout the story. I appreciated that Horikoshi made no effort to justify the villain's actions (besides partly Himeko). They are a product of unfortunate circumstances and deliberate choices which brought them to this point. Their actions speak for themselves. This applies to the heroes as well. Endeavor is a complex man with a storyline that reads more mature than you'd expect at first glance. He is a man who drove his family to ruin for the sake of strength, and those choices came back to haunt him in the form of Dabi and Todoroki. He's effectively lost everything. I think Horikoshi stuck the landing by giving readers the final judgment if he should be redeemed or not. The family members were left mixed, and Endeavor is prepared to rebuild from nothing. Shigaraki’s death is best for the sake of tying a bow on the story. Deku indirectly caused it, but he doesn’t beat himself over it that much. The world is the same as it was before the conflict. Heroes will remain in people’s lives. The systemic issues of a Hero society that sells certain images of people and casts aside those who don’t fit will persist. Another person or organization like the league of villains could easily rise up again in the future. However, Horikoshi presents a simple solution. Leading a hand to each other is a good starting point towards making the world a better place. Happiness can spread from person to another, and lead to a better understanding of those we don't know. It takes collective action to make the world a better place for everyone and that can begin with a single person.

So overall, what do I think of My Hero Academia? Ending at 430 chapters is an incredible run for a weekly manga in this current era. Horikoshi covered a lot of characters and topics, many of which I still didn’t cover at this post. I think the series has some of the strongest battle manga highs we’ve seen in the past decade, and of course some parts could have been better. I take issue with pacing and writing choices at times. The villains collectively speaking were the weakest aspect, but the genuine passion for Heroes shines through in every aspect of this work. He used that as a lens to look at problems of the world. Naruto is very optimistic with how communication is the key to bridging differences. My Hero Academia in comparison says that is only a piece of the puzzle. Everyone needs to make a conscious choice to reach out to others. We all can be a hero to someone out there. My Hero Academia will be remembered as the generation-defining Jump series of the past 10 years, In the same way its beginning overlaps late Naruto, perhaps in the future, Kagurabachi fans will remember how it started at the end of My Hero Academia’s run. My Hero Academia will finish as the 9th longest series ever in the history of Weekly Shonen Jump. This is a position it will hold long into the future. I don’t expect anything in the current line-up to come close in length. I've considered Horikoshi to be the best artist in the magazine for the past several years. He always kept improving right up to the end with insanely detailed panels and spread pages. His presence in the magazine will be missed. Thank you Kohei Horikoshi. It's been a long ride. I'm glad you could finally cross the finish line. I look forward to whatever you might do next in the future!

[ma1dmer]

League of Legends - Darius NSFW

noxus forever or whatever, slay

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): He allows himself to relax, you can visibly see the tension leave his body as he rolls his shoulders and helps you clean up, the moment you are the most relaxed and close to sleep he'll press a quick kiss to your neck and go shower.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): Doubt Darius cares much to think about that, he knows he is a strong man with a nice body, but picking something specific, it doesn't even cross his mind he just cares that his body is in working order. If he was asked about his partner ,he'd probably say the same, how he doesn't fucking care as long as you can defend yourself, which is true, but he definitely notices some smaller things, the flex of your thighs when you ride him for example, or the way the muscles feel under his grip when he pushes your thighs over his forearms to push himself deeper.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): Darius would never outright say it but he likes messing you up, he'll pull out midway through his orgasm to get it on your stomach or back or simply to watch it drip out of you. He'll apologise gruffly but it happens a bit too often to be an accident.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): He spends so much time fighting, that it has definitely crossed his mind about taking you right after they've conquered a city, i also think that as different as he is to his brother, the thrill of battle still gets to him in a way. He'll eye the throne ,of a man that definitely was not worthy of wearing a crown, with disdain, and then he'll think of you, how he can't wait to get back to you, how he wishes you were with him right then and there to celebrate, how easily he could dismiss his soldiers and bend you over that throne and slide inside of you- he just really misses you.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): He has a couple of notches under his belt, but they are definitely countable on one hand, he is so busy and he definitely needs to trust someone a lot to be able to fully allow himself the ability to relax like that with them.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): Anything where he can simply, hold you, against him, over him, under him, just lay there and let him do the job, he'll switch between what he sees working for his partner and what works for him after they cum.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): He is more relaxed, but isn't ready to just laugh ,it breaks his concentration, might slap your ass and growl for you to focus, but won't chastise you if you laugh at something.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): Darius doesn't trim or shave, he is a soldier first and foremost ,he'll keep himself as clean as possible but he won't spend any more time on something so unecessary.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): He isn't particularly good with romance or romantic gestures, but he'll try, he'll let you lay back and give you a massage to relax after a long day and then he'll pull open your thighs and dive in.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): Too focused on his duty to focus on his dick, starts doing it more often after you start plaguing his thoughts though, which gets him more frustrated if he is being honest, he should be focusing on war strategies not the idea of fucking you over the Grand General’s desk.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): Darius is probably very very vanilla, can't see him trying anything extreme or unconventional.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): Away from possible prying eyes, he would rather not have you in a war camp, but if that's the only spot you two have he'll order any man around his tent to fuck off and carry you over his shoulder, his intentions, and why he should not be bothered very very clear.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): Strength, its cliche and oh so Noxian of him, but wether you are standing up for yourself verbally or slicing through an enemy with an axe ,Darius wants to see that fire behind your eyes.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Sharing, it doesn't even cross his mind because the moment its known that the Hand of Noxus is pursuing you nobody dares to even think of flirting with you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): Doesn't have much of a preference , doesn't prefer it over being actually inside of you, but won’t complain.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): He starts off slower with deep strokes , but the closer to his climax he gets the rougher he gets ,the moment you cum he'll tell you to hold on and finish himself off quickly.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): Depends heavily on his duty, if he is busy don't even think of bothering him, if he has time to spare though he'll let you know, so you can drop by and ride him until Swain asks for him or something.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): Surprisingly not a risk taker in his sex life, if something ain't broke why fix it by adding unecessary parts.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): You know his stamina is high, the Hand of Noxus has stamina for hours, and if his partner wants to be satisfied, who is he to not satisfy them.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): He does not really understand toys, but as long as you don't tell him about them he is okay with you using them when he is away, not necessarily for any pride related reasons, but because you are already such a distraction that he doesn’t want to think of you pleasing yourself on top of everything.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): Not a tease , he doesn't see the point of it, he isn't really about playing games, but if you absolutely must test his patience, he'll give it to you, he'll growl about everything you did to fucking annoy him and ask why must you always play these games with him while pushing your head down and his cock in. If it's his cock you wanted he'll make sure to give it to you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): He grunts and growls through his teeth , definitely throws his head back and curses lowly with that first slide in.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): He is definitely on the more vanilla side of things, but i can see him being easy to coax into something like primal play, pull him out to a forest and have him chase you. He'll catch you that's a guarantee but oh will he make your loss worth it.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): You know it's big, i know it's big, god knows its big, he is built like a brick house.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): He spends so much time on the battlefield and in war rooms that he forgets to care for himself, and especially those parts of himself. He wants to be with you, but Noxus comes first.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): He does not fall asleep until he is sure you are comfortable , he'll wait for you to be asleep before he can relax next to you.

[leonsliga]

I need to vent to someone so I hope it’s okay to send this to you. I made the mistake of reading some comments about yesterday’s game and saw lots of comments that I’m seeing often lately: people hating on Manu and Thomas (especially Manu after his mistakes yesterday), complaining they’re too old, useless, can’t do nothing, should just stop and even worse things. It makes me sad and mad to see this shit. People love to forget everything they’ve done for this club and the national team. And I think they’ve proven this season that they’re still capable of playing great football (I read somewhere that Thomas has one of the most scorer points from all players this season even though he didn’t play that much. Hello??!!) Everyone makes mistakes but apparently it’s forbidden for them.

I dread the day they are going to retire but to be completely honest when I see these things I almost wish they would have done so this year. Because I don’t think the hate is going to stop next season. And they absolutely don’t deserve this shit coming at them. They are legends and should be treated like that.

Any thoughts? (btw so sorry about this loooong ass ask, didn’t think it’s going to be this long 😬).

Hey anon! No worries! Sometimes you just need to vent, and that’s ok. You’re more than welcome to do so here 💜

I definitely feel your pain too. It’s hard to avoid reading people’s comments, even if we know the inevitable hate will be lurking around every corner there. I’ve said it before, but I feel like it’s still as true as ever: us fans are a fickle bunch, and unfortunately, not even club legends are spared abuse.

You asked for my thoughts, and if I’m honest, I feel the same way you do. Constructive criticism is one thing, but outright hate is another entirely. No one deserves hate comments, least of all Manu and Thomas, who, despite still playing for Bayern, are already veritable club legends. It can be easy for us to forget that in spite of how much money they may make, footballers are still human. Even Manu, who many—myself included—consider the best goalkeeper in the world, makes mistakes. The great Thomas Müller has off-days too. To be human is to be imperfect.

What bothers me the most is that all too often it’s the same people who complain that Manu and Thomas are finished one match that praise their incredible resilience in the next. They act as though they’re not the reason they have to be resilient in the first place. It breaks my heart too. Our memories can be so finite—even tremendous accomplishments can have a limited shelf life. Like you said, they’ve done so much for Bayern and the national team, gave us so many titles to remember them by, but when you play for a club as successful as ours, success becomes an expectation. A requirement. If you’re not playing at your absolute best every game, you’re not good enough. It’s cruel, but for some fans, it’s true.

This is especially unfair when you consider—as you already have—Manu and Thomas’s performances this season alone. Thomas amassing as many scorer points as he had this season is no small feat, especially considering how limited his playing time has been recently. And as for Manu, I think people forget that not too long ago, the man was literally learning how to walk again. He’s bailed us out so many times this season alone; I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that we would’ve finished a lot worse than 3rd in the Bundesliga without him.

I’m dreading the day they’ll inevitably retire too, especially knowing it’s on the horizon now. That said—and maybe it’s a bit selfish on my part—I’m kinda glad they didn’t retire this season. Not just because anything less than one last Meisterschale lift would feel like an inadequate sendoff, but also because, as much as I hate to say it, that hate has always been there, and it probably always will be. Thomas and Manu could be playing in their prime right now, and there would probably still be some vocal group of “fans” insisting they’re not good enough. Unfortunately, you really can’t please everyone, and nowhere is that more true than in football. Thomas and Manu are club legends and deserve praise for everything they’ve done, but some people will never give them that, and that’s why I’m glad Thomas and Manu have the thick skin they do. They could handle hate in the past, and they still can (not that they should have to, but I digress). I think my ultimate hope is that they retire when they’re ready, and don’t continue to push themselves beyond their limits for our sake. They’re still playing really well right now though, if this season is any indication. So I guess that means we’ll have to see what the future holds.

You don’t need to apologize for sending a longer ask btw; generally my responses are longer than the asks themselves because I just can’t help myself 🫶 you may think your asks are long, but I guarantee I’ll give you a run for your money 😂

[exagides]

public & private information on wikstrom

Public information

Wikstrom’s family used to serve the royal family of Kalos — these days, not so much. But they’re still very proud of that former position. Carrying on that legacy is very important to Wikstrom.

Wikstrom's family was one of the forces that helped protect and re-home many of those displaced by the ancient war. They're still known for their hospitality and welcome people in all the time.

He’s basically Diantha’s biggest cheerleader, especially during official Champion battles after his own defeat. He looks up to her as both his boss and as a person. They’re essentially family.

He raised his aegislash from a honedge, descended from the same line his family has been working with for generations. He’s very proud of that fact, and he’ll bring it up at any opportunity.

The way he talks isn’t just a bit. It’s just how he is. 

He runs a training ground for trainers who want to improve their relationship with their pokemon — he has other family and assistants to help when he’s not around, but it runs as both a day camp and a sleep-away camp for people who want to experience life in a castle.

Actually you can also just stay there without the training requirement. It’s a historic landmark for Kalos and he will happily talk about its history to anyone who asks.

The armor he wears is old. A family heirloom. And he doesn't wear it all the time — for any public appearances, absolutely. But it's an on-and-off thing for other times. His wardrobe ranges from medieval style garments to a few modern day things... Though he prefers the older styles.

Semi-public information

He does things for celebrations, festivals, faires, and re-enactments of Kalosian history. The only reason that people tend not to realize it’s Wikstrom is because he wears full armor with a visored helmet during such events.

His identity during such events isn't exactly hidden, but it's also not declared outright. He likes having the ambiguity to keep the playing field fair — an opponent knowing it's him may falter due to intimidation, and that's the last thing he wants. He uses a pseudonym during the events — The Burning Duke, named for both his rank in the Battle Chateau and the fact that his mount is a stocky old rapidash.  He wears a set of gold and red armor to match his mount.

He's Poppy’s cousin. ( Well — once removed. ) Again, he doesn't hide this fact, but he doesn't go around telling everyone. As proud as he is of her, he wants her to stand on her own rather than have his relation to her seem like the reason she's gotten so far at her age. 

Private information

Many of the honedge line his family takes care of are former family members. He’s well aware of this, but it’s not something the family necessarily talks about publicly. 

He had hesitation on chasing the Elite Four rank. He doesn’t let that show these days, but when he was younger he didn’t want to leave his family or the safety net he had with them. Going for a place in an official ranking position meant leaving that safety behind. 

I’ll be honest — Wikstrom doesn’t hide a lot. He’s very, very open about his history.

[honeydazai]

PLEASE IM ON MY KNEES- can we see the same prompt for Dazai and fyodor with your recent post but nsfw? PLEASE. IM DESPERATE TO SEE THIS

with a reader who's a crybaby

feat.: Dazai Osamu, Chūya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky

warnings: nsfw content; dacryphilia, vaginal sex, degradation, breeding kink, orgasm denial, hair pulling, oral sex, sadism, brat taming, spanking

DAZAI is quick to notice just how much of a cry baby you are when, one day, you start sobbing as he teases you a little and denies you your orgasm

and, honestly, he's enamoured with how pretty you are in that moment 😽

you look like something straight out of one of his wet dreams;

with your mascara smudged, dark streaks running down your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes

god

he's so weak for you

still a bit of a sadist, though

absolutely LOVES how sensitive and how honest your reactions are

will take advantage of those facts

he likes to pull on your hair only to hear you whimper 😢

Dazai also loves to mock you for being a crybaby

he's like

“Oh, belladonna, are you crying already? That's a little embarrassing, even for you. We've barely started.”

talks to you in a condescending tone a lot <3

and absolutely calls you “my pretty slut”

your crying actually turns him on;

watching you sob while you're grinding against his thigh in a desperate attempt to get off gets him so hard

HE'S OBSESSED WITH ALL THE LITTLE NOISES YOU MAKE

those high-pitched mewls and tiny hiccups you let out while you're trying not to cry as he edges you have his cock straining against his trousers

ALSO... he absolutely takes pictures of you while you're crying and fucked out 🧡

maybe even while you're choking on his dick, pretty lips closed around the girth of it

with you drooling, your eyes red and the tip of your nose flushed...

the messier you look, the better 👍🏻

might set those pictures as his phone's wallpaper 😳😳

“Look at you, bella - you're such a mess already, gagging on my cock. That's adorable. Is it too much for you, hm? Don't you worry, love, a pretty slut like you can take me all the way, I'm sure. Oh, and be a dear and make sure to look at the camera, yes?”

the first time CHŪYA notices how easy it is to make you cry is while you're having sex;

suddenly, there's tears dripping down your flushed cheeks

he's surprised - shocked even

but when you're quick to explain to him that he did nothing wrong and you just cry easily, especially because of pleasure...

he's intrigued 👀

Chūya takes this as a challenge.

if you're not sobbing with your cheeks wet with tears, he's not satisfied

LOVES how easy it is to properly ruin you

he's only thrusting into you and you're already whimpering and mewling?

the things you do to him

the way you moan and sob just because of his sheer size is such an ego boost

Chūya has a big dick and a size kink.

no one is allowed to disagree. 🧍

he often takes it a step further with properly breeding you

and, fuck, the way you arch your back and choke on needy sobs while he fills you up, his cock nudging against your cervix, is just so arousing to him

he also likes to overstimulate you

you simply beg for him to stop so prettily while he makes you cum for the third time that night

ALSO... if you're a brat, he doesn't hesitate to punish you accordingly

and if you cry easily? even better <3

Chūya mocks you for sobbing and pouting when things don't go your way

and if you whimper and sob by the time he's ten hits into spanking you, he outright laughs at you

like.... babe, you've barely even started

he can't wait to see how much of a mess you are when he's done!

besides, the way your raw ass matches the shade of your flushed hot cheeks is just adorable

all in all, he just thinks it's so hot when you cry from pleasure 🧡

but also doesn't mind seeing you sob and tell him you're sorry while you're bent over his lap

“Fuck, doll, you're crying already. Where did all that attitude from minutes ago go, hm? Don't you feel like being a brat anymore? I'm pretty sure you were just teasing me about my size. Don't tell me I've already fucked that bravado out of you.”

FYODOR isn't too surprised when your eyes suddenly shine with tears while he's spreading you open on his fingers;

you're always rather emotional, which is why he kind of figured you're like that during sex as well

but that he expected it doesn't mean he's any less excited about it

in fact, he's thrilled

he definitely wants to see you cry and sob until your throat is hoarse and your eyes burn from tearing up

doesn't matter if you're crying because of pain or pleasure

though he does prefer seeing you in agony

like Dazai, he enjoys edging you; his gaze amused as he watches you writhe on the bed to try and grind down on his fingers

he thinks it's so funny that you actually get your hopes up 😭😭

Fyodor degrades and mocks you mercilessly

it's not unlikely that you start crying just because of how mean he is 💔

also, he loves to make you beg and plead for mercy or his attention

thinks it's sooo adorable when you get all desperate and needy

“Dear, either stop sobbing and speak up or stay quiet. I can barely understand you. The way you're blabbering is pathetic, really.”

also, another one who actually gets aroused when you cry and when you're humiliated

OH, and when you're physically sensitive as well... god, he loves it

will pinch your nipples and shove his fingers down your throat until tears are dripping down your cheeks and drool is wetting your chin

you look like a pathetic dog like this. Fyodor loves it. 🧡

and, yes, he definitely catches your tears with his thumb and has you lick them off his finger :)

THIS IS HOT 😳

also, if he ever does take a picture of you... well, he's a rather private person, but he wouldn't mind it if Nikolai "accidently" caught a glimpse of how pretty you look with your makeup all smudged-

“Oh my, you're tearing up already, dear, and I've only got my fingers inside of you. I wonder, just how ruined are you going to be by the time I actually fuck you, hm? Well, it's not like you've deserved my cock yet, anyway.”

notes: this took oddly long to write but here it is, finally!! i hope everyone likes it 👉🏻👈🏻 🧡

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[yandere-daze]

Repost, hope this gets into tags this time, tumblr please

Heya! Sorry for the long wait, anon! I´ll be honest, I don´t know Hiyori all too well but I hope you still enjoy!

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, possessiveness, classism ( not towards reader), threats ( not towards reader), implied murder if you squint?

General Yandere! Hiyori headcanons

Hiyori is definitely a very interesting yandere! I feel that as his darling, you would know pretty early on that he´s into you. He´s a very passionate and expressive person so I imagine he´s very eager to let the entire world know just how obsessed he is with you 

He likes to tell other people that he is superior to them due to his royal ancestry but for some reason that he himself can´t quite explain, he doesn´t want to do that with you. People often tell him that that sort of behaviour is off-putting and he doesn´t like the thought of being disliked by you

Being hated is actually one of his greatest fears, something he doesn´t like thinking about either, so it´s completely out of the question for him to leave a bad impression on you, the one he cares so much about!

Because even though Hiyori tends to act selfish, he has a tendency to get easily attached to others and has an urge to take care of them

Only with you, these urges to take you in and provide for you are even stronger

Due to his family, he has plenty of money at his disposal, more than most other people could ever hope to earn in their entire lives. So it´s not a big deal if Hiyori frequently purchases expensive gifts that he knows you have been yearning for, or when he invites you to dinner in a fancy dinner that you feel way too underdressed for. While you´re still wondering how he had managed to rent out the entire restaurant on such short notice, he´s just excited that you two are finally on a real “date”

He strikes me as a tad delusional, at least to the point where he doesn´t think the way he feels for you is wrong in any way. He´s Hiyori so of course his emotions for you are going to be a bit intense! It´s perfectly normal, right?

He´s very touchy and clingy too, seemingly never wanting to leave your sight and sulking whenever your attention isn´t focused solely on him. Why are you paying attention to those nobodies when he´s right here next to you? Don´t you love him?

Please, he needs your love to stay alive! The mere thought that you might not feel the same way has him shaken

But hasn´t he done everything he can to impress you? Hasn´t he been taking good care of you?

Hiyori is convinced that the other people in your life are the reason why you aren´t falling for him and it makes him very angry

While he´s remarkably soft around you, others do not get the same pleasure. Instead, he acts very snippish and cruel when talking to someone he doesn´t deem worthy of his time and this is especially true when he suspects that the person in question may have played a part in driving you away from him

Insults them for being of lower class and mocks them outright, saying that they aren´t even worthy of breathing the same air as you. Do they really think that you actually care about them and aren´t just taking pity on them because they´re just so pathetic? Really, how dare they have the gall to even try to get close to you?

Hiyori has everything you could ever need, you don´t need them to make you happy. He could make you happier than anyone else! You could go on cute and fun dates together every day and just forget about all other people and duties you may have needed to attend to! They don´t really matter when the two of you are together!

He could even buy cute new clothes for you so the two of you finally match and even strangers will be able to see you are a couple! Isn´t that just wonderful? He´ll dress you up in the prettiest outfits and you´ll have so much fun! Why, Hiyori almost can´t contain his excitement so it´s best you two leave this insignificant bug behind before his mood makes a rapid change for the worse and he actually starts threatening that poor person

He may not want to get his own hands dirty but with the right amount of money, anything could be achieved

They better not get in his way again, for he might not be so kind the second time

[rayshippouuchiha]

Yamada: so how did you and izuku start dating

Aizawa: I saw him crush a watermelon with his thighs and I accidentally said out loud “oh god I wish that were me right now” and here we are now

~The way this immediately and completely ate my entire brain~

Of three things Aizawa Shouta is absolutely sure:

One, he simply was not built for operating during the daylight hours. Nighttime really is where it's at in his opinion. The general lack of crowds and eye-searing sunlight just can't be beaten. (Dusk and dawn hours also get a pass but they're both on thin ice.)

Two, the beach is a sandy hell-scape whose only redeeming factor is the convenient access it provides to the eldritch horror that is the ocean aka the place he'll doubtlessly end up drowning himself when he finally, and according to Hizashi inevitably, snaps and runs gibbering mad into the abyss.

And three, he's absolutely and irrevocably cursed. He's being singled out and punished from on high by the gods themselves. His name is writ large across the cosmos in mockery. There is a cosmic "kick me" sign taped to his spiritual back and Shouta's going to hunt his former student Sero down and give him detention for life for encouraging his family's patron god to put it there.

By this point it's really the only logical explanation.

Which, as a card-carrying atheist, he's pretty sure is saying something about the depth of his feelings regarding his current circumstances.

Because there's no other explanation for why or how he's managed to find himself in this current situation.

The situation being, of course, Shouta, in full hero gear, standing in the hot sun on a pristine sandy beach, surrounded by screaming fans as he provides extra security and crowd control for the 20th Annual Heroic Sukiwari Charity Drive.

Shouta has seen hell and it is both Ms. Joke's open mic night and this exact moment right here.

Because, again, he's absolutely 100% cursed.

And the avatar of said curse is, obviously, his soon-to-be ex-best friend who somehow roped him into this entire thing.

Because some people say divine retribution when talking about cosmic revenge plots but Shouta tends to just says Yamada Hizashi. The two are, in many ways, interchangeable.

Shouta's going to put purify salts in all of Hizashi's hair products and also his sugar jar and possibly his energy drinks the next chance he gets.

Because if he never sees another shirtless pro-hero or another watermelon again in his life it'll be too soon.

He's pretty sure he has permanent hearing damage from all of the screaming and screeching the crowd's been doing since this thing started.

And if, after all these years of friendship with the personification of a megaphone, watching a bunch of pro's crush watermelons with nothing but their personal strength on a beach to raise money for various charities is what finally destroys his hearing Shouta is going to shave Hizashi bald before he finally embraces sweet death.

Or enacts Nezu's birthday plans and becomes a supervillain.

The jury's honestly still out at this point.

Shouta does his best to shut out the screaming behind him as one of the cameramen slides up beside him, getting a better angle on the stage as Hizashi, who's currently screeching about Miruko's performance, practically dances across the sand in front of where Shouta's standing.

"Wow, wow, wow," Present Mic chants as he dramatically fans himself, "that was one on heart-stopping, hare-raising show. Let's give it up for everyone's favorite bad, bad, bunny, Miruko!"

For her part, Miruko just struts off the small stage with a nonchalant wave to the crowd, her tiny white bikini in place and the pulverized remains of the half dozen watermelons she'd dropped kicked into soup left behind her.

"But don't lose that rhythm yet listeners," Mic announces gleefully. "Because we've got one more hero set to take the stage! So, without further ado, it's the moment I know a lot of you have been waiting for, myself included if we're being honest. The pièce de résistance of our little shindig, the showstopper himself, the one, the only, the #1 Can Do Hero Dekiru."

The crowd is absolutely deafening.

And, for once, Shouta has to grudgingly admit that he can't actually blame them.

Shirtless, sculpted shoulders and tight abs on display thanks to his low sitting and almost criminally short green swim shorts, and with his trademark bashful smile in place, Dekiru trots out from behind the curtained-off area with a crate of watermelons resting on his shoulder like it's no big deal.

Shouta's pretty sure someone to his immediate right faints but considering they're not currently a trample risk he ignores it.

But the casual show of strength with no quirk use in sight is more than a bit impressive.

For all that people, romance specifically, and attraction in general, have all been things to be considered on a firm case-by-case basis for Shouta, even he has to admit that Dekiru is ... captivating.

Rather drastically so for Shouta considering he's never actually met the man before in person.

Though Shouta does feel like he almost knows him on some level considering the fact that it really would take an act of the actual gods to get Yagi to shut up about his erstwhile protege during staff meetings.

Dekiru waves his free hand at the crowd as he sets his crate of watermelons down on the stage.

"Show us what you've got!" Mic demands from a few feet to Shouta's left. "And let's give him some encouragement listeners!"

The crowd starts up a loud and steady chant of "De~ki~ru!" as the hero pulls his first watermelon out and begins his set.

With an effortless flex of muscles, Dekiru digs his fingers into the watermelon and wrenches it completely in two.

Shouta reaches up to tug at the top of his uniform, relishing the small sip of cool air it grants him.

Shoulders and biceps flexing, another watermelon meets its end between Dekiru's palms.

Shouta really needs to add a water bottle to his utility belt because hydration is important. Or so he's been repeatedly told.

"Those hands, those muscles," Mic groans dramatically. "He really is the Can Do Hero!"

Cheeks noticeably flushed, Dekiru sits down on the stage and fits a watermelon between thick, toned thighs.

His hips twist, those thighs flex, and the watermelon cracks, spilling juice and sweet pink flesh all over Dekiru's lap.

"Oh god," Shouta can't help but say, "I wish that was me right now."

On stage Dekiru's eyes go wide as his attention somehow abruptly zero's in on Shouta.

It's at that moment that Shouta becomes aware of the deafening silence that's fallen over the beach.

Head-turning agonizingly slowly to the left, Shouta's confronted with the sight of Mic, microphone in hand, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

His sunglasses are askew and he's staring at Shouta with a look on his face that's one part horror and one part unholy glee.

As a matter of fact, the entire beach is staring at him in much the same way.

For a moment Shouta just freezes, body going still at having so much attention turned in his direction.

This ... was not the turn he was expecting the day to take by far.

His first instinct is to, honestly, use his scarf to slingshot himself directly into the sun so his soul can be cleansed with cosmic fire.

But then ...

"Ah," Dekiru speaks up from on the stage, one hand ruffling the back of his hair and cheeks darker than before, "maybe we could go on a date first though? If you'd like?"

There's suddenly a part of Shouta that doesn't actually want to delete himself from existence via self-immolation.

And there's an even large part that doesn't want to outright reject Dekiru's seemingly sincere offer.

Because, when it all comes down to it, Dekiru seems to be, by all accounts, what passes for exactly Shouta's type.

Whip-smart if his very public arrest record and tendency to argue online and on the air with people he disagrees with is anything to go by.

Cute, with that dark green hair and sharp undercut, matching wide eyes, and a face sprinkled liberally with freckles.

Leanly built and small enough that Shouta's sure he could move him around easily but obviously muscular enough to be able to put up just the right amount of resistance in the right situation.

And, above all else, if the stories are to be believed, obviously some degree of batshit insane.

More than one story Yagi had told during breaks had Shouta questioning if the man had imported special American demons back to Japan and then stuffed them all into the deceptively charming and approachable-looking hero that is Dekiru.

So there's really only one logical way to proceed forward in this situation.

Shouta grins.

Several people in the crowd around him step back.

He's pretty sure he hears someone start reciting a prayer.

But Dekiru just blushes, eyes locked on Shouta's and teeth tugging at his lower lip.

"Hope you like coffee," Shouta finally says into the breathless silence that's fallen over them, "and cats."

Dekiru lights up, a smile brighter than the sun and twice as deadly blossoming across his face.

Just off of Shouta's side, Hizashi's busy having some kind of hysterical seizure.

Around them the crowd is going absolutely feral.

Yagi's going to birth actual kittens in the middle of the staff room when he finds out about this.

Shouta can't wait.

[yuzukult]

bittersweet. (m) || kmg & reader

title: bittersweet. pairing: kim mingyu x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, established relationship!au word count: 3.1k warnings: dirty deed is done (aka explicit sex if you didn't catch that). profanity. prompt: you're always fighting. he doesn't get you. so why are you even still together? a/n: before any of my friends make fun of me, shaddup. anyways, this is for @/ficscafe dialogue prompt event! i'll be using #14: you make me weak.

He’s so adamant.

The crinkle in between his brows, the scrunch of his nose, and his incessant blinking from all the nerves, despite it all, he still stands firm on his beliefs.

But you’re fighting. Always fighting.

He doesn’t get you—he spends most of the time he's with you arguing about how insensitive you are as a person, how nonchalant you can be when you should be reacting with some type of emotion, and how he wished you’d been more affectionate with him.

But he doesn’t understand you. He thinks you’re selfish (sure, he didn’t outright state this, but you can sense him feeling this way.)

Albeit you’re unsure how you got yourself in this position—back flat against the wall, his hands on your wrists with his crotch pinning yours as your legs wrap around him securely to meet his gaze from the height difference.

“I need you to talk to me,” he rasps, anger filled in his voice. “I’m so tired of making this into some guessing game. Why can’t you just tell me how you feel?”

Although he’s got you cornered, rutting his hips into you once again, it's not persuasive enough. “Talk to me.”

“If you can’t figure me out, maybe we should just break up. I didn’t want to date in the first place.”

Jaw clenched, his eyes continue to melt into yours. He’s looking for anything—a sign, a glimpse, a crack in your exterior to see whatever it is you’re truly feeling inside. “Why do you always use that as a solution? Instead of just communicating?”

“Because—“ you halt, breath hitching when he shifts, the head of his cock rubbing against your bud through your thin material shorts. “—Because it’s an easier solution. What do you expect from me?”

“To tell me and show me if you like me or not. You’re like a fucking boulder. I can’t move you.”

You quirk a brow. “Your fucking holding me down right now. You’ve evidently proved you can move me elsewhere.”

“Emotionally,” he says, exasperated. “The most I can get you to feel something is when we’re fucking. I’m surprised we’re even fucking in the first place. You barely let me hold your hand!”

Rolling your eyes, you pull your arms from his hold and he lets go easily. It’s the type of person Mingyu is—he’s gentle, the complete opposite of you, with a heart of gold that everyone loves and appreciates. He’s lovable, known to many, and desired by them all, and somehow, you got him in your grasp and truthfully… you’re not sure what to do.

He’s fragile, but you have rough hands with toughened skin from years of experience and encounters. There’s this fear that you’ll drop him, shatter him into pieces as brittle as chinaware. So you hold the front, keep yourself strong with a facade tougher than concrete, because you’re afraid if you hold on too tight, he might break. And at the same time, he might break you too.

“You wanna know why?” You finally blurt, words firm and sharp. “Because you make me weak. And I don’t like being weak. I don’t like being known as weak. And you—you do that to me. I hate it.”

He furrows his brows. “I make you weak? The one girl I know to be the most resilient?” Mingyu has to scoff in disbelief because it’s the first time he’s hearing this. “You realize how insane you sound? It’s okay to have feelings for me. It’s why we’re together.”

Nose twitching, you suck in your cheeks. “I hate it. I hate this. I hate that when you turn to look at me in the morning, you give me that fucking… smile. Like I’m your whole world. Like you’re head over heels for me and I’m all that you see.”

“And why do you hate that?”

“Because, some part of me, deep down into the abyss, wants to look at you like that too.”

His jaw loosens, just like the restraints he had over his heart in the past hour of arguing, hands now finding purchase on your thighs to pull you back up closer. “Baby…” he calls out for you softly, the term of endearment nearly bursting your heart, but you keep yourself calm and collected as you normally do. “Then do it. Why are you so scared?”

“I told you.”

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“Well, it’s good enough for me.”

He heaves a heavy breath. “Baby, I can’t keep doing this. I feel like I’m chasing you but I’m getting nothing out of it.”

Then, you reiterate the same words you’ve said multiple times, but there’s never any genuinity in it because you never actually… meant it. “Then let’s break up.”

“We’re not breaking up.”

“Then what do you want to do? Tell me. If breaking up isn’t the option, then tell me instead of having me up the wall if we’re not gonna fuck.”

“Fucking only happens when you’re pissed or when you’re making up.”

“So, what now?”

It’s Mingyu’s turn to roll his eyes. “We make up. I need you to talk to me. I can barely read you—the only thing I know for sure is that you don’t want this to end because you just admitted to me that you wanna look at me the same way I look at you.”

Frustrated, you let your head drop onto the wall behind you. “This is annoying. I don’t like expressing stuff. You just take what you get or leave. If you can’t figure out what’s going through my mind, what’s the point? Why put in the effort?” Eyes fluttering shut, you feel yourself wanting to crawl into a ball and just… hide. Despite being fully clothed, you feel naked when Mingyu asks for more. And what he’s asking for isn’t even unreasonable—you’re just horrible at telling people what you’re feeling. “I just… why can’t I just let you lay your head on my lap when you get home from work? Or… cook dinner with you. Even have it ready when you have long nights at work. Maybe even fold your laundry—I don’t know. I don’t like PDA but if you asked me, I’d hold your hand under the table. Or… hold it in your pocket on cold days.”

Then, Mingyu stays silent (for the first time).

It finally hits.

You’re not outspoken when it comes to soft things. You’re loving but not in the same way he is. You’re also honest and straightforward about everything except when it comes to admitting feelings for him.

And for once, when you say those words, he… he feels loved by you.

He remembers those days—after spending hours at the gym despite having a long work day, he’d come home and you’re there waiting for him on the couch so you could shower together. You’d help scrub his limp body, even though he moans and groans about how sore he is, but you do it nonetheless because you like him. Or when you stopped by at his apartment, one he shares with all his friends, because he was stuck with helping one of them build their beds and you brought them all, including himself, lunch. And that wasn’t to mention you were already working twelve hour days.

“Can you answer one question for me, then? I won’t force you to tell me again. I just need to hear it once.”

Your eyes open, and it feels like a mistake because your heart drops into your stomach. His gaze is hypnotizing, like he’s got you in a trance, and you respond with a ‘yes’ without much thought because of him.

Mingyu swallows all his anxiety before asking that million dollar question.

“Do you love me?”

Although you feel small being put on the spot like that, the one thing you’ll admit is that you’ve already predetermined the answer to this. And just as much courage as Mingyu puts into asking, you’ll reciprocate and do the same in answering because he’s admirable for even trying.

“Yes.”

Without much thought, he presses his lips against yours. You love him, although you rarely if not never say it, but you finally said those words and all he needs is to hear it just once for assurance. To know that there’s something he’s chasing for, that he’s not running in place like on a treadmill.

Arms snaking around his neck, you keep your hold there as his hands reach to your jaw, leveraging the kiss in an angle he’d prefer. When you kiss, he feels complete. He’s never felt like this with another girl before, this feeling of home, the feeling of comfort. You’re colder than brisk winters, but something about having you in his arms makes him warm.

Your fingers comb through his locks, and although it’s doused in gel and spent hours on doing this morning, he doesn’t mind because he knows he’s yours. When you kiss him back, he’s as anxious as he was when he had to go on stage and perform in front of people for the first time.

Gently pulling away, both your lips are pink and swollen with a string of saliva connecting between. Pants brushing against each other’s face, a soft smile tugs on the edges of your lips as you feel heat creeping up your neck.

“I love you too,” he says, as low as a whisper. “And… I’m okay if you don’t say it again. You know how I show you that I love you… and I should’ve been better at learning what you’re comfortable with in showing how you love. But I still need you to help, too, to make this… better. I need you to talk to me, when you need me. When I need you. I need you to be here for me too.”

“Okay,” you respond, volume matching his. “If that’s the case, I love you. Just… as another reminder since I only said yes the first time.”

He lets out a chuckle, vibrating from his chest and everything about him makes your heart race. “Good. Can I show you how much I love you?”

“No,” you retort quickly and bashfully. But he knows you’re playing because you nod afterwards, allowing him to carry you to the couch. “Maybe.”

“I need a yes, love,” Mingyu says cheekily, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You know I’m not going to go any further until I hear it.”

“Yes,” you reply embitterly, but Mingyu knows better now. He knows what you want, because all he needed was assurance. “Please show me how much you love me.”

And fuck, because he never knew how much he needed to hear those words all his life.

You’re so pretty when he has you stripped down to nothing, laid out on the leather couch of your living room; hair messy, mouth gaped open from all his teasing, and with an arm covering your face because it’s all too much for you. Mingyu is a passionate lover, you’ve come to recognize, and although it’s all an unfamiliar territory, you love him and you’re willing to step into the unknown.

“How am I doing?” He asks, as if he doesn’t have his head in between your legs and a grip on the meat of your thighs. He loves the taste of you, he reminds you plenty of times, but dirty talk coming from such an innocent face makes you slightly embarrassed. “Feels good?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, avoiding his infatuated stare. “Just… just fucking do it, you asshole.”

“What? Show you how much I love you?”

There’s a tornado in the pit of your stomach. He keeps saying things that make you awkward because you’ve never been loved like how Mingyu loves.

You don’t react, and this displeases him. Laying his tongue flat out against your cunt, he gives you another lick that lets a whimper escape from your lips. “Tell me, baby. Am I doing a good job?”

“Yes,” you croak, only because you feel like he’s got you in this position for so long. You’re so exposed, and he at least has his boxers to protect him like a shield, but you’re all out in the open. (Not to mention his fucking built body. He makes you feel so insecure about yours—how is this puppy looking boy so… wide? What the fuck?) “Can you… can you take that off?”

He leans up, tilting his head in confusion and now you can see how hard he is in his undergarments. “My… my boxers?”

“Yeah. I feel like… I’m the only one exposed here.”

He laughs. “Baby, we’ll get to that.”

“Now.”

Mingyu snorts. “Anything my baby wants.” He bumps foreheads with you gingerly, something he's always done playfully, and tugs off his boxers swiftly as requested. “Let me make you cum first and—“

“No,” you interject, eyes closed and biting down on your bottom lip. It's the only way to remain bold—to not look him in the eye because he’ll melt you like a stick of butter left on the kitchen counter. “Show me how you love me.”

Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to shuffle quickly through the little stash hidden on the first shelf underneath your coffee table (he likes to be prepared in every situation even though this is your apartment) and finally spots the condom he hid a week ago. Tearing it open rapidly, he gives himself a couple pumps that have beads of precum building at the top and slips the rubber on with ease. “Ready?”

“For you?” Mingyu gulps, because before today, you’ve rarely said anything that made his heart stutter. “Anything.”

With a push of the head of his cock into your heat, a quiet wince escapes from your lips and his chocolate orbs are saturated in apologies. He doesn’t want you to feel pain, especially not you, but even his efforts to loosen you up beforehand, you still manage to be so tight around him every time. It feels good to have you around him snugly, yet he knows the consequence of the beginning is the ache in between your legs from the first intrusion.

“I’m sorry, bub,” Mingyu presses a tender kiss on your forehead. “Bear with me, yeah?”

“Mm,” you hum dismissively, warming up when he finally slides himself all the way in. He stills, in fear that you’re hurt, but instead, you’re surprisely impatient as you cross your legs behind him and pull him close. Bringing your lips close to his ears, you breathe, “fuck me, baby.”

Mingyu laughs brightly, and your jaw clenches. “What?”

“After today, I’m not going to fuck you.” You quirk a brow. “I’m gonna make love to you.”

“Don’t make me throw up. You’re ruining the moment.”

He grins mischievously before pulling out and shoving himself back in swiftly that earns a groan from you. “Oh? Am I?”

“Stop playing, Mingyu,” you state sternly, but Mingyu is enjoying himself too much. “Or else you're not getting any for the month.”

Well, that does the trick.

He has his hands on your hips, pushed down against the seat cushions of your loveseat couch, hips once flushed against yours now thrusting into your throbbing pussy. God, you’re fucking done for, honestly, because he’s a pro with his hips when he angles it just right that he’s brushing against your swollen clit, hitting so deep into you.

“Fuck—“

“You curse too much, baby,” Mingyu puffs, pecking the side of your lips sloppily. “Everyone thinks I’m such a nice guy and when they meet my—fuck—g-girlfriend and find out how much of a dirty mouth she has, they’re always struck.”

“Too fucking bad,” you spit, fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders. He’s so big, stretching you with each shove, but you’d never tell him that or his ego would inflate. “Stop talking and fuck me harder.”

Mingyu loves. He loves and loves, and although you won’t pretend that he comes to your home often with crumpled pieces of papers with girls’ names and numbers on them that fall into the catch-all bowl by the door with his keys, you don’t forget that besotted daze he falls into the moment he sees you. So when you ask for something, he delivers without fail.

Abiding by your urge, his hips move briskly, pistoning into you as fast as he can. Biceps tense, you can’t help but let your hands slip there, gripping onto the muscle and has you wondering fuck, how did you get so lucky? He’s hot, cute, sweet, loving and geez, he could fuck. He’s so clumsy, so dumb sometimes, but he’s so freaking lovable it makes you sick. Lovesick.

His pretty eyes shut close, you notice, because those two cups of hot chocolate are gone and he’s chewing on his bottom lip as he groans, ends of his hair that brush over his eyes now drenched in sweat. His skin glistens underneath the dim lights, and he reminds you of the stars in the night sky—so gorgeous, so special. Always a sight to see.

“Fuck,” the not-so-innocent boy curses (even though he just said you curse too much) “Baby, you just got so tight. Are you about to cum?”

“Possibly,” you manage to say, still attempting to play games even though Mingyu could very so threaten to steal your orgasm away from the tip of your fingers. But when he slightly shifts in the midst of his pounding, you let out a raspy, “Almost,” because he’s rubbing against your nub incessantly that you’re losing all your focus.

When you finally see those stars, you let go.

Mingyu feels this, grunting when you convulse around his dick, head dropping to watch you tug and tug around him, begging for him to cum. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long because after a couple thrusts, he stills, spilling ropes of cum into the condom and dropping the entirety of his weight onto you, face snug into the crook of your neck once again.

“I—“

“You’re heavy.”

“Fuck, baby, we just had sex and that’s the first thing you say?”

He can’t see you, but there’s a smile on your face. “Yeah. And you got my couch all sticky from your sweat. Not to mention the cum. Are you gonna clean it after?”

Mingyu doesn’t care. He’s blissful. He’s happy. He knows you’re going to toss a damp rag at him later, despite his dick out and still drenched in your arousal, and tell him to ‘wipe down the fucking couch because that’s gross.’

All because he knows that you love him.

[k-dokja]

you're... seeing owen knight? / wind breaker

Okay, that’s all for my Owen’s brain rot, thank you for reading.

— This fool... He spends a lot of times watching you with a smile on his face and if you caught him staring, it'd make him smile even more. He would definitely make you lose in a staring contest because either he can last longer than you or he does something that makes your flustered. Annoying.

— His entire crew knew who you were even before you met them, they even knew who you were because he has a bunch of candid photos of you in his phone. Most of them are from “dates” or when he bothered you because he has free time.

— Always pays when the two of you are out together, it's not chivalry or anything—he likes spoiling you. You can fight with him about it, he actually finds it funny to see you try. I'd applaud you if you somehow manage to prevent Owen from buying literally everything for you.

— You have a lot of couple items with him because of that. Lucky for you, most of them can work as standalone items and honestly, it's funny to go with the absolute opposite of what he said when he wants to coordinate clothes together. He would be so pouty the rest of the day but you have the victory of getting the upper-hand for once.

— Somehow, he manages to memorize all of your preferences. Whenever he orders drinks at the store, he doesn't have to ask before ordering for you, too. In fact, sometimes you get things you previously added to your online cart with no intention to buy simply because Owen saw you picking it once.

— Bought you a tiny plush toy keychain and got one matching for himself too, he's a sucker for having the little things matched with you.

— Will most definitely try to hug or kiss you after he finished his practices and reek of sweat. Even if he felt hot, he will refuse to budge because he wanted to hold you more.

— You are all over his private Instagram whether you like it or not. In fact, you probably show up in his more than your own. He uses the private one which is for friends and families to spam pictures of you, and you get tagged in everything cool he wants to buy or places he goes with you, too.

— If you have a Tic Tac account, get ready to get tagged into anything funny or cute couple videos by him, too. He's going to try to get you to do the couple trends with him, he really has no stop.

— He looks cold as ice to his competitors, somewhat a friendly angel to his fans, but to you, it's an entirely different story. He allowed himself to be vulnerable around you. This mostly means you had seen him dead drunk and clinging to your side like you're his lifeline. This is rare because very few people had witnessed him drunk, tipsy, yes, but drunk? Never.

— He only allowed himself to drink to the point where he can't see right from left when he's at home with you. Maybe has a little thing for drunk make-out sessions, and if it escalates, then at least everyone involved will have a good time. Either he will pass out in the middle of kissing on your skin, or he will giggle all the way. He's a relaxed, flirty drunk around you, very handsy and kissy.

— ...Yes, another meaning to seeing him vulnerable is also seeing the thirst traps he sent exclusively to you. Never sent anything outright, because he prefers the tease far more than blatantly showing it. Also because he's a public figure, if anyone got their hand on your phone, it wouldn't be fun neither of you. Likes lingerie shots from you, finds thighs and cleavage extra enticing when paired with laces.

— Also uses your chest as his pillows given the chance, to be honest. He really thinks they are so soft and enticing whenever he feels sleepy. Likes to nuzzle you when he's still hazy from waking up too.

— Doesn't mind if you don't like biking as much as he does, as long as you show interests in his passion, he's happy. Will show the same level of support to you when it comes to your own craft. Generally, if you're extra understanding and supportive of him, then he will try to match your energy.

— Possessive, yes, but he's also protective of you in general. He's surrounded by... colorful characters to say the least. While he knows how to fight and defend himself, he likes to know you're safe, too. Pretty much anyone who knows of his reputation knows to steer clear of you. However, those ignorant of his capabilities tend to meet the worst of their fates when they tried to mess with you.

— It does not look pretty when he loses his temper. His rage is a type of tranquil anger which bleeds into bloodied knuckles, and somehow, those blood is never his. He's all smile and cheer to you later on, not wanting you to see the worst of his violence because of his past habit with his childhood friend. You are shielded, to say the least.

— However, if you whoop asses on your own account, then never mind him standing at the corner while you deal with your business. He'd help, given the chance, but if you look really into it, he's happy standing at the side cheering you on. Seeing you showing people their places when they mess with you most often turns him on. Him dragging you home really fast afterwards is only half for your safety. The other half... eh.

— No matter how badass you are, he still probably thinks you're cute as a button. He can carry you back to your bed with ease whenever you fall asleep at random places in your place. Only after he took like 15 pictures of you drooling in your sleep.

— Really likes to kiss you awake, just peppers a bunch of kisses all over your face whenever he wakes up first and decides he has enough of watching you sleep. Will absolutely adore it if you do the same to him, might even pull you back to lie in another five minutes with him whenever that happens.

— He also bought you a really cute transparent umbrella with little patterns on it. This was because one time he remembered you never checked the weather and there'd be rain incoming that afternoon based on his wind reading. He decided to pleasantly surprise you by getting you a new umbrella to walk to the bus with you.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - He Doesn’t Own My Heart

For: @silverwing013 @lilinda21 @dizzlypuzzled @bibliophilea @LovelyUnkown 

The Midwest’s a hard place to live, love, and laugh; and the kids aren’t quite alright. They’re getting tired and need to make things better.

Paulina hums to herself, sticking up another photo of her Phantom to her locker door. Sure he wasn’t really hers and she wanted it that way. She wasn’t even interested in him, in boys, but she could never tell anyone and parading Phantom around as the one who had her heart kept the boys from going for her.

After all, how could any of the boys here compete with him? By boy standards Phantom was amazing actually. A hero. A dead hero. If she were a bit less selfish she might actually feel bad about effectively using him and outright stalking him to ‘prove her love’. If she had it her way, it would be Star she’d be parading around and she’s so sure Star feels the same. Which might be because the whole skipping into bathroom stalls together to ‘do their makeup and clothes in privacy because no one deserves a show from the schools most beautiful girls’ was nothing but a cover. It was wrong to hide and sneak around like that, probably unhealthy or whatever some silly councillor would say. But as safe as Phantom kept everyone, he dealt with the ghosts not the bigotry that was so common here in this part of the world. There’s a part of her that hopes he would fight against it though, he was a hero after all. Heroes were supposed to be the good guys and good guys don’t queer bash. But she’s not about to run up and tell him her everything, if he seemed to like boys then maybe… but she knows he has a thing for the Red Huntress, anyone with eyes could see that. Of course that didn’t mean he was straight but whatever. She hopes he gets her though, he deserves something good for putting up with Paulina’s harassment and using of him.

And maybe if he wasn’t available it would be enough to push her to maybe be honest. To finally decide love trumped image, could trump hate. Before she lost her Star to university or someone else. Someone who didn’t put image above her.

But Paulina has some self-awareness, knows herself enough to know that won’t really happen. Phantom being unavailable will change nothing and maybe coming off as ‘even more hopeless’ would keep boys away from her forever. Boys don’t like clingy girls right? Well what about a girl clingy enough to keep going after a taken boy.

But well, this is just her thinking and stuff. So long as Valerie doesn’t pull her head out of the ghost-hating sand, Phantom’s as up the creek as Paulina in the love department. She did feel a little bad for Valerie too though, since Phantom actually being her soul mate was legit super obvious to her. Paulina’s keen eyes were her pride and glory, and combined with her watching Phantom so much to ‘prove her love’; well let’s say the matching injuries were obvious. Especially since the very first sighting of Phantom, that she only found out by finding Wes’s first episode of that silly podcast of his, matched up perfectly with the day after Val had come to her freaking out about the sudden Linchenberg injury.

In short, Paulina knew Phantom was dead. Knew it better than most. Because she had seen the very injury that must have killed him. And she knew how often Val would point out new soul injuries, which lessened long before their friendship soured. Back when Paulina got a nasty one of her own, a bullet hole over her heart. And unlike Valerie, she didn’t get any more soul injuries afterwards.

She doesn’t know if that’s because whoever was her soul mate didn’t become a ghost, didn’t ever get hurt as a ghost, or if Phantom was just… special like that. Either way, Val had a chance that Paulina didn’t and was nice enough to not want to upset Paulina over that. But Paulina still noticed the marks and saw the Phantom fights, and put two and two together to make four. And Valerie -not Val, because they are not friends. Not now- being the Red Huntress was just obvious, Paulina doesn’t get how no one else seems to notice that.

Shaking her head and fiddling absently with her pencil. Pausing like everyone else at the sudden shake and boom. A ping from the town chat telling her that Danny’s run off out of class again. Meaning it’s showtime for her, she has no clue why Danny was a living ghost sensor or why it made him need to pee, ew. But she’ll take it.

Time to put on her show.

Shooting up her hand, “Mr. CampBell! I left my science project thingy in my locker and it’s touch-sensitive!”. The social teacher shoos her off with a sigh, and she’s gone. Catching multiple girls rolling their eyes and boys grumbling to themselves. Good.

-

What she hadn’t expected was getting outside to see the Red Huntress floating in the air on her hoverboard while holding Danny Fenton on the ground at gunpoint clutching his side. What?!?!?!?!? But the green pooling on the ground, slowly being mixed with blood; and the green on his side makes things click too well.

She had noticed how Fenton had often had the same injures at Val, as Valerie. She had thought that maybe two soul mates was a thing. Partly out of hoping Phantom was queer and would be the queer hero she did actually need and also partly out of hoping for herself that there was someone else out there for her and they just never got injured or were just a lot younger than her; she could live with that. God she’d feel crushed for Star though.

But apparently not. Which is just her luck.

Watching the Red Huntress deactivate or turn off or however that works, her helmet; revealing a stunned ebony-skinned face, matching the also stunned but far more cautious looking pale-skinned face.

“DANNY!?!”.

“Er um, please don’t shoot me again?”.

Paulina can’t help but let out a shocked squeak. Making both teens snap their heads to her and go even more wide-eyed.

Danny -Phantom?- trying to save face, “uh… this isn’t, um, what it looks like? I’m totally not bleeding ectoplasm”.

Valerie’s suit goes away likes it’s almost a reflex, the other girl's feet landing on the ground with a soft thump.

She knows they’re freaking out over her having apparently figured out their secrets. But what her mind is really on now is the fact that Valerie liked and had dated Fenton. She had her soul mate… and Phantom had his. She was KIDDING earlier when she thought she wanted Phantom to find his love! And now that Phantom was actually really Fenton, wow Wes was right, there was nothing stopping them from getting together! Valerie didn’t deserve him after everything! Even if she would be willing to look past him being ‘that evil ectoplasmic Phantom’ because she thinks Danny’s an absolute cinnamon roll! Balling her fists and stepping closer to the two, “no! This ISNT FAIR!”. Both of them stare at her in confusion and concern. “You two know know now!”, practically crying, “and now nothing’s going to stop you from being together! And how am I! Me! Going to keep the boys away from me NOW! It’s! IT’S JUST NOT FAIR!”; and collapses on her knees, crying into her hands.

Danny and Valerie exchange a glance, nodding subtly and Danny pushes himself up, still holding his side. Both of them go over to the crying teenager, kneel down and rub her arms. Valerie flinching away from contact with Danny though, making him frown for a second before putting on a smile and speaking up, “Paulina, what are you talking about”.

She mutters into her hands, “you two”, sniffling, “oh come on. It’s-it’s so obvious”, sniffling again, “you’re soul mates”, and whimpers a little.

Valerie frowns, “with.. with Phantom”, scowling, “Hell no”.

“Ouch”.

Paulina shoves Valerie over aggressively, snapping at her with tears still on her face, “how stupid can you be! All your soul injuries always matched his actual injuries from fights! You said yourself the lightning marks looked like a near-death thing!”; not noticing Danny flinching behind her. Paulina turning her head on Danny, “and you! I though you were, like, also Phantom’s soul mate but you were just HIM! Mine stayed dead and you! what! Get to not!”, and grabs her shoe off to throw at him. How dare he feel bad for her! Try to comfort her! At least Valerie actually winces from the ground at that.

But Danny just looks mad, him standing up and growling at her, “don’t you dare claim I’m fucking lucky. Do you, after all this time, seriously think being fucking dead is good? That all the heroism crap isn’t happening because the so called hero doesn’t have a fucking choice because his goddamn parents thought punching a hole into another dimension was a goddam good idea! I know you have a thing for Phantom but by the fucking Zone, Paulina”.

Valerie goes a little wide-eyed, whispering, “your… your parents caused all of this?”. While Paulina glares from the ground at Danny, “I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU!”.

“Yeah right. Because I’m Danny Fenton the loser right!?!”.

“NO! BECAUSE I’M GAY!”.

That silences everyone. Paulina realising with growing horror what she just said, being her hands up to her mouth and starting to cry hard all over again. Muttering, “oh god. Oh god”, looking desperately at the two, “please! You- you can’t tell any-anyone that I! I!”, and covers her face with her hands again and just cries. Valerie pushing herself up and immediately hugging her, “oh girl”. Paulina muttering without any real feeling, “get off me”.

“no. Not happening”.

Danny looking out to the side, sounding entirely calm, “if it’s anything, I’m pan… and societies standards can stuff it”, shrugging, “Sam’s a lesbian too and Tuck’s actually aromantic”.

Paulina rubs at her eyes, muttering at the ground with Valerie’s still hugging her, “so they’re putting on shows too, huh”.

“Sam’s parents know, but they threatened her with a pray the gay away camp. Tuck’s just a flirt though”.

Valerie squeezes Paulina a bit harder. Paulina giving up a little and leaning into it, talking at Danny, “that’s what I’m afraid of. And-and I have an i-image”, sniffling, “why-”, clearing her throat, “-why aren’t you out?”.

Danny shrugs, still looking away, “too busy with responsibilities I guess”, looking to her and smiling a little, “but Phantom could totally come out as a Pan-tom if it makes you feel any better”.

Valerie snorts, “fuck you and your puns”, muttering with out any feeling behind it, “stupid ghost”. Paulina actually chastises her, “stop being so mean to your soul mate”, managing to smile a little, “it’s exhausting watching you beat him up and hate him for three years”. Valerie just huffs but relaxes her grip some, sitting back on her knees but still touching the other girl.

Danny sighs, moving to kneel down himself again, “look, I’m sorry for yelling at you and about your… soul mate. I’d offer to look for her but that’s just… not a good idea”.

Paulina shakes her head, rubbing her eyes again, “no that’s alright, I was just- just taking things out on you. Could you even actually do that anyway?”.

Danny flicks her forehead with a smirk, “if you think all Phantom does is fight ghosts here then you’re kidding yourself. I’m a busy guy”. Valerie groans, “Zone we need to talk about this”.

“Or we could not”.

Paulina and Valerie both glare at the boy. Him just… being a stupid silly boy trying to avoid girl issues oddly makes her feel better though.

He quirks an eyebrow, “what. It’s an option”.

Valerie scowls, “a bad one”.

He shakes his head and his smile looks rather sad, “no. I’m better off staying just some ghost who fights ghosts in a small silly town and some lazy teen who’s a little clumsy”, pushing himself up, “ask Sam and Tuck, they know how hard it is to give a damn about me”, eyeing Valerie, “Plasmius knows you know about him, the only reason he didn’t tell you about me is because he actually cares about you in his own way”.

She scoffs at that.

Paulina shaking her head, “no. Hiding yourself sucks. Stop it”.

“It’s dangerous-”.

Paulina pushes herself up at that, hands on her hips, cutting him off, “no you silly stupid boy”, gesturing with both hands at Valerie, who’s now getting up herself, “you think she isn’t already doing the danger”.

Danny looks uncomfortable, “I try to stop her-”.

Valerie snorting, “yeah not happening”, frowning, “but I still can’t believe you. A ghost!”.

Paulina scowls in her practiced pretty way, promptly grabbing them and dragging them both back into the school by the wrists. The two bumping into each other, looking completely bewildered and blushing slightly. Paulina smiling to herself, just knowing your soul mate was your soul mate had an effect, everyone knew that so who were they kidding?

Dragging them into her next class and practically forcing Danny to sit in Valerie’s lap. Paulina nodding proudly to herself and announcing very loudly to the class that, “I’m just trying to force two soul mates together”. The two looking at her in shock making her smirk, “there. Now you have no choice. I can’t have what I want so don’t mock me by refusing to have each other”.

Valerie frowns a little sadly, “Paulina-”.

“Oh don’t Paulina me. Just congratulate yourself on finally catching that stupid spook”; and walks off to her seat, painted on smile in place.

Maybe she shouldn’t be too upset… or too hard on either of them. It hurt and it was unfair… and she didn’t really know what she was going to do now. But… Danny was right, him and Valerie didn’t have things easy. Sometimes it was easy to forget that dead meant dying and that heroism meant injuries and pain.

They were alone in the world… more than she was. And now at least they had each other like she had her Star.

-

And… later that evening Phantom was seen rocking a pink, yellow, and blue flag as a cape. The gossip over the next week was wild with both Danny’s and Valerie’s renewed and apparently mate-bonded relationship, and with Phantom being a queer hero. Paulina didn’t admit it, but she was touched really. She hopes the best for them and maybe she just made two… or four… new friends, the real kind. The hero in red happy to rekindle old friendships and the dead hero gracious enough to accept her after everything; both heroes honestly needing as many people in their corners as possible, regardless of what either of them said. As for the other two? Lesbians had to stick together after all, and the geek… well he just had zero standards.

End.

Prompts: At the end of the day, Paulina is well aware Phantom is dead.  It's not like she's serious.  Just like all those guys who gave up on pursuing her once they found out that was 'her type' and 'their competition'.  Boys were so stupid. and Valerie X Danny soulmate au. Whenever your soulmate is hurt, it will appear on your skin. First Valerie got a serious lichtenberg scar. she is absolutely freaked out, because she had never contacted her soulmate, and they definitely between life and dead situation at the time. Then the scar randomly appear and fading. Then Valerie got more random appearing injures. How will she figure out who is her soulmate? and "Paulina knew this was wrong, but she had to keep her image. She had no idea what would happen if she came out. Afterall, they lived in the Midwest, and people hated when things went against their beliefs.  and Wes decides to create a podcast investigating all the strangeness of Amity Park. His first episode centers around Danny Fenton. and Unlike Phantom, Valerie had no sympathy for the pests that Amity Park found charming. This all changes the day she actually manages to shoot down the town hero—forcing him back into human form.

[zevexsii]

naib subedar sfw + nsfw hcs (gn s/o)

cut for length and nsfw content !

sfw 

another difficult person to enter a relationship with. naib has lost too much to feel comfortable getting close to someone he knows isn’t going to stay close- you’re in it for the long run. 

in matches, you’re naib’s first priority (when you’ve been assigned to a team together, of course). the second naib notices you’ve been chaired, he’s headed your way as fast as he can. typically, he’d like you to stick together so he can keep a safe eye on you, but naib’s not too pressed if you two split of your own volition. 

there’s an incredibly low chance of being injured during a match with naib. if you’re wounded at the end, it’ll be small scratches or a bruise here and there. regardless of how small or shallow any of your scratches may be, naib is cleaning and bandaging them up, scolding you for being so reckless the entire time. 

he’s another big eater! devours anything you make and is more than happy to show you how to cook nepalese food. cook for him and let him curl up and rest his head on your shoulder afterward and he’ll be tempted to marry you on the spot

loud noises overwhelm naib extremely easily. crowds also make him edgy and anxious. when naib’s panicky, he gets annoyed and will probably snap at you- he would do best with a relatively calm s/o who’s able to keep their head in stressful situations. 

if you’re looking for ways to calm him down, don’t go to overwhelming physical affection right off the bat. someone trying to wrap their arms around him will be seen as a threat to naib’s safety and would only trigger his ptsd even more. instead, grab one of his hands and try to help him regulate his breathing. remind him that he’s safe with you, that there’s nothing to worry about. when naib needs physical comfort, he’ll seek you out. this tactic goes for calming him down after nightmares, too.

the most comforting position for naib is allowing him to sit on your lap and bury his head in your chest- he’s caught between the urge to hide from everything and the urge to protect you. like this, he’s got a solid rock of refuge and it feels like he’s shielding you from any perceived danger. 

undo his strict ponytail and massage naib’s scalp and he’ll be passed out in a heartbeat, snoring softly, his grip on your clothes tight as ever. 

on naib’s bad days, he’s practically glued to your hip. he’s terrified something horrible’s going to happen to you- like the things that happened to his fellow soldiers or even worse, the things he’s done and (seen done) to other people during his time as a hired mercenary. it’s scary, who can blame him? 

wouldn’t mind too much if his partner was into pda, but would feel uncomfortable reciprocating the vast majority of it. naib’s still trying to unlearn the “vulnerability is bad” mindset. he’s been surrounded by that idea his entire adult life, so give him time. this has been touched on before, but hand-holding makes naib soft!! whether you’re enjoying a mellow walk through the manor gardens or lingering in the lobby post-match, one of naib’s calloused hands will find a way to intertwine with yours. 

making naib blush is difficult. very few things can force their way into the chinks in his stoic armor, but soft kisses pressed to his cheek are guaranteed to send an intense flush to his face

if you’re too shy or uncomfortable with pda, you can bet naib’s doing everything he can to fluster you in a safer setting. you’re doing dishes? surprise smooch! indulging in some much-needed downtime? smooch! if naib’s feeling cocky and the time is right, he’ll land his lips somewhere on your face right after you’ve finished a calibration during a match

not too huge on nicknames!! your name is satisfying to say, and naib doesn’t think anything he could call you would fit any better. if you hear him mumble a sleepy “sweetheart” in the middle of a cuddle session while he tries to pull you closer, no you didn’t

naib’s idea of a perfect day ends in a steamy shower or relaxing bath with his s/o. nothing spicy, just soft moments with his love. once y’all are dried and done, throw on your pajamas or one of naib’s shirts (if you’re small enough- mans is 5’6”) and crawl into bed. naib tends to curl in on himself (think fetal position) if you aren’t there- a lot of times he ends up unintentionally becoming the little spoon. 

when naib wants to hold you close, his arms will snake around your waist and he’ll invite you to lay your head on his chest or burrow your face in his neck. when you wake up, it’ll most likely be to naib pestering you in the most loving way possible- ever the early riser, this one. 

nsfw

naib can’t really be pinned down to any specific top or bottom role (no pun intended). during the beginning of your intimate relationship with him, naib leans towards taking a dominant role. it’s indescribably difficult for naib to relinquish control over a non-intimate situation, so you can imagine leaning back and letting go would be even harder. 

gets incredibly handsy when he’s horny. won’t hesitate to seek you out, either. naib doesn’t see the point of masturbation if he has a partner, but he respects your boundaries if you’re not in the mood. 

going back to the surprise kissing bit earlier, when naib wants to let you know he wants to fuck, he’ll pin you up against the closest surface or loop his arms lazily around your shoulders (if you’re short enough) and smash his lips into yours a little rougher than usual- nibbling on your bottom lip right before pulling away. 

has a bit of a fixation on oral. favors receiving over giving slightly, but is still addicted to the way you taste. for masc readers, it’s literally impossible to gag him. to be entirely honest, you could facefuck him with very little resistance. naib wouldn’t hesitate to use you and he expects you to treat him the same way.

 tug on the sheets ever so slightly while he’s sucking your cock and naib will drag your hand to the top of his head, reminding you to pull his hair.

for fem readers, he’ll slowly spread apart your sopping pussy and the corner of his mouth will lift up in a pleased smirk, his rough hands buried in the plush of your thighs. if you attempt to rut your hips against him, naib’ll put an end to that right quick, pinning your hips to the bed, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. 

no matter what, naib’s covering every inch of your bottom half he can reach in hickeys and bruises, occasionally leaning back to admire his handiwork, leaving poor you all needy and aching, whimpering pitifully. 

he’ll look up at you underneath his dark brown eyelashes when you cum, feeling up your sides and pulling your hips closer to his face. the whines his actions pull from your throat will never cease to satisfy him. 

when naib has pleasured you to your mutual satisfaction, he’ll sit up and wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, intentionally smearing your fluids across his face, grinning hungrily as he stares down at you.

now, when you’re sucking naib off, things can get intense pretty damn fast. one moment you’re gently stroking his cock (decently sized too, a good 6-7 inches, average girth), and the next he’s got you by the hair, ramming his dick in your mouth. might accidentally cage you in with his thicc thighs- he’s lost in the feeling of your pretty lips around him, what can he say? gently tap him on the leg and he’ll loosen up a little bit. 

groans loud. louder than he does when he’s actually having sex (at least when he’s topping). the noises he makes are nothing short of animalistic; low growls and heavy moans, straight from his chest. you might have to stop him and remind him to relax. there’s much more to come (no pun intended), and it wouldn’t to well to have naib tire himself out now. his breath will hitch in his chest when you suddenly pull back, but he’ll give you a shaky nod when you tell him to calm down. 

really makes a show of undressing, unless he’s been super pent up lately or something happened to pull out jealous naib. naib isn’t as buff as one might expect; he’s more of the lean type, his strength concentrated in his shoulders and core muscles.

naib’s torso is littered with various scars, some deeper and more noticeable than others. he doesn’t like to admit it, but they’re definitely an insecurity of his. run your fingers over them, or press your lips to the most obvious one, and naib’s heart aches (in a good way, of course). it feels so tender, so soft, so warm to be accepted and wholly loved, regardless of any self-labeled flaws and mistakes. but, mr subedar needs more. 

so he stuffs himself inside of you, letting out a breathy groan at the sudden contact and throwing his head back in delight. when he’s sure that movement wouldn’t cause you too much discomfort, he’ll begin to sloppily thrust himself back and forth, panting heavily. he’s breathing too hard to let out a coherent sentence, egged on by your moans as he angles himself as deeply inside of you as possible. 

depending on how long foreplay lasted, naib can go anywhere from 2-4 rounds. he’s already quite sloppy and forceful, so you can imagine how he gets when he’s tired- sweat beads on his forehead and his chest heaves with every breath, each of his desperate thrusts deep enough to make you see stars. 

naib views cumming inside of you as more intimate, but if you’re uncomfortable with that, he’ll pull out and empty himself onto your stomach. if you have a uterus, he’ll do his best to pull out anyways- considering your current setting, neither of you can really afford a pregnancy scare. 

as mentioned above, naib is more of a top-leaning switch. he defaults to domming because it puts him in control, so you’d have to have a strong relationship with him already. 

if you want naib to sub, you’d have to initiate sex. naib values people who are outright with their intentions, so hold true to that. settle yourself on his lap, arms linked lazily around his shoulders, and press a few soft kisses to the side of naib’s neck. this is the point where he’ll tense up and either gently tell you he isn’t in the mood, or tug you closer. 

naib doesn’t mind where you take him, as long as it’s in a private space. probably has a thing for being fucked on furniture anyway. oral (for both parties) is fine in semi-public spaces- the risk gets naib off more than he’d like to admit- but penetration is reserved for you to witness, and you alone. 

pay special attention to the sensitive spots on naib’s neck and he’ll turn into a whining mess under your touch. grind down on his lap as you gently undo his low ponytail- grab a fistful of his soft hair near the nape of his neck and watch him turn to mush.

in any situation (domming or subbing) naib’s particular to the missionary position. it gives him a perfect view of his s/o at all times.

prep him thoroughly if you want to fuck him in the ass or peg him. he has very limited experience with being penetrated, so no matter how many times naib roughly groans for you to “hurry up and fuck him already”, make sure he’s lubed up and ready to go.

gasps so loud?? when you push your cock or a strap-on inside of him, his entire body goes rigid for a second, and his eyes roll back in his head. it’s delightful. let him shift around for a moment- he’s still getting used to the hot, full feeling that’s overwhelming his senses. naib will grunt out when he’s ready for you to move.

 naib tries to give you what he’d want from a partner; hard, sloppy thrusts with no particular rhythm that leave you aching for more. in barely any time at all, naib is squirming underneath you, choking out requests for “more” and “harder” between half-baked curses that die on his lips. when he cums for the last time, you can see all of the tension leave his shoulders and his final yelp of ecstasy fades into a content sigh.

as far as aftercare goes, naib prefers showering with you over taking a bath. it’s quicker and more convenient, and at this point, naib is puckered out. he just wants to crawl into bed with his s/o. 

falls asleep real quick! it’s lights out as soon as naib’s head hits the pillow and he’s sure you’re in his arms or vice versa. 

gosh i love myself one (1) mercenary 

[robininthelabyrinth]

anything with jin zixuan marrying into the jiang sect, instead of jiang yanli marrying out?

ao3

It wasn’t that Jin Zixuan didn’t love his mother – he did, he truly did. He loved her, he supported her, he stood by her side in every argument. He would do anything within his power to help her get everything that she wanted.

It was only that he took a very reasonable look at the circumstances and realized he couldn’t. He couldn’t get her the one thing she’d always counted for.

He couldn’t win the right of succession to be Sect Leader Jin.

Maybe if his mother had managed to stop his father from bringing home all his bastards – there were nineteen of them, all together, and those were just the ones that were willing to admit it so who even knew – he might’ve had a better chance, given that he was after all the sole legitimate son. But legitimacy only took you so far: he was neither the oldest of the children, nor the most capable, nor the most cunning. He wasn’t even the best connected, despite his maternal family’s support; that honor went to another one of his siblings, born to an especially well-connected family through unspecified circumstances that might or might not involve rape but which sufficient money had plastered over.

The only thing Jin Zixuan had going for him was his legitimacy, but his father had long ago taught him - however inadvertently - that there wasn’t anything magical about a wedding ceremony that made him better suited to the role of sect leader.

What’s more, in his heart of hearts, Jin Zixuan didn’t even want it.

He wasn’t – he didn’t really like fighting. Or politics, or scheming, or any of it. It just wasn’t his personality. He didn’t like games of influence, he didn’t like backstabbing people that trusted him, he didn’t like gossiping and slandering and not being able to believe in people’s good faith and any of that, and no matter how much his mom pushed him, he didn’t think he’d ever like it. 

But that was what Lanling Jin did, what Jilin Tower was like, and if he wanted to take up the Sect Leader’s seat and reside in the Fragrant Palace, he had to get over himself and accept that that’s what the rest of his life would be like.

Forever.

Until someone murdered him and took his place, anyway. It almost felt inevitable, sometimes. 

Or, because he really truly didn’t want the job, because he really truly didn’t want to die, he could try to think of something else. Some way out.

For example, he could, and did, go to Jin Ziyao and ask him for help.

Jin Ziyao stared at him, eyes narrow and calculating as they so rarely were – he was very good at keeping a bland polite smile on his face, the best at it of all the people Jin Zixuan had ever met, and he’d met a lot. 

“That’s an interesting thing to say, brother,” he said, gently eliding as always the fact that they were the same age, born on the same day to different mothers. “Very interesting indeed. I must ask, though - why are you saying it to me?”

“Because you’d be the best at the job,” Jin Zixuan said honestly. He really thought so: Jin Ziyao was smart and clever, cunning enough to wear a kind face and tricky enough to actually pull off the impression of actually being kind, since people were more willing to forgive kind people, but also ambitious and ruthless enough to survive and maybe even thrive in the political world the way Jin Zixuan wasn’t. “And because you’re smart enough to come up with a way for me to get out of this without dying, if you wanted to.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Why would I want to?”

And that was the rub, wasn’t it? Jin Zixuan was the legitimate son, the rightful heir, and his father, their father, was just as likely to name Jin Zixuan as the next sect leader no matter how unfit for the role he was on nothing more than that basis as he was to name anyone else with a much stronger claim. 

It was in everyone else’s best interest to kill him, if they were ambitious.

Maybe not his sisters. They wouldn’t inherit no matter what happened to him.

(Sometimes Jin Zixuan wished he was lucky enough to be born a nobody, little Jin Ziyu, who just wanted to play with make-up and avoid all contact with his maternal Mo family. Nobody cared about Jin Ziyu, and everyone liked it that way.)

“You know my position,” Jin Zixuan explained. He didn’t need to say it out loud; he was bitterly aware that it was basically his only personality trait: legitimate heir of Jin Guangshan, the rich boy everyone thought would be the next sect leader unless someone else got in the way. “My support could be worth something to you.”

“Especially if it’s sincere,” Jin Ziyao murmured, looking thoughtful, contemplative. It wasn’t an outright no, anyway, or at least not yet. “And you would be sincere, wouldn’t you?”

“There’s a reason I said that I’m not fit for the role,” Jin Zixuan replied, his voice dry to hide the fact that his heart was in his throat. Jin Ziyao was the one most likely to succeed in finding a way to get him out of this mess, but he was also the most likely to figure out a way to kill him without being blamed for it, too.  There was a reason he’d come to him, but that reason was the danger - who was to say that Jin Ziyao wouldn’t decide it’d be safer to kill him, and to use this to accomplish it? He could be signing his own death warrant. “And even if you’re smart, competent, good at managing things, well-connected, and well-liked, you can still use my help.”

Jin Ziyao had only a single fault: his mother had been a prostitute. People still judged him for that, something which made no sense to Jin Zixuan whatsoever – it wasn’t Jin Ziyao’s fault what his mother did before he was born – but it meant he lacked legitimacy even more than the others. 

Having the legitimate son backing his claim would be a strong argument in favor of overlooking that.

“You know your mother won’t like it,” Jin Ziyao said. Testing, probing; he hadn’t agreed yet.

“I know,” Jin Zixuan said simply. “But I hope that she’d like me being dead less.”

He wasn’t actually sure about that. His mother loved him, yes, but he had never entirely determined if she loved him for himself or as an extension of herself – a symbol of what she would be fighting towards. A sign that her struggles with her husband had a purpose, that all her humiliation would one day be worth it.

That one day, when he was sect leader, she would become the true power in Lanling through him. 

(Jin Zixuan didn’t know what she imagined would happen to all his illegitimate brothers and sisters in that situation, and he didn’t want to; it put a sick feeling in his gut to think about it – which he supposed meant he did know, after all, what she would want, but was instead choosing to ignore it.)

Jin Ziyao studied him for a long moment, presumably trying to analyze his sincerity and how firm he was on the idea. 

Jin Zixuan didn’t rush him, knowing it was a gamble on his side as well: it would be worse for him to help Jin Zixuan out of the line of succession only for Jin Zixuan to change his mind down the road. It would make him look bad, make him a target for the others, and the backstabbing nature of Lanling politics meant that luring someone in with a request for aid was exactly the sort of trap someone might lay out.

Sometimes, Jin Zixuan was really, really tired of Lanling.

Maybe something of that showed on his face, because just when he was starting to lose hope, Jin Ziyao abruptly nodded – almost to himself – and said, “All right. How about your marriage?”

“What about my marriage?” Jin Zixuan asked, puzzled. 

He’d been engaged to his mother’s best friend’s daughter since before he was born, and amazingly enough the engagement had held despite everything – probably because they had barely met, to be perfectly honest. And also the fact that being surrounded by brothers that hid daggers in their smiles gave Jin Zixuan enough experience to realize that he was being deliberately incited when his so-called friends started telling him that he deserved better than a girl most often described simply as being nice.

After all, he’d already started doubting by that time that he even deserved the accident of his legitimate birth, so forget deserving any girl.

Also, being nice sounded…rather nice, actually. Certainly a relief, assuming she was actually nice rather than just pretending to be the way so many of his sisters were.

(None of them liked her, which suggested she might be.)

“You should get to know your intended better,” Jin Ziyao said. “Visit her more often.”

Jin Zixuan really wasn’t seeing the connection between that and his request for assistance, and Jin Ziyao’s gaze softened a little bit, though Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure if it was with sympathy or merely pity.

“It’ll make it easier for you,” he clarified. “For when you marry in.”

Marry in?

Marry in. The Jiang sect was a Great Sect, with enough power and influence to make unreasonable demands – and his father desperately wanted the alliance with them. If they could be convinced to demand that he marry in rather than having Jiang Yanli marry out, pointing to their smaller numbers or the tragedies that had befallen their sect…

Jiang Cheng would like having his sister around. He was also notoriously standoffish around women, and had viciously rejected any effort to be matched with one of the illegitimate Jin girls; it might even be possible to suggest to his father that allowing Jin Zixuan to marry in would mean that there was a chance that Jiang Cheng would be willing to leave his sect to a nephew surnamed Jiang, winning the Jin sect both an alliance and inheritance all at once.

Best of all, it had to be him. The Jiang sect had only agreed to the engagement because of Madame Yu’s friendship with his mother, not for any political reason; if his father tried to substitute him with someone else, they might break it entirely…

And someone who married out couldn’t be the heir.

“You’re a genius,” Jin Zixuan told his brother, who smiled crookedly in acknowledgement. “What should I do? Do I just – go over there? Send a letter? I can’t write letters…”

“Let me think about it,” Jin Ziyao said. “I’m sure I can come up with something more subtle than you.”

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

Hey Possum, Remember this fic?

I was wondering if you could write a fic where that Sammy, Wally, Norman and Susie find a way to Hell's studio and meet their alternate counterparts

Bonus points if: Susie scares Snowflake again causing the small toon to run to his paps, Both Sammys compare notes, both Wallys talk about their families, and Bendy pranking the two sammys

This took longer than expected, but at least they're getting along! ...Maybe.

----------------------------

After returning home, the timid imp had promised himself that he'd never ever go into other dimensions again. While nothing was outright scary or dangerous (aside from the chainsaw wielding Music Director, but even he didn't directly threaten him), he just felt like there was something deeply wrong about that place... The weird smells, the way everyone looked so worn and beaten down, the oppressing air of the uncanny valley- Part of him even wished that there WAS a monster in that place, he wished that... that there was some big bad scary villain that would cackle menacingly and and evilly twirl his mustache after tying someone to railroad tracks and cause lightning and thunder and then get defeated by some hero and everyone could live happily ever after.

That way, there wouldn't be that lingering uneasy feeling of dread in there, right? Maybe if there was a clear threat that could be taken down and dealt with, the tension would be gone and that timeline would be hopefully just another timeline like home, but with different flavors.

Part of him felt bad about being scared of the other Studio, after all, those other workers seemed interesting, even if they did smell funny..

Snowflake did a double take as he saw her.

"I'm so happy to hear that everything's going great here! ..To be honest, part of me was a little worried that it was only as good as it seemed on the surface..."

"Well I can't really blame you for worrying, and sorry to hear about losing the role, your Joey sounds like... like an absolute jerk!"

"It's putting it lightly, but yes." the shorter woman nodded.

Right there, talking with his own timeline's Susie was a petite woman with fiery red hair tied in a braid resting on her shoulder, she had blue eyes but one of them was dull and lazy. She had tannish peach skin peppered with freckles. She looked so different, and yet, and most importantly, her voice matched up with HIS timeline's Susie Campbell perfectly.

He felt a large pit in his stomach as he saw her. Sure, she was as sweet and kind as the Susie he knew, she had the same slightly southern twain to her voice, but there was just something that felt deeply wrong about the timeline she came from..

Part of him felt like it was a *good* thing that magic wasn't the norm in that studio, he felt like if it was, things would go from bad to worse.

"Hi there, kiddo! Remember me?" the woman from another dimension waved him over and asked him as innocently as if they had met in a non-supernatural but still odd way.

"Y-yes, although I wasn't expecting to see you here... Did something happen in your place?!"

"No, at least nothing bad did. The boys and I were just curious."

"B-but how did you all get here?! There's no-" he put his hands over his mouth, remembering Joey's warning about the timeline butterfly effect "Er, w-we came from such a far away place! And we didn't tell you where we're from! And- and-"

"..Snowflake..?"

Were they some kind of supernatural stalkers?! Was this why he was so nervous about the people in that timeline?! Did they know he was coming in the first place?! They had either said or implied that their Joey was bad, but were the rest of them bad too...? He looked at her like a deer in the headlights, he SWORE that he never even told any of them his name!

While it was a small thing, it was what broke the camel's back and the imp zoomed off in search of his father, who he really hoped would convince him that this was just a weird dream... ------

"-So I kid ya not, da first thing dat little babyfaced new-hire me did the second I walked into that room was clear my throat, gettin' all of their attention and say 'Hey, you guys look like you've killed before and wont hesitate ta kill again! Wanna kill my parents?' I didn't get an answer, just, silence aside from Jack hitting one of the pool balls outta reflex. While I don't think anyone decided to adopt me right then an' there, I think that's the key moment where I went from 'The annoyin' janitor' to 'Da kid we need to check in on every now an' again'."

"Hold on, I'm still wrappin' my head around ya having your first kid in your teens, I'm an adult, I've only got one kid an' I need all the help I can get with Snowflake!"

"Well, I think part of it is dat Vincent is a human kid an' Snowflake's a cahtoon demon who brings in alotta strays and also has a supahnateral force of chaos and mischief actin' like a mama bear ta him. Yeah he sounds like a good kid, but he's also the type of kid who needs a lotta hands on deck to properly raise."

"Ya got me there." the other Wally adjusted his hat.

"DAAAAAAAAAAD!" The little toon zipped out of nowhere and clung to the janitor's back and neck, unintentionally tackling him in the process.

"Speak of the lil' devil..." The janitor pat his son's back. "What happened, Snowflake?"

"T-there w-w-was- there was-" the imp stuttered while he did a double take, realizing that there were two of 'his dad' even if one of them looked very different...

"Do ya think he saw Susie's eye fall out?" his other dimensional double whispered to him.

"Gosh I hope not, it would probably scar him..."

"M-ms. Susie's eye fell out?!"

"N-no! I mean, *hopefully* it didn't but sometimes glass eyes can-"

The janitor was cut off by the sound of the imp screaming bloody murder.

------

Sammy didn't like the new 'guests' that showed up in the music department. Er- rather didn't like the other Sammy as well as the fact that the four of them had spontaneously appeared in his personal break room. (the 'Sammy sanctuary' as Bendy humorously called it.)

The other Susie was friendly and chipper, the woman's 'lazy eye' was a little off putting for some, but he didn't mind. He had mixed feelings about the other Wally as he did the notion of a timeline where he and Wally were brothers. The other Norman was... tolerable. He didn't like the man's sense of humor, and his stories creeped him out, but at least he was smart enough to know when to quit.

He couldn't blame the others for leaving but he wished they didn't leave him with him.

THIS guy? He was almost convinced that if he took his eyes away from him for too long, he'd either kill someone or ...something else... And it didn't help that he showed up half naked and with a goddamned chainsaw.

Aside from the obvious signs that there was something deeply wrong about that guy, there were other things about this 'Sammy' that unnerved him; the redness in the whites of his eyes, the man's twitchy movements, an all too familiar bitter smell mixed in the man's breath that wasn't tobacco...

He shook his head, he didn't want to overthink this other Sammy and what was going on with him, he just wanted 'babysitting' to be over and done with as soon as possible. He didn't want this man chasing down the other musicians, he didn't want him causing trouble with his instruments, and the last thing he wanted was to call the cops over him-

"Hey! Don't touch that!" the Musician barked at his double as he took the notes out of his hands. "They're not finished, and I don't need you messing with them-"

"The character that theme is for is Ruby, right?"

"...Yes...?"

The other musician fished some crumpled up, half done sheets of music out of the trash. "What seems to be the issue between all of these drafts and your current one is that they're all too *orderly* there's chaos in Rube Goldberg machines. Organized chaos, yes, but it's still very chaotic. And it's noisy chaos too."

"Uh huh, and how do you suggest I add 'more chaos' into this?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Well-timed sound effects and improvised instruments over instrument instruments in some places. Sometimes, an empty can of soup and a wooden stick gives off the sound you need over a drum set." the man shrugged. "Here, let me show you an example..."

He took an empty can of bacon soup, a drumstick, the chainsaw, and a violin. With the violin, he followed the notes of his double's piece, he rev'd the chainsaw and used its low, mechanical purr as a base, and he rhythmically tapped the drumstick against the empty can.

The other Sammy used an empty tape to record the song, in spite of his feelings about his double, he couldn't deny that at least he knew what he was doing...

*Click*

"So what does he do to keep you here?"

"..Joey?"

"Yes, I might.. ...have issues, but I'm not blind or deaf. I could hear you muttering under your breath about 'crazy things happening like this every week', I saw the bucket of ink placed over your office door, and I'm very used to the phrase 'Goddamnit Joey, not again', but I wasn't expecting to hear it right after coming here."

"...Wanna talk with it over drinks in the breakroom?"

"You can drink, I'll just have coke."

As they got there, the neater and more put together Sammy poured the bottle of whiskey into a glass and handed his double a can of cola. The shirtless one added a fine, white powder to his own drink which he mixed in while his double wasn't looking.

"I work here mostly out of spite."

"...Spite? That's it?"

"Most of it." he sipped on his glass. "There's also some of the few coworkers here that I like and don't think I'll see if I don't work here and I'm partly convinced that the Ink will throw a tantrum if I leave for good."

"The ink's alive?"

"We have living toons here and the ink is magic, it wouldn't surprise me if it was alive too, especially with how it acts sometimes..." he shook his head. "So what about you? Why do you stay in your studio?"

"I have nowhere else to go."

"Nowhere?"

"At first I thought that one of the only good things about Joey was that it didn't matter who or what you were to him as long as you were talented..." The man sighed as he stared at his drink. "At first, I thought it was a good thing that he went out of his way to hire people who most found undesirable.. But as it turned out, that was his plan. Nobody cares if people like me wind up dead or missing. Police in the area can't be half assed to keep anyone but their own kind safe, they're not going to bother." he spat bitterly "I'm sure that shitheel bastard only fired me and re hired me only to show me that it doesn't matter if I run, I can never go back home, he's burned all my bridges that I didn't burn first. The studio is my home now. And I'm sure it'll be my grave too."

"You know... It doesn't have to be."

The brown haired man let out a loud, broken sounding laugh at the black haired man's suggestion.

"...'It doesn't have to be', god, you're so fucking optimistic it's hilarious!"

Sammy gave his double a questioning look..

"What? And don't suggest I live here, trust me, you really don't want me to do that.."

"But weren't you the one who got everyone here in the first place?"

"Huh..?"

"It obviously wasn't your Joey, otherwise, he would've made the toons by now and judging by what you've told me about him, he would've used it for other terrible things too. It couldn't be your Norman because according to him and this timeline's Norman 'He knows better than to mess with this damn' trash'." The neater Sammy listed off on his fingers. "If any Wally knew magic, I'm sure he'd use it whenever he could, especially in a place where everyone's used to it. That leaves you and your Susie and I could be wrong, but I think that you people wound up in my place because you were the one doing the spell. And don't take this the wrong way, but you are definitely unhinged enough to take on magic."

Sammy stayed silent and stared at his own hands. "I... I don't-"

The shirtless man was cut off by a bucket of ink landing on them both.

"Dammit Bendy!" Sammy cursed as he wiped the ink out of his eyes. "Can't you see this is *not* the time?!"

"Oops, didn't know we had a guest.." the imp nervously chuckled. "You're from the same place as other-Norman, right?"

"Ti ast fach..." The other Sammy grumbled under his breath as he got up.

"uh... gesundheit?"

"Bendy, if I were you, I would run." Sammy suggested as he watched his double reach for the now empty bucket.

"A-aren't you gonna tell him to calm down?!"

"Nope, good luck."

The music director of this timeline exited the room, leaving his double and Bendy to their own devices.

Both Normans rolled their eyes (or in his double's case, his eye) when they saw Bendy running for dear life away from the bucket-wielding Music Director who was screaming profanities.

"...So I take it there's never a dull moment in your timeline either?"

"Nope, in fact I'm surprised the this one's Sammy didn't join 'im..."